Sunset

To see dark or stormy clouds in your dream symbolize depression or anger. It indicates an impending eruption of emotions. Alternatively, it represents a lack of wisdom or confusion in some situation. Thus, the dream may be a metaphor for your “clouded” way of thinking.”- dreammoods.com

That definition perhaps covers the makeup of the dream and what it’s telling me. I’m pretty much depressed and angered over what’s going on with my blog. My posts have been erratic due to one thing or another; however, the end of the dream has shown me a way. It took me days to decipher the dream, although right now is not the time to break down the full meaning in this post. I really need to make some changes and unfortunately, closing expandurmind.com may be one of them. What I do need is some help. I have opened up a “Go Fund Me” account directed to my audience. Please take the time to check it out.


Thursday, September 4, 2014; Unconscious dreaming
I was driving up a steep black top grade just after sunset. At the crest, the road made a hard left into an empty parking lot. The parking lot looked new; a recent rain had left its deep blackness polished in a thin sheen. The parking lot was large, and every five spaces were separated by an oval median. In the center of the median grew a small red oak tree. I pulled into a center spot that overlooked a city. The lot was at a higher elevation than the surrounding city, which stretched miles into the horizon. The most astonishing thing was a cloud growing over the city.

The cloud already covered nearly three-quarters of the sky. It rose out of the west like an ash plume from a volcano but held the billowy cumulonimbus shape. The base of the cloud ran along the horizon and widened as it got higher. The edges slowly rolled out along the upper atmosphere while long wispy-bluish horsetail clouds streamed ahead. As the sun dropped behind the horizon, its light set the cloud ablaze in fluorescent reds and deep dark oranges, which moved and changed as the cloud grew. Even the inner areas of darkness had a faint glow.

The open sky on three sides bordering between the black night and deep blue of the dusk, allowed 13 bright stars to twinkle down. From behind me, overhead flew an airliner climbing into the air, its direction taking it toward the cloud. The wing tips of the airliner were turned upward and rose high above the fuselage. The tips of the wings and its tail came into contact with the edge of the cloud. Golden sparks flew out from the tips of each, lighting off something in the clouds make up. This did not affect the plane as it rose higher, leaving trenches dug into the cloud. The plane came to the main body of the cloud and seemed to punch though, leaving an imprint of its shape.


Just before the cloud’s edges reached the stars, its growth stopped and almost immediately it began to roll back. The horsetail streamers evaporated, and the main body began to decrease in size in the direction of the already set sun. As it shrank, its billowy shape wrinkled like a deflating balloon. Collapsing in on itself, the last rays of the fading sunlight were released across the sky. As it got down to covering just a quarter of the sky, hard edges from the horizon up, appeared to take shape. The forming edges fanned out, becoming rough looking petals.

The rich fluorescent colors of red and orange stayed upon its surface but now held a painted look. The thin edges of the petal shapes spread vertically miles high, and the cloud took on a solid shape. The last of the sun’s rays caught the edges, bringing them alive with sparkles of sunlight throwing off multiple colors. The shape was now a familiar one, that of a fan coral found in oceans. Although I could not see the backside, I could image the light display being cast upward due to the rays shining into the heavens. Soon all the light faded and nothing more of the cloud, turned a fan-coral, could be seen but its silhouette. The same thirteen stars remained, and that was the last I recall.

Go Fund Me

Make that two tickets to Mars

If you have been a follower of my blog for a length of time, you may have noticed I have mother issues. It may sound disrespectful but the day she walked out on our family she did us all a favor. Some years later my father remarried a wonderful woman who adopted his children and loves us all unconditionally. As for my birth mother, I tried for years to be part of her life; nevertheless, it had to be on her terms. I could not lower myself to those terms so I broke the connection just over 16 years ago. I did feel guilty for a few years; however, while I was fighting thyroid disease, she sent me a message hoping I would meet my demise. I no longer feel guilty.

Saturday, June 7, 2014; (Unconscious dreaming)

In this dream my father and I were living in the same home. I was awakened in my bed by the opening of my bedroom door. It was morning, and I looked over to see who was coming into my room. My birth mother whom I had not seen in years came in. With her were two of my granddaughters, five and seven. In reality, my birth mother has never known these two.

“What are you doing here? And what are you doing with my granddaughters?” I asked.

“I picked them up to spend sometime with them and thought I would drop by,” she answered.

She approached my bed and told the girls to get over in the bed on my right side. My birth mother then, staying dressed, got in the bed to my left.

“What are you doing?” I raised my voice in protest.

“We have been on the road all night and need a nap,” she said.

“Not in my bed, especially when I’m still in it.”

“Well it’s the only one available other than in your father’s room, and I’m not sleeping with him.”

I threw off the blankets and climbed out from the foot of the bed. I was in my underwear and quickly pulled on my clothes.

“If you and the girls need a nap fine but not with me. You shouldn’t even be here. This is my father’s home and when he finds out you’re here; he’s going to explode,” I informed her.

“Well you and your father are going to have to get used to it because I’m moving in,” she told me.

I laughed. “He’s going to toss you out as soon as he finds you’re here.”

“No he’s not. I’m here to help take care of him. You can’t do it alone.”

“Take care of him? There’s nothing wrong with my father. No one needs to take care of him,” I said.

“Your father is demented. You can’t expect to take care of him yourself.”

I grew angry at her accusations and stormed out of my room. I went in search of my father. He and my birth mother, his ex, did not get along. My father, a calm and laid-back gentleman would pop a gasket once he found out my birth mother was not only here but planning on moving in. I heard him in his room and, getting to the door, I could tell he was arguing with someone.

I stepped inside to find him dressed and an open suit case on his bed. He had the phone tucked between his neck and shoulder while he was packing.

“You people are idiots!” he yelled at whoever was on the other end. He took the phone and began dialing. I was taken back because my father does not talk to people like that. His demeanor here was short-tempered and sarcastic.

“Dad, what’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m trying to go on a trip but everyone I talk to from airlines to bus stations refuses to sell me a ticket.” He continued packing with one hand while dialing another number.

“Where are you trying to go?” I asked.

“Mars. I’m taking a trip to Mars,” he informed me. The thought of most people would be he had meant the planet; however, I knew my father.

“Oh, you’re going to Mars, Pennsylvania?”

He briefly stopped his packing and gave me a look that was both irritated at the question and fed up with whatever answer he was about to give.

“No! Don’t be so stupid. I’m going to Mars, the planet.”

I let out a small chuckle only to get an icy cold stare from him.

About that time someone on the other end of the phone must have answered.

“Yes, I’m in need of a round trip ticket to Mars.”

The person on the other end obviously asked what everyone else thought. My fathers face turned red.

No!” he screamed into the phone, “Do these places hire nothing but idiots?” and threw the phone onto the bed. He reached over to his nightstand and pulled off a phone book. As he began flipping through the pages, I took the time to slip out the room.

I went back down the hall to my room. When I stepped in, my granddaughters were asleep. My mother was standing and in the process of undressing.

“Look,” I said, “this is crazy. You’re not staying here and don’t undress in my room.”

“This is our room now,” she spoke, “you’re going to have to share it with me.”

My father and I aren’t sharing anything with you. Get dressed and get out of the house,” I demanded.

I stepped back into the hallway, slamming the door closed which awoke me.

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Cougars vs Lions

I must also have a dark side if I am to be whole.” -C. G. Jung

In 1980, I lived in Summerville, SC. A friend and I had rented a townhouse together. At the time, I had a baby blue 73′ Cougar. Bobby, roommate and friend, liked it so much that he came across a brown one of the same year and purchased it. On one particular night, Bobby took his girlfriend out for her birthday to some fancy restaurant. Bobby did two things wrong that day. 1, He told me what restaurant he was going to and 2, I knew where his extra keys were kept for his car.

That evening my girlfriend at the time and I, went out to McDonald’s. We both made sure to order a lot, and then we ate in the car. After leaving McDonald’s, I drove over to the restaurant where Bobby and his girlfriend were dining. I took Bobby’s extra keys and moved his car to another space nearby. Since Bobby had backed his car in, I pulled it in. I then took all the McDonald’s trash out of my car and placed throughout Bobby’s.

That evening when Bobby got home, he banged on my bedroom door. He had to tell me of the incident that evening. Not only had someone somehow, stolen his car, but they only used it to go to McDonald’s and back. In 1982, Bobby had to move away. I never heard from him but, to this day, he has had a really great story to tell.

Other than the car and Bobby, the following dream has nothing to do with that tale. I just wanted to put it out there in case some day you come across my site, Bobby.

1981 (Unconscious dreaming)

Bobby and I had our 73′ Cougars behind a grocery store after closing. We had gone there to use some facilities the store had to wash our cars. Bobby finished before me and left. I finished sometime later and cleaned up my mess making sure to roll up the water hose. I got in and fired up the engine. Pulling out from the back, I drove around to the front by the right side of the store. As I entered the parking, something caught my eyes over to the left of me.

It was dark but for a few streetlights so at first I thought a truck was speeding my way. As the object passed by under one of the streetlights, I saw it was no truck but an enormous female lion. She headed directly for me. In reality and the dream, my cougar had a big block 429 police interceptor engine. I slammed the accelerator to the floor, and my car leaped ahead.

The lion’s speed was just fast enough to slowly gain on me. However, distance was in my favor. Moments later I came to the end of the parking lot. I had to make a hard turn to the left onto the main road. This briefly slowed me and also allowed the lion to cut across the parking lot to me. Once on the road I punched the accelerator, but the lion was on top of me.

She slammed her head against the left side of my car causing me to veer off the road. I swerved back on, keeping the pedal down. Even at my high speed she kept up. This time she opened her mouth showing teeth about a foot long. The car jerked as she sank her teeth into the rear. I snatched the car to the right and back to the left making her release it. I watched in my rear-view mirror as her front legs went down, and her hind legs came up.

I thought she had stumbled, but then she made an incredible leap. I saw her disappear from my mirror as she bounded over the car. I was expecting to her come over the hood but instead, I felt the impact of her large body slamming down on top. It sounded as if the car had exploded from her weight, and I jerked awake.

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Homeless

I stay pretty much a positive person, doing my best to look on the bright side of things. No matter how bad life can get, I’m sure there is someone near by who would gratefully trade places with me—whatever the situation is, it could always be worse. There are dreams that deeply depress me after I am awake, usually they are of other realities in which my life could have been totally different. I can usually deal with them, unless they involve my children or grandchildren.

These dreams I just would like to forget about because I know in all the realities out there, this may be another scenario I am living through. One thing to make clear, my father in this dream is not the father in my life here. I am blessed with a very loving father.

 

Wednesday, June 11, 2014, (an unconscious dream)

I had a very depressing dream to the point of wanting to forget it rather than write it down. I had my three children; Jonathan, Daniel and Marie who were 5, 4 and 3. We were homeless and living on the street. I had looked for work but there was none. In the dream, I arrived at my father’s apartment with my children. He answered the door and when he saw us, an irritated look appeared on his face. I explained my dilemma saying I had hoped we could stay with him until I had gotten work and a place to live. Since it was so late he allowed us to spend the night in his apartment. He made it clear that we had to be out by the time he got up in the morning and if anyone awoke him, we had to leave right then.

He did share his food that evening and went to bed after informing me we were not to awaken him. He closed the door to his room, which seemed to be made of thick steel. Because the apartment was only a one bedroom, I made beds on the living room floor, while Jonathan my oldest, helped his brother and sister get comfortable. The following morning I had to wake up the kids and leave. They were hungry, but I had been afraid my father would have awakened so we had to leave hungry.

We walked for some time, with my children upset because they were still tired and in need of a meal. As we passed a motel, an idea came to me. I took the kids behind the motel and came in through the rear door of the lobby. The motel had a free continental breakfast for its guests. Coming through the rear lobby door made it look as though we had stayed the night. We did not have any baths in sometime. What hurt me most was seeing my daughter filthy. Her long hair not brushed in sometime and her clothes were hand-me-downs from her brothers.

We all ate until full, and I had the kids stuff their pockets with what they could. This would provide some food for later. On the way out of the motel Daniel, my middle child, asked me if he could have a bath. It was heart breaking, but I had to explain we had nowhere to bathe. He asked if we could go back to his grandfather’s and use his shower. I knew what my father’s answer was going to be, but I had to ask for my children.We walked back to my father’s apartment, hoping he would at least allow us the use of his bathroom. I knocked lightly on the front door, but he never came. I tried the doorknob and found the door to be unlocked. I stepped inside and looked around. I had the kids come just inside the door and told them to be quiet. I tiptoed down the hall to his bedroom. The thick steel door was closed and locked, meaning he was in there but asleep. I would not even dare to awaken him knowing the results if I did. Our best bet was to come back in the morning when he was up.

I had to tell my children we would have to wait. Outside was dark, and I had to find a place for us to sleep. Marie held up her arms for me to carry her. I picked her up, and we left the apartment. Jonathan took Daniel’s hand, and they walked alongside me. Marie quickly fell asleep in my arms. I recalled a large stroller nearby someone had thrown out. If it was still there perhaps I could use it to put Marie in as a bed, but because it was late and dark by then the children were too tired to walk anymore.

Across the street from my father’s, apartment was a park. I led the boys into the thick grass and lay down. I kept Marie on my chest and had Jonathan and Daniel lie on each side of me. This way, they could use my shoulders as pillows. I wrapped my arms around them, and we all went to sleep in the grass. When I awoke, I was back here in my bed.

 

The Crossing

As of June 25, 2014, godaddy, my web and blog host provider will terminate this and all their other blogs. Leaving customers out in the cold does not seem to be a problem for godaddy however’ this has left me in a scramble to download all my blogs and set them back up to word press.
I am not sure if this will be my last post from the godaddy quick blog however, here is the new address. I hope you will subscribe again at my new home; https://wtcjr.wordpress.com
Thank you,
William T Carroll, Jr.

Friday, June 6, 2014; (an unconscious dream)
It was some time after midnight and I was in my car. I was on my way to some appointment and seemed to be running a bit behind. I knew of a short cut, a road rarely used from the main road I was on through a small neighborhood. I took a right off the road onto the shortcut. The shortcut was an abandoned road that had become narrow due to the overgrowth of a field on both sides. The road was rough and cracked, keeping me around 25 mph.

Something several yards away dashed out from the left of the tall grass and into the right side of the field. The movement had been too fast and sudden to see what it might have been but it was a light brown or tan and about the size of a dog. I turned on my high beams which lit up the field on both sides and the back of homes some distance away at the end of the road.

The field on both sides grew from about two feet high along the edge to nearly six feet about ten feet away from the road. I began to get sleepy and pushed the car up to 30 mph. Something bolted out from the left of the high grass just in front of my car. I hit the brakes coming to an immediate stop. Whatever the animal had been, it had completed its crossing quick and unharmed. All I had seen of it was a tan pelt the size of a fox, not that it had been one. I continued on, bringing my speed back up to 25 mph.

Far ahead, another animal rushed across from the left over to the right and disappeared into the grass. It had been too far away and fast to get a look at what it may have been but it was large like a deer. It also had the same tan color as the last two. The homes I had first seen, seemed no closer than before. I moved my speed back up to 30 mph.

After only seconds at that speed, my instincts caused my foot to hit the brake as another animal cut across close in front of me. This one had been the smallest but as the others, had the same tan color. I proceeded on, slowly regaining my 25 mph speed. Just within my sight up ahead something the size of a buck bounded over the road in two strides from the left. It landed in the right side of the field.

As I had done with all the encounters, I glanced over to the right where they had gone. I never saw any of them. Strangely no two had been the same size or shape but all had been the same light tan color and I had gotten no good look at any of them. The homes I was going toward were getting no closer. It soon became apparent that when I got up to 30 mph, the creatures would wait and race out in front of me. Below that speed, they would cross far ahead just within my headlights but not close enough to tell what they were.

As I drove I held the car to 25 and continued to glance over to the right side of the road. The tall grass was the same shade of tan as were the animals that had been crossing. I began to see forms moving within the grass and slowed. As I slowed the animals either moved deeper into the grass or sank down. The homes at the end had been in my sights for many minutes but still I was no closer— like a mirage they stayed at the same distance all the time. Sleep began to overwhelm me and I found it harder to stay on the narrow road. No longer able to drive safely, I came to a stop. My thought was to shut the car off and sleep until morning. I had hoped when the sun came up I would be able to get to the end of the road.

I worried that another car might come up behind me and run into the back of me. I eased the car over to the right. I drove slowly as the front of my car had to push the high grass down. Completely off the road, the right side, front and rear of my car were buried against the grass. If anyone did come along, they would not see me until they were right beside me.

I turned the car off which cut the lights as well. I dropped my seat back to sleep. Although there were no lights out I could just make out the tops of the grass surrounding me. Forms began to move through the grass coming up to the car. They moved around and against the car, I reached to turn on the lights but the forms rushed away. I turned on the lights, seeing nothing but the road to my left and the grass around me.

Then strange creatures moved deep within the grass, so camouflaged that it was hard to see them once they stood still. The grass seemed to become thick with the creatures and I began to get nervous. I started the car and eased back out on the road. Picking up speed again, the animals also continued crossing the road once more, still too faraway to make out. My eyes remained heavy and a few times I nodded off. On one of my nods, I jerked my head back up only to find myself in my bed awake.

My visit with Patricia

My visit to the following place had to have been over two hours. The discussion between myself and one other person would fill twice the pages I have here if I wrote it all out. As I like to write out the conversations, I have in my dreams, most of this discussion was on me and my family along with a lot of personal things. Because of this, I only wrote out what pertained to the person and place I was in.

Thursday, April 24, 2014; (Out of body experience)
I had been on a boat for a few minutes when it came to me that I was dreaming. From what I saw, the boat may have been somewhere around 60 feet long and about ten feet wide. It was built as a shuttle because the interior had soft seats lined on each side facing each other. The top was covered in a tinted glass or plastic to protect the passengers from the bright sun and elements. I looked around seeming to be the only one aboard.

I stood and looked out the canopy on each side. The sky was a cloudless Maya blue, and the water around me was vast and calm. To the back of the boat was an open area. I walked to the rear and stood on the stern. A coastline was far behind me from where the boat had left. I turned and headed to the forward section to see who might be piloting the vessel.

The boat was far quieter than I expected, and moved quickly over the water. The bow held a sliding a transparent door which led out to a ten-foot ten-foot square deck. I did not see any cabin or area for piloting. I figured the boat may be self-propelled. I looked out over the water in front. A few miles a head rose a tall structure out of the ocean; it seemed this was my destination.

The structure was a trio of colors. Its main surface was white with dots and streaks of green. Around the dots of green there blazed azure blue lights. As I got closer the structure looked more like an ocean vessel, larger than any, I had ever seen in my reality. Three tall inward curved columns rose into the air and met at a dome structure topped in green.
Soon I began to pick out the green as gardens and the top dome as a forest. People walking along the waters edge of the structure came into view. Just over a mile out I could see the columns outer surface held terraced gardens. The blazing azure blue turned out to be windows set all throughout the structure. A ring of them ran around the edge of the dome. On the level just above the water some fifty feet up to the windows looked to be door openings onto balcony gardens. These were wide and placed about twenty to twenty-five feet apart.

Between the apartments and water line, the structure sloped out into a beach perhaps one hundred feet. This I assumed ran around the entire structure which had to be at least a mile wide or more. An area I was approaching had docks cut into the surface. A few held boats like the one rode in. Standing next to one of the empty docks was a woman looking my way.

The boat slowed and eased into the slip that had been molded into the shape of the boat. The boat docked smoothly and fit into the slip as if it were part of the surface. The woman stood only a few feet away watching me. She had a deep tan unless it had been her natural color. Her hair was curly and held nearly the same tint as her skin coming down to touch her shoulders. She stepped up to the boat and held out her hand; I took it and stepped up next to her.
“William?” she asked surprisingly and with an astonish look.

“Yes.” surprised myself she would know me if this was an out of body experience. With the look on her face, she had not been expecting me.

“Hi, it’s so great to meet you. I’m Patricia.” her gaze at me turned to one as if she were meeting a celebrity for the first time.

“Were you expecting someone else?” I asked.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone. I just found myself here, on the shore of my home. You may not understand, but I’m having a dream or an out of body experience.”

“Then we both are; this must be a meeting place between realities.” I announced to her.

“I only arrived a few moments ago right here. I saw the boat arriving and thought I should wait. When you got close, I noticed you from pictures on the net.”

“Your facial features resemble my daughter.” I told her.

“Really? It does make sense you see; I am the great-granddaughter of your granddaughter Abby.” she said.

“That would make you my,” I had to think, “my great, great, great-granddaughter.”

“Yes.” she asked.

“So you’re in the future while I’m in the past. What year are you from?”

“2105. This is my home.” she waved her left arm over the structure, “or the dream version but, it is accurate.”

“If this is a ship, it’s huge.”

“It’s a floating community, a home. Also an acronym for Habitations Of Mobile Environments. I’ve been trying for years to find out more of my family. There’s not much on my father’s side. All I know of my mothers is my great-grandmother Abby, who I met once when I was five. We stayed with her for a few days. I told her of dreams I had. She said I took that after my great-great grandfather. She said he visited strange places in his sleep and shared them with the world. She added he even had visited her great-granddaughter when she was much older, and her name was Patricia also.”

“Which one was that?” I asked.

“My visit with Patricia.”

“I don’t recall that one.”

“I’m sure. That’s because you haven’t written it yet. My guess is this is it. When you get back in your reality, you’ll write it and post it to the net. It’s how I’ll find you.”

“I would have thought it should have been easy; it’s the Internet. At least, some version of Facebook would still be around.” I said.

“Let me take you on a tour of the place and I’ll explain.”

“Is this keeping within the dream I’ll write out.” I asked.

“Yes.” she began stepping toward the inner structure, I kept to her side.

“There is no Internet, a few things killed it. It took away all privacy. A majority of people dropped it others just got bored. Those that stuck it out began to lose everything. There was so much corruption on the net that millions of people lost everything in stocks, finances and stolen identities. Businesses collapsed from people removing themselves from the online world. Businesses that were off line became the new money makers. The only way to make it, was to stay away from the net. Some government and historical societies kept a lot of the data for history, but it soon became illegal to keep any personal information.”

By this time, we made it up the slopped embankment to an opening to the interior. While we had walked and I listened, I took in the scene around me. The material we walked on was white and soft. There were no seams or breaks in the surface. Pineapple, banana and other fruit trees grew in single file’s dozens of feet from the waters edge.
We entered an enormous hall that ran out of sight in the curved part of the HOME.

“I would really like to know more of my family.” she said, bringing us to a stop in front of a large ten feet high and twelve long curved screen. “My mother and father raised me on the oceans, and we never did any visit family but for once, on my mother’s side. I met my great-grandmother, Abby, when I was about five. I think we stayed with her for several days.”

The conversation bounced back and forth from changes of the twenty century to our family. She explained that due to the collapse of the Internet and financial institutions, governments went down or declared Marshall law. The United states was one that declared. With Marshall, law came the militia breaking out small wars throughout the states. Between the fighting, flooding and devastating storms, families were separated.

Even through all the hardships many cities and communities made it. While factories went down those that held the 3d printers could provide many needed resources. Buy the time all things were falling apart, 3d printers had advanced to the stage of building homes, structures and also caused a further economic collapse due to being self-sufficient. One major export of the printers was floating vessels.

Barges were the easiest of the vessels to print out, and size was never a problem. Like Lego’s, these barges could lock together, and soon small communities were being built upon the water. The printers built their own replacement parts along with any parts or repairs needed for the H.O.M.E’s. Once you added dirt and gardens, the H.O.M.E communities cut themselves off from the main lands.

As printers could build copies of themselves, many were established throughout the world until even most communities had them. If you could grow your own food, the printer provided everything else including weapons. Years later another advance was when printer technology began to print out food. It was not the best tasting or nutritious, but it kept you alive.

With most, all needs met, a person never had to work for anyone else to earn a living. Factories, banks and cities collapsed further. Money soon became obsolete. Once things began to settle down on land, many fed up with the governments also turned to the seas.

The screen we stood in front of came on. An image of the HOME shown from several hundred feet above and off to one side. As we exchanged information, me supplying family knowledge and her a HOME tour.

The H.O.M.Es were totally self-sufficient. The main body was doughnut shaped. The top side was flat where the gardens grew. On the outside, living quarters ran mostly around the structure. Below the living quarters, the surface gently slopped outward into the water creating a beach shoreline. Around the shoreline grew fruit trees. The white material that made up the HOME also captured energy. It collected this energy through solar and pressure. A wave, the wind, even a foot step against the surface produced energy, which was transferred to batteries. All windows throughout the HOME were transparent and solar collectors; the structure brought in far more energy than needed. Water was collected from rain and sea.

Even cities on land were being made of the same material which led to utilities company’s becoming obsolete. Oil and coal were no longer needed stopping most productions. The biggest problems now in Patricia’s time were storms. On land, the storms caused floods, drought and crop damage. Since printed homes were designed to handle most weather, they still did no good if the area you lived in became unlivable. The H.O.M.Es solved this problem. Massive engines moved the structures away from hurricanes and rough seas while also directing them in the path of rain that fed the corps and filled reservoirs.

This movement also kept them away from skirmishes on land and water. At the time, it was the habit for these ocean communities to run on silence. Satellites easily picked them up, but if you did not know which nationality, a H.O.M.E held, usually it was left alone. Patricia moved to this HOME when hers reached its population quota. Every home had a limit on its population and once met; volunteers were asked to relocate to new HOME. Patricia had moved to this HOME almost ten years ago where she met her husband, and they had a seven-year-old daughter.

Under the garden which was the interior top floor were most of the living quarters. On the inside ring across from the living quarters were the cafeterias. No one had kitchens in their homes. On the lower, level were shops and entertainment areas. These levels of the interiors were and wide and high. Light shafts all throughout the hall brought in streaming beams of light.

Trenches of soil ran along each wall and from those grew flower and fruit trees up to thirty feet. On each side of the living quarter’s doors, occupants grew plants and bushes of their choice. The whole inside on each level was an arboretum. The next level down held manufacturing from parts, boats and food production. Although I never got a chance to visit the area, An outer area next to manufacturing was transparent. One could walk or sit and take in the ocean from many feet under.

The screen we stood in front of was so clear that it gave me the sensation I was actually floating through each part of the HOME. Outside in the center of the ring, held the HOMES reservoir and water park. Swimming, snorkeling, water rides, skiing and so on. The three main columns that rose from the inner edge and connected to the large dome above, were terraced living quarters. These quarters were often taken by patrons once a new H.O.M.E. Patricia’s husband and daughter lived in one of the columns.

Quarters in the ring were usually taken by new comers later and/ or children who had become adults and moved out. All living quarters held a balcony. On these balconies were small gardens that the occupants grew. The gardens could be anything from extra foods that families wanted for themselves or foods that were not grown in the community gardens. These foods were then used for bartering.

The dome on the H.O.M.E. had two purposes. The top area was set up as a park and forest which included animals such as deer, raccoons, squirrels and other creatures that were community safe. The underside of the dome held an amphitheater large enough for the entire population.

During the tour of the HOME, she also described how she had come about finding me. The so-called Internet had not completely died but only carried information. Because of the straggle hold it had on the world it was now known as the “net.” To stop the damage of identity thief it became illegal to place any personal information on the net. Even information on deceased people was forbidden due to leading to family members.

While the net began to crash in the first quarter of the 21st century, countless information was lost. The only information Patricia had on her family had been a great-grandmother named Abby, and her great-great-great grandfather named William. There was no longer a web and Patricia had to locate each company or Historical society that had information from the early 21st century.

She searched personal dreams, which brought up billions of hits. From there she searched the dreams with an author named William, this reduced her findings down to millions. There she hunted for any that had the name Abby and Patricia; the total was still near a million. She spent months in pursuit hitting dead ends or new searches. Then one day a thought came to her.

Her great grandmother Abby had mentioned the dream her grandfather had had. If he had placed it on the net for all to see, perhaps he would have given it an easy title. Patricia went as far as to believe that if William had indeed visited her in the future she could give him the title. Patricia typed in, “My visit with Patricia.” Only one came up. From there she found hundreds thousands of my dreams and a few sites I had were on file.

Due to personal information laws the only way, she had to find out more on me, and our family was if she had the personal passwords to those sites. At that point, I gave Patricia the code on how all my passwords were set up. I also informed her that she would find a genealogy list of our family that went back hundreds of years.

I stepped up to Patricia and gave her a long deep hug. She hugged me back, but I could still see may have been a bit confused.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“I don’t know when one of us may be waking up and I didn’t want to depart without hugging you.”
She leaned into me again and gave me another hug.

“When you get back could you tell my great grandmother hello for me?” she requested.
“I will but she’s only eight, she might not understand.”

“You can wait until she’s older.” Patricia said.

“No, I’m going to tell her as soon as I get back. Besides, I have to write about all this so you can find me.”

“People may think you’re a bit crazy.” she said smiling.

“From this dream? Obviously, you haven’t read many of my dreams.” I told her.
My eyes batted open as music from my alarm woke me.

PinPointing A.R.T.

As I begin to write this out, the date is Thursday, April 3, 2014. The date of the following out of body experience is 1994. As in all of my out of body experiences, they live alongside the everyday experiences of my life. Back then I was sharing my dreams with whomever might be interested. As far as my out of body experiences, they were rarely shared but for my wife and kids. When I would add them to my journal, the descriptions were brief because I already had the details and events in my memory.

Now I am sharing with the world so the time has come to write it all out. Like any memory I have, the events, here are still fresh in my mind. Although the discussions in the following OBE are not word-for-word, they are very close. The decision to put this OBE out, there is due in part to a few others I want to post but would not make any sense without this one going out first.

1994; OBE

My alarm went off awakening me from my night’s sleep. I reached around the head of the bed and shut it off. I am usually awake a couple of hours before sunrise but this morning the sun was already beaming through the curtained window. Even stranger, I would never set my alarm for after sunrise. I opened my eyes and took a look around the room. I was taken back because it was not my room.

I was in a twin bed that sat in a small room perhaps 12 x 14. A single window let in the morning sun on the opposite wall. On the wall to the left of the head of the bed was a door. The wall running at a right angle from the door had an open closet full of mens’ clothes. A dresser stood just to the right of the closet door. I threw back the sheets and sat up. I briefly wondered how I had gotten here but more importantly, where was I?

I looked down and saw I had on a pair of boxers. I knew right then I was having an out of body experience because I don’t wear boxers. I walked over to the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, a shirt and some socks out of the dresser. I found a pair of shoes next to the bed. After I dressed I left the bedroom. The door opened into a short hallway. To the left was another bedroom at the end and two doors along the same wall as mine. To the right, the hall opened to a larger room with wide windows.

I stopped at the end of the hall to the right. It opened into a small well furnished and decorated living room. To the right of the living room was a table for four. At the table sat my then ten-year-old son Jonathan. Although I was well in his sight, he did not turn to look at me but stared straight ahead. I walked over to the table which brought into view a small kitchen. My birth mother was cleaning up some dishes that were in the sink. I turned back to my son who I now stood in front of, but he took no notice of me.

“Would you like some breakfast?” my mother asked looking over at me.

“No thank you,” I responded, and she went back to cleaning.

(While in an OBE I always try to act natural, it gives me less time explaining myself and more for exploring.)

I looked back at my son. His eyes were a bright copper color and unblinking. I bent down to look into his face, still he took no notice of me. I caught a movement in his pupils and leaned over closer to him until I was within a foot of his eyes. The lenses of his eyes looked to be made of glass and behind them were tiny moving parts like the inside of a watch.

“I just fed him,” my mother said, causing me to jerk back upright. Her voice startled me.

I looked at her, then back to my son.

“What’s wrong with his eyes?” I asked

“Nothing, everything is working fine.” she said.

“Working? They’re not real?” I thought about his emotionless face and still form. “Is he an android?” I asked looking from her to him.

“What?” My mother looked at me as if I were crazy then she responded, “You’re not Philip.”

I stood there looking at her, not quite sure how to respond. As I stood motionless she added, “You’re one of those counterparts.”

“You’re aware of who I am?” I asked her.

“I am aware of who you’re not. You need to get to the college,” she said.

“What college?” I asked.

“The one down there,” she pointed out the rear of what I believed was an apartment. To the left of the kitchen were a set of sliding glassing doors. I looked back at her.

“Why do I need to go there? And what kind of college is it?”” I asked.

“I’m not sure why. I don’t understand most of it. However, Philip always said, if this happened, convince his counterpart to get over to the center building of the college. That’s the main building for the College of Art.” she finished.

I looked out the sliding glass door she pointed to. Outside ran a sidewalk between what looked from here to be apartment buildings or condos. She walked over to the door and slid one side open.

“Why a college of art?” I asked.

She had a nervous but stern look on her face as if I were someone who had just broken into her home, I then realized I kind of had. I was a stranger not only in her home but her son’s body. I decided to take her advice.

“You need to go,” she said.

I began to move a couple of steps toward the door and stopped. I looked back at Jonathan.

“What’s going on with my son and his eyes?” I asked.

“He’s not your son, he’s Philip’s. He was in an accident which caused brain injuries. It’s in the healing center.”

“His brain has been removed?” I asked in shock.

“Well it’s kind of hard to care for an organ when it’s inside the body. You need to leave or I will have to call campus security.”

She held the door in her right hand while showing me the exit with her left. I looked between her and my son and thought it best to take her advice so, I walked out and took a left onto the sidewalk.

The sky was a cloudless unblemished blue as I walked between apartments and well trimmed lawns. The buildings were made of brick and seemed to be trimmed out in stone or perhaps granite. The design was beautiful. After a while, the apartments ended and opened up to three large buildings some 300 yards away. The school had the same design and trim work as the apartments.

Two large twin buildings set on each side of what I took as the central building. The building in the middle resembled a state capital with the columns and dome. This I guessed would be where I needed to check in. The sidewalk running from the apartments continued up the left side of the campus and made its way in front of all three buildings. Once it came to the end of the far building it split in two, one following the building around back and the other somewhere off on the other side of the apartment buildings.

The center of the three buildings was a small park. A few trees, a large pond and lots of people strolling around, sitting or just napping under the sun. Just as I came up on the first building on my left I heard my counterpart’s name being called out.

“Philip?” It came as a question from a female voice. I turned looking in the direction of the park. I caught sight of a young woman approaching and looking in my direction. She was slim about five-five with light brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. She wore a dark-blue blouse along with jeans and tennis shoes.

She stepped up to me.

“I thought you had the day off?” she asked. I was not sure how to respond so I just said,

“I have something to take care of in here.” I said waving up at the main building. I turned to walk away in hopes no questions would be asked. She gripped my arm. I stopped.

“In there?” she asked. “Are you Philip or a counterpart?”

I was silent for only a couple of seconds, but it had been enough that she knew.

“You’re not Philip,” she stated.

“No. My name is William. My mother or Philips mother,” I corrected myself, “said I needed to come here.”

“She told you? You didn’t know that for yourself?” the woman asked.

“How would I know that?”

“You’ve never been here.” It was a statement more than a question, but I answered.

“Of course not. As you know, I’m his counterpart.”

She wrapped her left arm into my right.

“Come on. I’ll explain, time is of the essence. Do you understand what’s happening to you? Why you’re here?” she asked as she guided me to the next building over.

“I know I’m in an out of body experience. I’m just taken back that others are aware of it also. Philip’s mother was adamant that I come here,” I said, pointing to the middle building, “I only came because I knew she was uncomfortable with me in her home, and I’m more curious as to why I need to come to a museum.” I could see her working on what I had said.

“A museum?” she wondered.

“Yes, she told me to get to the art building.”

“What was your reason for being here?” she asked.

“I’m having an out of body experience.”

“Out-of-body-experience.” She sounded each word out separately. “I like that, out of body experience,” she repeated. “Here we call it ART; Alternate Reality Traveling. It’s rare we get anyone from a new reality, especially here on campus. Philip is one of our top travelers and pinpoint readers. That’s the ART welcome center.” She pointed to the center building. “It’s where ambassadors from other realities check in.”

“Check in?” I asked.

“Yes but we need to get you over to a mapping room.” Her arm still in mine she moved to a quicker pace toward the far building.

“What is the mapping room?” I asked.

“There.” She pointed to the furthest building. “someone at the ART building would have escorted you there. A pinpoint reader would then help to identify which reality you come from in hopes of establishing communications with your reality.”

“You can map where other realities are?” I asked.

“Sure, doesn’t your reality include training and locating in ART or out of body experience?” The term seemed to flow across her speech.

“Not really. There are some who teach it but for the majority it’s not taken seriously.” I explained.

“We come across a lot of realities that don’t place a high priority on it but not many that don’t take it seriously. So far, we haven’t found any that are as committed as us. It’s a shame because so many realities could benefit from it.”

“How?” I asked, “you can’t bring anything back with you.”

“That’s another one so many fail on. We bring back the most priceless commodity of all, knowledge. Sixty to seventy percent of our technology comes from the study of more advanced realities than ours.”

“Back at the apartment of my counterpart, his son was part machine. Is that part of the technology? My mother said his brain was in the healing center.”

“That’s right. Philip’s son was in a car accident with severe brain damage. We have the ability to remove the brain and other organs until they can be repaired. It’s much easier that way also. The patient doesn’t have to stay in the hospital or continually be cut open to get to the organ. While they’re outside the body, mechanisms are put in place. In his son’s case, the brain has been replaced with a network that will keep the body mobile and fit until the brain is well enough to be put back.”

“If there was that much damage will he be the same?” I asked, concerned. “I’m sure you have the capability to return all his motor skills but what about memories. Will he be the same person as before?”

“I guess you don’t have neuron recorders in your reality?”

“I’m not sure what you’re taking about?”

“We have a band placed around our heads while we sleep. It records all of that day’s memories and any dreams or A.R.T.’s, we have during the night.”

“Like the one I woke up with,” I mentioned.

“Yes. The recorder saves that day’s memories along with all other previous memories. At least once a week it replays those recording back to our brain, which enhances our recall. He’ll be fine.”

“And no, we don’t have anything like your recorders. We’re no where this advanced. I am curious about some things. Where is Philip right now if I am here in his body? Is he back in mine?” I asked.

“Probably not. He is in an ART himself. The void he left in his mind allowed you access. It’s a rare and nice coincidence, counterparts in an ART at the same time.”

“That’s another thing. I have traveled to a lot of places. Most wouldn’t have a counterpart of me there, yet I’m there in my real form.”

“We’re all pure energy. Your flesh back in your own reality keeps that energy bottled up as a vessel. In an ART state, you materialize your form. Although its energy is not physical, that’s why we don’t have to worry about being injured or death. If you’re asking these questions, my guess is your culture doesn’t place a lot of growth in achieving higher realms. Obviously, some do but not the majority.”

By this time, we made it up to the steps of the mapping building.

The building’s architecture inside was completely different from its outside. Where the exterior had been three stories of brick, mortar and granite, the interior was glass, Plexiglas and tile. The main hall was perhaps a hundred feet wide and separated in the middle by six escalators that ran to each floor. The escalators were parted by ten to twelve feet, so they never blocked the full view of the building behind them. The walls they ran between were thick glass or some see though material so, once again the view was hardly blocked. All the walls but a few throughout the interior also were see through. I could even see through walls that from the outside had been bricked.

“How can we see through the walls when their solid from the outside?” I asked.

“The outside structure isn’t really there. The entire building is rectangular and made up of transparent polymer. What you see on the outside is a 3D projection on the surface. We can also do the same for any of the interior walls like the ceiling.” she pointed up to the transparent roof. “Turn everything off and all you would see it a six-story clear glass building.” she explained.

“But I counted three stories” I looked at her, “even here I see only three.”

“Floors four, five and six are dedicated as meditation areas of travel. Outside they project the sky around them. Above us, the outside sky is shone just as it is.”

I was amazed at what I saw. The ceiling looked to be only a large window into the blue sky with the sun shining down on us.

“All the walls are the same.” she pointed to the clear walls the escalators ran up and down on, “those also can project images placed on them.”

We took one of the escalators up to the second floor. Just off to the right was a large room with several people standing with their backs to us. Their focus was through a clear wall into another room. A door slid back, and we stepped inside with the others. In the adjourning room was a man bent over a table perhaps six feet by six feet.

“This is one of our map rooms.” she said nodding to the other room.

The table top was thin and its main color was as dark blue. Hundreds or maybe thousands of small silver circles covered the top, many lapping over one another. Where the circles intersected each other, the crossed sections glowed gold. The entire thing was very beautiful. Looking closer at the detail, the circles glowed a in many tones of the dark blue while others held a glossy black.

They were all focusing on a small gadget on the table the man had. It seemed to be some kind of compass made of stainless steel. It had several rotating arms mounted on thin rings. All the arms centered and rotated around a small gold disk about the size of a shirt’s button. The top-most arm was the longest and started at the disk. The disk and it swiveled together. It reached out like a tiny sword about six inches and at the point held a minute clear lens. Below this arm, were seven others at about three inches in length and below them seven pairs an inch shorter. I noticed the man manipulating the device had an emblem on his dark-blue shirt on the left of his chest. The emblem was the device.

“What is all this?” I asked the woman.

“This is a map of the known realities. The instrument there is the Pinpoint which locates and maps the realities. The circles are other realities. The pinpoint locates and map’s realities we have visited. The darker the blue the more established communication we have with them. If you see two crossing over there will be these two bright spots where they meet. Inside the eye shape, they create is the ethereal plane. We can’t actually visit these realities by ART, but we can get pretty good idea of their culture by the energy patterns. We tend to stay away from these realities only because they are less advanced.”

“How can anyone track dreams and out of body experiences?”

“Easy, energy patterns. Doesn’t your world do that?” she asked.

“No, for the most part, the majority believes OBEs are just realistic dreams,” I said.

“We run across some like that. It’s what we call low energy realms. Instead of building a higher awareness level, they are usually found supporting material gain instead. That’s what the black areas are.

“Yea, that sounds like mine. So you just stay away from those?”

“It’s not that we stay away from them but because the energy fields are much lower it repels the higher one. There are very few ARTs that can or have visited those realities. Most don’t last very long,” she said.

“You mean the visits?”

“No, their world.” She turned her attention to the man in the room and knocked on the wall. The man looked up in shock as if he would never have expected to be disturbed. He then saw the woman who had knocked and gave her a look as if she were out of her mind. She pointed to me.

“New arrival,” she said loudly mouthing the words so her lips could be read also. The man stared at her. shrugging his shoulders.

“First timer!” She got louder mouthing the words plainly.

The man’s eyes went wide as he looked at me then back to the woman. She was shaking her head. The man stood upright and rushed to the wall which parted allowing us access. The woman stepped through the opening pulling me in with her. The wall closed behind us.

“His name is William.” She said introducing me, “his reality may be a low-energy dimension. He’s been here for sometime so I’m not sure, how long he has.”

The man still had not said a word until he reached over to the pinpoint and held it in front of me.

“Place your finger on the collector,” he said.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” I said.

“Here.” He pointed to the small gold disk in the center. “It will read your energy field and help us to find where and if you’re on the map.”

I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to participate.

“You won’t feel anything, but it will place your reality on the map,” the woman said.

I reached out and laid my middle right hand finger on the disk. I had no more placed it there when the man pulled it away and sat the pinpoint back on the table.

“The pinpoint can read energy fields immediately,” the woman informed me. “The first place he sits it back on is our reality and begins from there.”

“So it pinpoints the reality, which gives it the name,” I mentioned.

“Yes.” she said, “but, it’s also an acronym. Position indicator pinpointing infinite trajectories.”

My attention went back to the man and the map. The yellow jewel embedded in the middle suddenly seem to glow a bit brighter on one side. The man swung the top-most arm in the direction of the brightness. The woman leaned into my right ear.

“The collector has tiny chambers that distribute your energy pattern. The rings making up the realities are recorded energy patterns also. The pinpoint is on the map starting in this reality. Your energy pattern flows to the side of the collector which picks up the direction of similar patterns. The top arm is then turned to that direction. The sensors below help to focus on those patterns, while the bottom sensor’s repel others that would not match.”

The man turned the top set of the sensors slowly in the same area. The brighter spot on the disk faded, and he stopped the turn. He then began turning another sensor. Once the area illuminated again he stopped.

It took some time, but I realized he manipulated the middle sensor arms when the jewel was lit. He then adjusted the bottom sensors until it went out. When he seemed please with the arrangement, he marked the area by where the lens of the top arm sat over. The spot on the map lit up, same size and shape as the lens. The man then pushed the pinpoint’s center to the spot and started over again.

I stood watching intently waiting for my reality to, hopefully be found. A few minutes more went by when things blurred and went dark. I looked around to see I was back in bed, in my reality.

Castrating Fear

In the following dream, I recall an accident at the age of twelve. The accident and description are both real.

Thursday, March 20, 2014; (Unconscious dreaming)

I was standing in an operating room in front of a gurney. There were three staff members on the side of the gurney across from me, behind them were six copper looking tanks. On the gurney before me was the surgeon instead of a patient. The surgeon claimed to have a way of healing diseased body parts. The parts of the body that were infected had to be cut off and soaked in a chemical bath for some time. Once the disease was gone, and the part was healed it could be easily reattached to the person. The doctor was explaining all of this to me because I had a disease he wanted to help me get rid of. I had been very skeptical so the doctor was operating on himself.

The surgeon was in the process of cutting off his own limbs. As they came off, his staff placed them in small tanks. Once the doctor was down to one arm, his torso and head, he explained to me that all would be soaked for one year. After one year, his staff would put him back together and reanimate him. I stood there as the staff removed his arm and head placing them along with his torso in the tanks.

A year later I found myself standing next to the doctor who had been recently reanimated and restored back to health. It was late afternoon on the corner of a crossroad. I recognized the intersection. It was a spot where I had been hit by a car at age twelve. Standing there in the dream, I relived the accident in my mind. An impatient driver in a dune buggy, accelerating around a car in front of him that had come to a stop in the road. He jestered to the stopped driver as he passed, his attention being bought back to the road by a sudden impact at the front of his car.

I recalled the sound of an accelerating engine and looked to my left. I only saw a glimpse of the car’s hood as my body was viciously slammed down on its top. Witnesses said I had gone through the windshield then made contact with the rear roll bar. This flipped me into the air and deposited me two lanes over on the side of the road.

As the doctor and I stood on the corner where I first entered the road on my bike, I looked across at the place my body had landed. On that spot stood a book store. I could just read a sign on the door, “Closed after hours.”

We need to get in the bookstore,” the doctor said.

But it’s closed,” I told him, pointing to the sign on the door.

You have the keys. We can go over, and you can unlock the door,” he suggested.

I looked at the spot the store sat, remembering when I had awakened sometime after the accident, I could only open my right eye. A friend’s mother was over me saying something but either I could not hear her or maybe did not recall what she was saying. I felt numb all over and tilted up my head. She pushed my head back down holding me still but not before I had had a brief glimpse. Most of my left sides were covered in blood and bent in odd angles. I looked back over to her, seeing one of her hands covered in blood and wondering where she had gotten it. Things went dark until I came to later in the hospital.

Standing there, I thought about the hospitalizations, the surgeries but mostly the many months of healing, rehabilitation and learning to walk all over again. My biggest memory was the pain; it was always there. Some worse than others but it was many months before it crept out of my body.

I don’t feel comfortable going across,” I informed the doctor.

I know you don’t; that’s why I am here. I can help you,” he assured me. “But,” he continued, “it’s going to take a lot of courage and trust from you.”

I knew he was talking about surgery but could not fathom what he would be removing that would help me.

What needs to be done?” I asked.

You’ll need to be castrated,” he responded.

In shock, I looked at him hoping he was joking. He looked back at me sternly.

It’s the only way I can help you,” he said. “The removal is only for a short time and when things are reattached, you will be much better.”

I looked back to the store and all the memories of that day many years ago. I wanted to get to the store. However, fear overrode any of those wants, but I knew the doctor was right. He stepped away from me and toward a parked car. He opened the door and looked back at me.

We need to go now if you want my help,” he said.

I’m not sure, how long I stood there, but eventually I walked over and got in.

My next recall was stepping out of my car from the passenger side. My wife drove me from the hospital back home. I got out and walked down the driveway.

Are you Ok?” she asked.

I’m fine,” I replied. “It’s just a strange feeling not having anything down there,” I added. I was given orders to keep my strength up by walking around and doing my regular activities.

I’m just going to roam around the yard for a while,” I informed her.

I’ll be in the house if you need me,” she said.

She went inside, and I took a few slow walks around the house. I was not in any pain or discomfort; I just could not get over the empty or missing sensation of not having any male parts. My friend and neighbor, Tom came over to check on me.

How long before things can be reattached?” he asked.

Several months before the disease is gone, then a couple more to begin replacing things. The doctor assured me I would be good as new,” I told him.

You think it will be worth it?” he asked.

I believe it will,” I assured him.

Defining the dream;

I am having some anxiety about making more changes with expandurmind.com, because of the effort, time and money they will cost. In the dream my unconscious is the surgeon, someone whom I trust and take advice from.

Dismemberment has many meanings, one of which is the removal of habits. In my case, the habit is a fear which in the dream is a disease. Dissecting it will remove the fear then put things back together to a much better state than before. The surgeon explains the operation to me, in this case the operation is my site, time and money. Dissecting himself convinces me this is a good thing and should ease my tension.

Most of the time a dream crossroad is the decisions we have to make. I am sure a bit of that is true here. However, it is also where my habit of fear started. Through the pain and suffering experienced in my rehabilitation, people did their best to calm my fears. If pain became too much they stopped. If I was afraid of falling out of my wheelchair or not being stable on crutches, I was not pressured. I learned quickly to let fear guide me until it became a habit, keeping me safe and most of the time stopping me from taking unnecessary chances. This fear is valuable to me and not easy to let it go of.

The book store is my mind, and all my ideas sit inside lined on the selves. The store will remain closed until I unlock the doors. Fear keeps me from crossing into that spot. The surgeon still at my side, tells me the only way to make it to the store is through castration.

When it comes to the sexual organs, it’s not always about sex or the organ. A lot of the time it’s about energy, expression or the things we refuse to let go of, such as fear. The surgeon explains that it would only be temporary. If I allow myself to be castrated, “discard the fear” I can move across the street.

Once I get used to living without it, I can have it reattached. I took my surgeons (unconscious’) advice and went through with the castration. My neighbor asks me if it was for the best. I confirm it is, which gives me the answers I sought out. Break the habit and set the fear aside, let it become a tool to use not a habit to guide me.

Check out my website, http://www.williamtcarrolljr.com/

Enantiodromia

Tuesday, October 11, 1994, the first time I encountered, “The Demon”. Since then I have had several experiences with him, all in other lucid dreams, this being the most recent. Although the dream is just over a year old, right around its year anniversary I made two discoveries; 1, Enantiodromia and 2, What or should I say, who “The Demon” is.

“Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” -Carl Jung

Tuesday, February 26, 2013; (Unconscious dreaming)

To avoid traffic, Murphy’s law, and for some chill-out time, I get to work rather early. On occasion I use the time to meditate or grab some shut-eye before work. At 6: 00 a.m. in the morning, my alarm woke me from my nap in the car. Looking in the rear-view mirror I noticed a co-worker’s truck parked behind me. We usually chat in the morning, but since he was not inside I figured he had an early call. I used the time to nap a few more minutes.

After I awoke, I thought, for the second time this morning I decided to get up and get my gear out of the trunk. Still seated in the car I looked around; it was still dark out, and my eyes seemed kind of blurry. Once I got things in focus I glanced into my rear-view mirror and noticed my coworker’s truck gone. It was odd that he had left the parking lot before work and hoped it was nothing bad. Out of my passenger window I saw an excavator. To the east of the excavator sat a pile driver.

These were things that had not been in the parking lot when I arrived. I looked around the rest of the parking lot and realized I was dreaming. Something in the rear-view mirror caught my attention, a was man coming towards me. He was just under six feet tall, white, and around 165 pounds. Although he had work clothes on, they were clean and pressed. His hair, mustache and a well trimmed beard were all black. His facial skin seemed pale and was heavily winkled like that of a strong smoker, but his face held a wide grin.

He was leaning over to his left as he headed toward the back of my car. In his hands, he was carrying a 250-pound headache ball. He held the ball by the hook, the hoisting cable connected to the end and I could trace it back to a crane one hundred feet or more behind him. His strength had to be incredible because the cable was being pulled off the drum of the crane. As he got closer to my car he looked into my rear-view mirror directly into my eyes. He bent down and I could feel something being attached to the rear of my car, I knew it had to be the headache ball.

I swung the door of my car open. Throwing my left leg out, I felt a tightening sensation around my waist and chest. My seat-belt, which I had taken off after I had parked now had me restrained. I reached over to the release button, but it would not let go. I felt the car jerk and heard the click of the ball attach to my car. I growled and forced my way out of the car, the seat-belt stretching out with me. It began wrapping around me trying to engulf my arms.

“This is just a dream!” I yelled out, ripping the seat-belt from the interior of the car. It fell to the ground.

I rushed to the back of my car, to see the man stand up. The headache ball was fastened to the hitch on my car. I reached down to unhook the ball. I struggled briefly with the cable and heard the roar of the cranes engine. Realizing the car would be snatched away at any moment I quickly stepped back. Like an animated cartoon, my car was snatched away and slung into the air by the crane s. It swooped through the air in a 180 degree swing and then embedded into an embankment, all in a blink of an eye.

I looked back at the man noticing that big grin on his face, it was then I knew who he was. This was the demon I had faced three or four times before. He turned to walk away, and I reached out and grabbed his arm. He tried to pull free, but I held fast to him. With my other hand, I grabbed the back of his shirt. We both began to struggle— him trying to break away, me not allowing him. We fell to the ground; I made sure of landing on top. I straddled his waist and pushed my left hand into his chest to hold him down. With my right hand free, I gave him two hard punches to the face, yet he kept his grin.

I swung down harder for a third punch to his face. Just as it was about to make contact he vanished leaving my hand busting through the pavement. I stood up looking at my hand. There was no pain or any sign of injury. I took a look around. My car which had been in the embankment was gone. The crane that had slung it there vanished before me. The other equipment faded away, then the parking lot, leaving me in darkness. I opened my eyes to find myself back in my car.

The first time I heard of Enantiodromia was just recently, near the end of February 2014. I could have gotten answers to all my questions on my demon years before had I placed more time in some dream research. However, better late than never. For the full article on my find and to learn more about Enantiodromia, click over to my website. I also have some new stuff you may be interested in.

Check out my website, http://www.williamtcarrolljr.com/

A Well Worn Path

“Prayer is speaking to God, meditation is listening to God.”-

Anonymous

I don’t spend a lot of time on my knees asking for guidance. Most of the time it’s when I am out and about as part of multitasking. I usually get most of my prayer questions received as answers in dreams. I have read where some mystics talk directly to God in their meditations or dreams. I believe God is talking to me in some of mine. However, instead of spelling it all out to me, he throws out the letters in the form of dreams. It’s up to me to place it all in order.

“Paths” are usually his biggest hint that a dream is from him, and if I want the answer, figure it out. Once again, I am going to make some changes in my on-line journal. One of those changes will be posting every two weeks. Rushing in order to get a post in each week is taking away from the quality of my writing. I also have some other big changes in store.

The following dream not only shows me I am on the right path but leads me in a direction I was hoping to go, I’ll keep you posted.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014; ( Unconscious dreaming)

I was standing on a worn dirt path, some sixty or more feet wide. The path was pitted with deep pot holes. The holes were all roughly the same size and depth resembling giant foot prints. I could not imagine what kind of creature would have such large paws. I tried to recall how I had gotten here, but my mind was a total blank beyond the time I had arrived.

Nothing seemed to exist in my mind, including who I was. A noise caught my attention, and I looked down the path. It curved off to the left disappearing into the woods. The noise was like that of a horse quickly exhaling but far deeper and louder. Several deeper exhales came through the trees, some echoing over each other. I began to see movement in the form of large gray patches showing from the openings in the pines, soon moving out from the trees into the opening.

Many yards away stepped out a Tyrannosaurus. It stretched its head high into the air and sniffed, exhaling loudly. Its head swung from side to side as if trying to locate some smell. From the trees behind him walked out four more. The group stopped behind the one in front. None were looking at me, just yet. I stood motionless.

“Shh…” came a sound in my ear, and a hand rested softly on my right shoulder.

“Remain quiet and follow me, slowly but do not put your back to them,” the whispered voice directed me. The hand on my shoulder urged me back, and I walked backward never taking my eyes of the herd of Tyrannosaurus’. Moving off the path and leading me behind some trees, the person, a man, motioned me with his finger to follow him.

We walked softly through the woods, picking up our pace further away from the dinosaurs, although we never ran. After a while, we stepped out into a small western looking town.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Libertarian square,” he said.

Since my worries about being eaten had gone once we came into the town, I finally got a good look at the man who had rescued me. Since I did not know who I was or what I even looked like, I had no idea that my rescuer was me.

“How did you find us? “ he asked.

“I don’t know. My only recall of anything is when I found myself on the path out there,” I informed him.

“No worries, you can stay here as long as you like,” he told me.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“We’re a libertarian community. There are several dozens of us living off the land throughout here.” He waved his arm out over the city toward sparsely open fields in the distance. I saw homes and crops surrounding to just past the edge of the town.

“But what about the dinosaurs?” I wondered.

“They rarely bother us,” he said.

“Seems they would be coming to the town seeing how there are people around to munch on,” I mentioned.

“This used to be their land; however, once we established ourselves here, most of the larger wildlife moved deeper into the woods,” he explained. “The Tyrannosaurus are really dumb. We can hear them stomping through the woods toward us. We then go inside and remain quiet. Once the things see there is nothing here, they go back to the path.”

“Do they stay on the path?” I asked.

“Yes. It works out pretty well for all of us. You see; they made the path which surrounds us for miles. They cannot catch the wildlife through the outer forest. So, what happens is the wildlife sneak over the path at night to feed in our fields. In the morning, they rush off. As they cross the path in the daytime, the dinosaurs catch and eat them.”

“That’s pretty awesome,” I said. “But does anyone ever leave here?”

“Sure, some of us. When we need things we can’t grow or make here. Other then that, it’s very peaceful and fulfilling.”

I followed him up to the dirt street that ran between the buildings of his town. We passed a couple which he did not point out until we were almost in the center.

“That’s our general store,” he said pointing to our right at a wide building. His hand swung to the left at another building. People were going inside along with the man I was with. I followed him up to the steps inside.

“This is our town hall,” he said. “We hold all our meetings here.”

The interior had an old rugged but clean look to it. The main room was bright with electric lights running in rows down the ceiling.

“You have electricity?” I asked.

“Everything is solar,” he replied.

I followed him to the center of the room where we took seats. There were less than a dozen people inside and a woman with thick curly blond hair sat in front of me.

“What is going on here?” I asked.

“Whenever someone new arrives, we have a town meeting. Since we have a potential for growth in the community, we need to make adjustments.”

“Adjustments to what?”

“Wherever needed to make sure the community’s quality of life stays on the right path. This way, our longevity is guaranteed.”

There was a man up in the front standing at a podium. I could not hear what he said but when he finished talking, the woman in front of me stood and faced us. She was in her late thirties or early forties and stood perhaps five-eight or five-nine feet tall. Her polite gaze was directed to me.

“Everyone here has a voice because everyone is part of the whole community. We all have something to offer,” she smiled and sat back down.

I thought about what she said, and I had said moments ago about the community’s quality of life. Then a thought came to me, was it, me or the man who had made the comment? I looked to the left of me, and he was gone. To the right of me, the man I had found on the path also was gone. I then realized I had been both. Things around me went dark, and I realized I was in my room awake.

***

Path
To walk through an open path in your dream signifies clarity of thought and peace of mind. It also symbolizes your progress. (This would have to do with the path I want to take my website.)

To see a blocked path in your dream denotes that you need to give serious attention to the direction you are heading in your personal and/or business life. You need to take time out to consider and rethink the consequences before acting on your choices. (I took the two weeks since my last post and decided I could give more quality work if I reduced my postings to every other week.)

Potholes

To see a pothole in your dream represents difficulties and setbacks in achieving your goals. You need to make some changes in how you approach your goals. (To me this backs up my decision on posting every other week. giving me more time to dedicate to my online journal.)

Tyrannosaurus-Rex

To see tyrannosaurus-Rex in your dream symbolizes your biggest fears.

(Reading the dream correctly I believe this is all pointing at my blog and the direction I want to take it.)

Five

Five in a dream has a lot of representations; persuasiveness, humanity, senses, a link between heaven and earth and a few others. One that best fits the dream would be, “a change in your path or a need to alter course.” I took the altering course since that is what I did on the path. I’ll also throw in a small part of, “a link between heaven and earth. Mainly to emphasize a message being sent to me.

Yourself
To see yourself in your dream is a reflection of how you act and behave in your waking life. Consider what you are doing and how you are feeling in the dream for additional significance. (In the dream I am helping someone in need or more to the point, looking for answers. This points to aonther avenue I want to my journal down.)

Community
To have a sense of community in your dream means that you need to nurture your relationships with your family/friends and develop new ties. Perhaps you need to look at expanding your network of friends. (When it comes to the dream as a whole, I look at the community; friends/family as my readers. The need to develop new ties.)