May 11, 2014
We all went to bed in our respective time zones intending to meet at the dream address 12 Norwich Street. In a dream she had on Dec. 6, 2013, Maria found herself standing outside a house at night waiting for someone. When she saw a car approaching, she waved it down, and for some reason found herself yelling, “12 Norwich Street!” If the driver was the person she was waiting for, who she somehow knew would be looking for this address, he would realize they had found the place. Less than a month later, Maria virtually met Sean and recognized him as the man who stopped the car and joined her in the dream, where they had come together for a purpose involving altered states and exploration. Recently it occurred to her that she might have received a very obvious clue as to where we could all try to meet in the dream space. We discussed it and agreed that the address 12 Norwich Street might be a way to specifically focus and unify our intent. This was the first night we tried to meet there.
I’m conscious of walking down a dark hallway in a house talking to Tilly, who has just surprisingly called me, because we’ve never spoken on the phone before. She is communicating with great emotion, criticizing herself for not being able to do something crucially important. The image I receive is of a dark back room and a black box akin to a power supply and a switch she symbolically needs to flip, but some part of her is reluctant or not strong enough. Then she says, “And you’re that switch for me” which makes me worry she’s going to tell me we can’t be friends anymore, that it’s just too much for her to deal with. Thankfully, she doesn’t say this but instead tells me about the “black boots”. I see them before me in a vision, a pair of slender almost knee-high black boots she is supposed to slip into but she just can’t bring herself to do it. I go stand close to a window, the bottom of which is flush to the floor, through which I perceive a soft white light in which these boots are framed as though floating or reflected there. All I can think to do is quote lyrics from a song by Nancy Sinatra, “These boots are made for walking…” I know I don’t need to go on because by her response (that what I said is fitting/reasonable) I know she’s familiar with the refrain, “These boots are made for walking and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these boots are going to walk all over you.”
As we continue talking, I gravitate over to another window on this upper landing. The walls, the floor, are all soft white and cream colors. I sit down in front of this window and begin describing to Tilly where I am, “I’m high up on a top floor of a large house…” It’s night outside but I can clearly see a white sidewalk below to my right, along which a large slender black dog is heading in my direction. Then I say, speaking slowly as I grasp this truth myself, “You realize this conversation is happening in a dream…” And as I speak, directly before me in the sky I see the full moon, its bright white light softly diffused as it emerges from the darkness. The moon’s appearance and informing Tilly that we’re dreaming is one mysteriously profound experience. After a long magical moment she says something softly. I don’t remember her words, only that she understands, and is filled with a calming reverence. Then suddenly I’m distracted by a frightening sight. “Oh my God,” I cry, “there’s a black dog running straight toward my door and it’s getting bigger and bigger the closer it gets!” I stand up, getting ready to fight. “Do you know what I’m going to do when it gets here?” The animal leaps inside. “I’m going to pet it!” I crouch down and gently insert my hand into its panting mouth for an instant before caressing its long muzzle and lovingly greeting it with the question, “Do you want a treat, sweetie?” It’s not a killer Doberman but a smiling black Lab. Standing, I head toward the kitchen as I tell Tilly, “You don’t understand what a big step this is for me…” I’m getting ready to explain to her that years ago my first lucid dream was caused by my fear of hostile dogs, which inspired me to fly away from them and realize I was dreaming, but I phase out of the dream.
I suddenly become aware that I am dreaming, I take flight—I need to find 12 Norwich street. I fly around like Superman; I’m flying so freaking fast it’s crazy. I feel the street is located in England so I fly there. I find myself land in a mansion. This is the place, I am close. The interior is spacious with white and cream colors. I walk out of the mansion and find myself standing outside a small English house. In front of the house is a small front garden surrounded by a small wall and a small brown wooden gate. On the gate it reads ’12’. I take a quick look around but cannot find the street name, yet I am sure that if I did find it it would read ‘Norwich street’. I take another look at the gate to make sure. Now it says ’13’. I look away and look again ’14’. This always happens when I look at writing in a dream; it always changes after a second look. So I take the first number as correct and walk inside the house.
I try to remember the layout and feel so I can draw it when I wake up. Although now I cannot really remember, it was smallish (like an average UK house) with the stairs going up at the center of the house. The dining room was at the back of the house which led to the garden. I took a quick look around the dining room—it linked up to an open style kitchen. Before I could look at anything else a freaking TIGER started running at me from the garden, bashing through the back door and jumping at me. Shit! Since I was in the kitchen area, my arm shot up to look for a knife. I found a small one and stabbed it in it’s side, but it still continued to attack me, so I took the knife and stabbed it beneath its jaw into its brain. It was horrible, I really did not want to hurt this creature but it was attacking me. It stopped and just stood there, injured. “You know you should be dead now, I stabbed you in the brain” I said but it just looked at me. In pain, and still pissed. Stupid dream logic. Then from inside the house a black dog walked in, a Labrador, followed by a fox. I really didn’t have time for this. I put my hands in front of me, trying to conjure a surge of power within them, and then shot them forward. The desired effect was to make the dog disappear—it did not work, it did not do anything. Let’s try this again. I lifted the dog up off of the ground using telekinesis, again with my hands out in front of me, and then slammed it onto the ground, but when it hit the ground it just disappeared. Excellent, my powers are improving! I do the same to the fox. I don’t recall what happened to the tiger after this.
Okay, now to find Maria and Flow of my Soul. I shout both of their names a few times, but I don’t feel Flow of my Soul for some reason. I do feel Maria may be here, and that focusing on one person would give me better results. So I start to walk around the house calling out for Maria, “MARIA, MARIA!” The house is still small, but rooms pop up from nowhere, making it seem like there are several dining rooms and living rooms, all looking different. It’s not that the house is big, it’s more that the house is changing as I walk through it. I come into a room where a few people are standing. It seems the mother and father (an elderly couple) are just leaving after a visit. I approach one woman who is standing. She has short dark hair. “Maria?” I ask her. She looks at me with a confused expression on her face. “Are you Maria?” I ask her. She still still looks confused. I use my supersonic scream to knock some sense into her and to help draw Maria out. “MMAAARRRIIIAAA!” I take her and shake her. She focuses on me now and replies in a far away voice, “I don’t know, maybe.” I think, This is useless.
I continue on through the house shouting Maria’s name and finally reach a new sitting room (I feel it is close to where I started when fighting the tiger, like I’ve come full circle). I see a woman sitting down on a chair without arms. She has long dark hair. “Maria, is that you?” I ask her. The woman looks at me. She seems preoccupied with something. “Yes, I’m Maria,” she tells me. I appear to have walked in on something, like Maria is in the middle of something. If I had to guess, I would say I was talking to her through her dream. The next thing I know we’re having a conversation, I have no idea what about, or how we got into it but it seemed natural at the time. The conversation seems to have been about reflections. This is what I remember:
“Can you help this person for me?” I ask Maria. She has a piece of paper with people’s names written on it. The people she cannot help are the names written on this paper. The name of the person I ask her to help is one of the names written on the paper. “I told you I can’t help this person,” she replies. She is still preoccupied though, staring off into the middle distance. I have a feeling she is focusing on Tilly. I don’t know who this person is I asked Maria to help. I then woke up.
There seems to be a hole in the dream there, like I have no idea how Maria and I ended up talking about reflections and people we can help. It would have been much more natural of me to ask her if she knew we were dreaming etc, but I seemed to have been pulled INTO this conversation. Seems like my ‘feelings’ in the dream were correct about encountering Maria and that she was somehow preoccupied with Tilly. Somehow I knew I was accessing part of Maria but not all of her.
I love the fact that because Maria is connected to Tilly I can connect to Tilly through her. Amazing stuff!
I think 12 Norwich street should be our main base of operations from now on. I think it would work out great, and we can all personalise it – possibly even choose a room for each of us to make it easier to find one another.
I am in a house on a street I do not recognise. I know both what it looks like inside and out. It is late evening time, dark outside, and the moon is as it was when I was in the pub earlier gazing at it when I went outside. A half moon. It is an average street set up with terraced and semi-detached houses. There is a small wooden gate leading to the front door at the end of the pathway… Inside I am in the lounge area with J. and we are entertaining guests. There are a small handful of people in the room, men and women, but I don’t pay too much attention to them and i can’t think who they are. J. is preparing an herbal drink. He has green leafy herbs in a coffee jug and is using it to strain them (a method my friend S. uses). He is lining up these very pretty shot glasses placed on the mantel of an unlit open fireplace. They are glass with gold rims, antique looking. We are going to serve the herbal drinks to our guests in these glasses. I am in a state. Everything I do seems to be awkward and I feel I am getting in the way.
At one point I lean up against an old oak dresser and fell against one of the drawers and nearly knocked it over. I feel embarrassed, like I can’t get anything right. The space seems to be very much set up for the guests, very much theirs. But they don’t seem to mind me being in a state, or for that matter, being there. Nor does J. He is so patient and relaxed. He seems to love me deeply. At one point I go to the kitchen area, I think to put a kettle on. The kitchen is separated by a dark but roomy hallway. As I enter this hallway, a black dog appears (I think it belonged to one of the female guests). It is black, long and slender but I recognise it as a Labrador. He comes in hastily, and he is soaking wet and covered in pond weed, which he is now dragging through with him into the lounge where the guests still stand chatting quietly between themselves. I imagine he has been in the pond that I know to be in the back garden of this house. I think my dog, Tilly, is here somewhere too, I think she has also been in this pond. But I only see a flash of her.
At one point I am outside in the back garden where the pond is. It is dark and I look at the moon. It was the part of the dream that I remember the least and I am annoyed when writing my dream diary that I cannot remember, as it felt like a deep interlude full of feeling.
I have a pair of ‘not quite knee high’ black hobnailed boots. They are in a bag and have been for a very long time! They are so special to me, I love them. They belonged to my mother in the 1970’s, she got them from Italy. But the insides are worn out, so I have only worn them a couple of times, but they certainly give me that something extra when they are on!! I need to fix them up. It is an uncanny connection to Maria’s metaphor.
By Maria calling me in her dream, I wonder if she ‘called’ me into the dream share. I know the time difference and all, but it could have stimulated a part of my psyche whether it happened before or after. It was so odd that I went to bed and just had that one strong memory of that one non-lucid dream (I’d had a little too much to drink with friends and was void of conscious intention on my very late night!) Perhaps some of my awkward feeling in the dream was due to the fact that when I did end up there, I felt the ‘space was very much theirs’ (yours and Sean’s) but as in my dream, nobody minded me being there at all, on the contrary.
Closing Comments by Maria:
Tilly, who had only dream shared with me before, was not intending to meet with us that night, but she knew of our intent regarding the dream address 12 Norwich Street and was intrigued by it. She walked through a brown gate into the house just like Sean, who did not know until after this dream share that Tilly’s avatar is Pink Tiger. Based on my article Cells & Self: The Biology of Lucid Dreaming, I feel the tiger Sean encountered may have been Tilly’s dreaming mind sensing a strange unknown presence and instinctively attacking the unexpected intruder.
Tilly and I both spent time looking at the moon in what Tilly aptly described as a “deep interlude full of feeling” she cannot remember but that for me was all about communicating with Tilly on a deeply lucid level.
The unifying thread between our three dreams is the large black dog. Each of us saw the same breed of dog, a black Lab, a complete visual synch that ties together the other synchronistic elements. My two contradictory reactions to the appearance of the dog – fear and preparing to fight it followed by love and affection – reflects both Sean and Tilly’s respective attitudes to the dog in their dreams. The question is, why did essentially the same dog enter all our dreams? Labs love to help people. As Tilly expressed it, “My fella was young and fighting fit and on a typical lab mission! A black dog is such good (and sometimes challenging) medicine to work with!” In waking life we all own dogs, and although Sean’s dog resembles the dog we all saw in our dreams, his reaction to it makes it clear he did not recognize it as his dog. A few days before these dreams, Tilly and I briefly talked about the well known spelling enigma that DOG is GOD backward. Dogs play a big part in our lives and we both feel we have been profoundly helped by the unconditional love dogs offer us. It is not such a stretch to seriously consider the possibility this dog was there to help us by linking our dreams to confirm we really are connecting in the dream space. But where did this dog who entered all our dreams come from? Was it sent? If so, by who? Was it indeed a God dog?
Dreams have much in common with reflections, what Sean and I were talking about in his dream, while I in turn saw Tilly’s boots reflected in a window. Dreams reflect our thoughts and feelings, our preconceptions, beliefs, expectations, etc. Often a dream conversation that leaves us with just a vague clue about its subject initiates a waking conversation which brings it into our awareness and enables us to reconstruct it since we already had it. I also realized who the person on my list was, and once I told Sean, it was obvious to him I was right, that this was indeed the person he was asking me to help in the dream. And because of my statement in the dream that I could not help this person, I accepted this is how I truly feel and was relieved of the pressure I had been putting on myself to try and help them.
We all agree that to dream share more lucidly, we need to be aware that much of what we see and experience in dreams are reflections cast not just by our own mind but by the minds of people close to us, especially if we are actively seeking them in the dream space. Perhaps confining ourselves to a dream house might help us by giving our imaginations only a limited amount of forms and possibilities to work with. If we continue to meet at this dream address, we can attempt to “decorate” it with mental-emotional furnishings we each provide and can learn to recognize. We feel there is much potential here and intend to continue trying to meet at 12 Norwich Street and literally make it our dream house.