I was in my 30’s before I learned my particular way of dreaming was not the same for everyone.
I’m a lucid dreamer – meaning, I know when I’m dreaming and I consciously change the form of my dreams, while in them. Not that I’ve escaped the occasional nightmare over the years – if body or room temperature nudges too far north of comfortable, I descend into the awful world of nightmares where I am trapped and helpless until my own yells wake me, or another in the household, who will promptly shake me and say, “Shut It! I’m trying to sleep over here!”
Another oddity is I sometimes dream in serial mode – The first occurrence I can remember was when I was 12. The dreamscape was full of people, places and things. The story rolled out each night and picked up the next night just where it left off. I’ve yet to find someone else who does this, but then, I don’t go around asking a lot of folks about it either…
I also tend to wake up in whatever emotional mood I was in last dream. This is both a boon and a bane. Boon if the dream was pleasant – Bane if not so much.
Apparently, I’m not interested in avoiding negative emotions in my dreamlife, either.
As my spirit descends back into my body in the early hours of waking up – I hazily walk in that world between sleep and wakefulness. If I try to memorize or analyze each moment of the dream, I quickly become fully awake and the dream is lost – so I tend to tread carefully and bring back with me only what I think is needed for the day to come.
For better or worse, my youngest has inherited my dream DNA strand – A lucid dreamer, he follows his own dream life theater and awakes in some of the most peculiar moods sometimes.
Which means on some mornings, when we’ve nothing to hurry up for (like pesky school or work), I get a full plot and story line from him based on the previous night’s performance.
This morning I listened to an adventure packed saga, where he was trying to save his wife from the duplicator clones.
After he had finished, I shared mine:
“A barking lizard.”
Yup – that’s all I chose to carry into waking hours with me. I could remember the rest of the dream somewhat, but the rest was boring, so I stuck to the main item.
(I wish I could find a tactful way to inform him I need not know every, single, shot fired at the duplicator clones – – maybe I’ll have him read this blog later… Our bargain is he does his best not to zone out when I’m sharing an important history lesson and I try to keep my attention from wondering when he tells me about his latest dream or Xbox game – – We each have to tweak our telling to not lose our audience, sometimes.)
According to my Animal Spirit Guide book, Lizard showing up means I’m supposed to pay close attention to my dreams, that my current situation calls for quiet and stillness, until it’s time to swiftly act and move. It also advises this is an especially sensitive time and I should be very careful about who and what I surround myself with.
And that I should listen to my own intuition over anyone else’s.
This is why I love this book and the I-Ching, as well. You don’t have to have a sign or toss the sticks to get wisdom – just pick up the book, let it fall open and read away – every entry is a reminder of taking care of yourself and navigating your world – but it does kick the fun up a notch to just read based on whatever sign has shown up.
And so, I also took a gander on when to call upon Lizard for assistance – finally, something jumped out at me that seemed more on target than just general, all around, good advice:
You’re in circumstances that require you to endure emotional or physical hardships and a seeming lack of resources
How great is it that Grandmother Lizard showed up to let me know I should call on her for assistance? Do I even need to call now or just rest in the gratitude that
“Before I asked, it was given unto me.”
I like the second story better!
Thank You, Grandmother Lizard, for showing up. I’ll quit worrying and know everything is taken care of – even if I haven’t quite figured out yet why you were barking…