Dream: The One Room School Desk
Last night’s dream:
The One Room School Desk
I’m talking with Deborah about a piece of furniture of mine that she still has; she tells me that she hopes it will be OK that she had it worked on – it was just a tiny bit too big, and they were able to take just a fraction of an inch off. I’m concerned when she says this, because it’s an old piece with a lot of sentimental value, and I don’t want to see it ruined. I go with her to her house, carrying a weird thing that looks like a cross between a wicker bread basket and a sarcophagus – it’s roundly coffin-shaped, but very open, with wicker bars running from the base to the top rim. It has no lid. I think it belongs to her, and I’m bringing it back to her. We go by way of walking across a hammock-like web that’s strung from my house’s eaves to hers – it’s white cotton, like a Southern-style backyard lounging hammock. When I get to her deck, I leap over a long pile of debris that’s set up like a dam across the front of the deck. I think she just stepped over it. I jumped solid with both feet, so that I made a resounding THUMP when I hit the other side. It seemed funny to me at the time.
We go inside, and she shows me the desk – I explain that it was a desk from the one-room school where my Grandmother once taught. I pick it up (now seemingly in miniature) and look at it – there are several wooden members that have been replaced with plywood. There are runes written along the edges of the plywood. It bothers me a lot – partly because it seems like it was ridiculous to entirely rebuild the piece just to take off part of an inch (apparently it wasn’t made much smaller by the rebuilding work) and partly because it damaged the historical value of the piece to take out so much original wood. It has several sloping surfaces, and doesn’t look much like a desk – I can’t think of a piece of furniture that looks like it, except possibly a printing press – several flat surfaces, at sloping angles, connected by wooden uprights. I don’t remember reading any message in the runes along the edges of the wood, only that they were there.
I have no clue that it means, but you have the most interesting dreams.
I only wish I could remember mine.
Re: dream interpretation
Lobo, if you’re ever interested in learning to remember your dreams and work with them, I’ve got an entire shelf of books on the subject… several of them start out at the “I hardly ever remember any dreams at all” point, and help you build up to the point where you’re remembering lots. I can frequently remember as many as 4 distinct periods of dreaming each night; we all dream several times a night during regular sleep (even when “elevated”) and it’s just a matter of teaching yourself how to access that memory.
I used to remember my dreams
I used to have the same nightmare nearly every night when I was younger. I was chased by a man with glowing red eyes and it scared the ba-geezus out of me. My pops told me to stand up to it, years later, I finally did and it went away.
About the only recurring dream I have (or dream that I remember for that part) is waking to see my step-daughter standing next to my bed with a box of cereal saying, “cheerios?”. But that is just the recollection of a dear memory, I think.
I can’t remember the last time I had a good dream, or indifferent dream.
Re: I used to remember my dreams
Do you find that you wake naturally at the end of your sleep cycle? Or does the alarm have to drag you awake? If you wake fairly naturally but still have the alarm, then it might help to set the alarm for about 20 minutes early, just one or two nights… don’t do this repeatedly, or your body will adjust to the new time, and you will no longer catch yourself dreaming.
Most people when wakened during a REM period will recall a dream in progress; wakened within 30 seconds of the ending of a REM period, something like 90 percent recall a just-finished dream. Within 5 minutes the recall drops to about 50%, and after 10 minutes it’s down to about 20%. We naturally wake immediately after each REM period, but most people don’t even become aware of being awake, they just shift position if necessary, and continue sleeping.
I find dreams to be a useful key to self-understanding; they help me to get in touch with things that I know unconsciously, but not consciously, and they help me to integrate that knowledge into my real life. I haven’t gotten to the point of dream control, but I’ve gotten to the point where I can incubate dreams, or request particular themes. Sometimes it’s like requesting from a busy DJ, though – if he’s got too much stuff he has to play on the list (the pressing things that your subconscious mind wants to process), your request gets lost.
For one, I do not have a regular sleep, nor have I ever. I operate on a 28-hour clock I think. Sometimes I don’t sleep, sometimes I get 4 hours of sleep and sometimes I get 12 hours of sleep. (with or without the influences of alcohol or THC)
I find dreams to be very useful, since it seems they help we work on my ONE bottled up frustration. I miss having a child. I miss my step-daughter. I practically raised her from 14-months to 5 years. Her mother, bless her heart, had no clue on what it takes to be a mother. Nobody likes to hear me belly-ache about that politically incorrect thought, so I bottle up that emotion.
On the otherhand, I let all my other frustrations out whenever I get them. I do not *try* to channel those emotions at people, but I learned to get that stuff off my chest as quickly as possible.