Lions, Dog-Catchers, and Cars, Oh, My!

Yep, you guessed it.
I had another lion dream last night.

This time, it started out in the day, with an vaguely unidentifiable friend and I driving around Portland/LA. Traffic abounded, and we were lost. Eventually, we came to the abrupt end of an overpass at the outskirts of town that looked over a bunch of dilapidated streets and highways that had sunken into a desert. We decided to stay there for the night and do some quality stargazing. A bunch of frantic but slapstick stuff happened then that I barely, fuzzily recall. A lion was involved, and other people.

*flicker*

Somehow, I got back to my hometown. I decided to walk home from the library, but took an unfamiliar route, passing through some sketchy neighborhoods. The late afternoon waned into nighttime. I saw a lion meandering around down a side street and picked up my pace, making it home in time to warn my dad, who was doing yard work, of the lion's presence. Its lazy tracking became chasing, and my dad and I only had time to lock ourselves in his truck outside the house. We stayed there quite a while until the lion had got bored lurking around the truck and surrounding houses and wandered farther down the block. We ran into the house, the lion noticing and chasing us to the door. So we called the police, who didn't know what to do (lions are, after all, quite rare in these parts). Optionless, they called in the dog-catchers, who took forever. In fact, we were stuck inside the house until the next afternoon. The lion paced around the house relentlessly. It didn't speak.

The dog-catchers finally arrived with some sort of tranquilizers. Unfortunately, they were made for dogs, not big cats, so they just subdued the lion without knocking it out. The lion then slurred out something like, "All I wanted was a car ride."


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I had another chasing dream, but this one involved three friends from school and I fleeing human chasers (one hooded in black, a la LOTR, one a normal young chap). It started at some sort of gathering which was crashed by these evil chasers who were trying to get rid of all of us (not kill, just vaguely "get rid of"). Some of the people at the gathering were from school, some from camp, some from nowhere identifiable. Anyway, three friends and I escaped by jumping into someone's Mustang and sneaking away while the chasers chased other people. The two aforementioned chasers tracked us, though, and what followed was an elaborate series of clever, desperate, and sometimes ridiculous escapades involving a lot of driving; crowded airports; windy, mountain roads; long, deserted highways; luxurious, pink hotels; and dingy restaurant/gas stations.

My favorite trick we attempted was hiding in waist-deep pool of water surrounded by lawn decorations and brightly colored flora until the chasers passed in their blue/black/purple car (the color changed throughout the dream, like a bruise) passed us on the nearby highway, once again located outside of Portland. I thought it was brilliantly clever and cinematic, but my friends complained about the chilly water and their new shoes. Eventually, we met the two chasers in the airport, where the young chap explained they didn't like being chasers, but the hooded fellow had a bad case of indigestion during which he lost all control of his mind and joined the truly evil chasers. The young chap had been trying to tell us all along.

Interestingly, this dream happened twice in a row, like an immediate recurrence. I don't remember the first time as well, but it didn't turn out so well. Interestingly, we were aware of that within the dream, and the first experience came in handy. "Remember what happened when we tried that last time?" one of us would say ominously. So we chose a different path, and that made all the difference.

Lions & Jaguars Rampant

Last night, I had a vivid dream that possessed three main elements:
1. Chasing
2. Church people
3. Camp

Synopsis: Big cats (primarily lions, with a few tigers and jaguars) chase me and other people (primarily from church) around the camp I attended through junior/high school.

This is notable because for the first time I recall, my dream mostly consisted of things I had recently and consciously been thinking about to some extent. While I don't agree with a lot of dream interpretation, I think dreaming is a powerful realm of the unconscious and is a tool of problem solving. The latent content of this dream seems fairly obvious to me, based on the struggles I've had lately.

Usually, though, my dreams involving wild animals/chasing seem far fetched and unrelated to my conscious life (like the the only other lion-ish dream I recall having), more like adventure-horror films than stuff of significance. The other vivid wild animal/chasing dreams I remember from the last few years:

### Giant komodo dragons chase me from downtown to my neighborhood, where I and a few imaginary neighbors go to elaborate lengths to escape the lizards of unusual size by climbing fences, telephone poles, and rooftops. The komodo dragons could talk.

### Oversized nutria (a species prevalent around my Oregon college) chase me around a semblance of my campus, where I take shelter in the academic center. An imaginary professor, who happens to personally know the English-speaking nutria king, takes me to make negotiations with the talking R.O.U.S. Unfortunately, the nutria king cannot control his subjects, who continue to attack my peers and professors on campus and around town. Most of the dream takes place at night, which is an unfamiliar dreamscape for me.

### A wolfish beast chases my roommate around, trying to seduce her to marry him. Entranced, she agrees to meet him that night, when they will run away. Somehow, a few random personalities from my campus and I find out about the wolf. Then we discover his nefarious intentions to kill her. So we finally find my roommate, lock her in a boys' dorm, then set out to find the wolf, who tries to get into the dorm. Think Beauty and the Beast meets Phantom of the Opera meets Lady in the Water. Yes, the wolf could talk. (This also partially takes place at night; interestingly, I can only remember three dreams, including these two, that involve the dark. I've had all of them in the last six months.)

I also had an interesting dream this last semester that took place in my hometown. It involved leaf-zombies invading. (No, I didn't know what leaf-zombies were before this dream, either. They are vague human-like creatures that lay in wait as piles of leaves in street gutters until they swirl up into their humanoid form.) I was at Sharis, across town from my house, with some friends. When the televisions informed us of the invasion and warned us of innocent-looking leaf piles, we set out in a friend's car to get away, but I insisted on going home to warn my family. Somehow, I managed to get halfway across town without being eaten (er, consumed by a pile of leaves...it's an odd, non-violent way to die, I guess) by the leaf-zombies, although I saw several other people eaten. I met a nice older fellow behind Walgreens, who gave me a magic dollar bill (yes, you read that right) which would protect me from the autumnal creatures before he sacrificed himself to the leaf-zombie lurking behind the drugstore so I could proceed. With the magic dollar bill, I made it home safely and tried to convince my parents we could escape to the country with my pecuniary protection, but they told me to calm down and continued reading the paper. Talk about an anti-climax.

Interestingly, the third dream involving nighttime also involved a few people from college, as well as the building of my old church. And a dark forest, which I've never dreamt about before. And a human antagonist, instead of animal--a thief/possibly murderer type who broke into the church and then chased my friends into the forest, where I followed, looking for some imaginary child. I'm sure there's some sort of meaning there, particularly with the darkness-college connection, but it isn't an obvious one. I can't think of any significant problems that relate specifically to college or the people there; in fact, I love the community there, and it's fairly isolated from the problems of the world, personally and globally. So maybe it represents something, but I do not know what. I'm a journalist, not a psychologist.

So...Am I Dead Yet?

Another dream. This is, perhaps, the strangest I've had, not because of its spontaneity but it's complete absurdity. Now, I have never watched Chucky or the Bride of Chucky (there is a movie by that name, right?), but said bride appeared in--and indeed, starred in--my dream last night. She was a freaky looking, red haired doll who came "alive" after dark and committed heinous crimes, mostly killing people. The details are very scratchy, but I know for some reason, the doll would choose a family to be "loyal" to for twenty years, staying close to them at all times, apparently trying to kill them (no, that doesn't make sense to me, either). And--lucky us!--it chose my family! (You didn't see that one coming, eh?) Anyway, we decide there must be good in this demented doll and want to try to save it somehow (I don't remember how we thought we would do this, but we were convinced). The sequence of events is very vague (I think it was rather haphazard in the dream, as well), but I know we began at our house, went into our neighbor's house down the street (it was at night and we were trying to escape being killed); we also repeatedly went to a gas station on a road in a forest in a canyon. Said canyon forest road is a recurring setting in my dreams. Anyway, we eventually gave up all hope for any remaining goodness in the murder-prone doll (incidentally, we kept it from killing anyone while she was being "loyal" to us, although there was blood on occasion, though I know not what the source was...) and left it in a thrift store on a bright morning, hoping we could get far enough away before it came "alive" that evening that it couldn't find us. It did. So, we tried to "kill" it. I think there was an axe involved. It didn't work. Then we were back at the gas station, and something happened there, and someone ended up dead, but whether it was me, someone I know, or the doll, I can't remember. Needless to say, it was quite the strange reverie. If I had recently seen some horror movie, or watched a lot of them in my life, I might expect this sort of dreammare. But I haven't, and am rather perplexed as to the source of it all.

Interestingly, as I was relating this to Aunt Bee earlier, I mentioned my favorite part of dreaming is when I land--like, after falling. I don't especially like the sensation, but I am intrigued by the mystery of the subconscious and its ability to project experiences apart from motion or memory, and this is the greatest example. My mother promptly expressed her surprise, since there has, apparently, been much speculation about what would happen if one landed in a dream, a common assumption being that the dreamer would die. As I immediately checked my pulse (and have done so repeatedly since), I'm quite certain that I am, in fact, still alive. I didn't know the sensation of landing was so exceptional, even unheardof. Eh, it's a shame really. It seems to me that falling without landing would be the worse experience. If the fall has no conclusion, when do you wake up? I hate that weightless, drifting, uncontrollable illusion; the shock is much more tangible. And I can never recall what occurred before falling (although it's never a very long distance, just a few stories high or what not), only the impact, and the awakening. Eh, who knows...

Of Dreams and Driving

Since we're on the topic of dreams (well, two posts ago)...

Since as far back as I can remember, I've had recurring dreams about losing control of a vehicle while driving. (I suppose these should properly be called nightmares, but I don't consider them as such.) Most of them followed the same pattern: I, the unlicensed passenger, am sitting behind the wheel while the driver leaves the car running, and sometimes in gear (more times than not, it just shifts unexpectedly and inexplicably). The car (it was always the old, navy Celebrity we used to have) begins to move forward and I can only steer and hope to evade other cars and stop signs as I can't stop the car, only slow down. Or, sometimes, the brakes have gone out completely. I usually crashed into the nearest non-fatal looking object I could find after a long, relatively uncontrolled escapade through town.

The last dreammare I had like this was late this spring, before I began driver's ed. It was much more detailed than most of the others, set in particular (high-traffic) streets, with police following and no brakes. I ended up practically crawling back to Fred Meyers where I had left my parents with the police trailing close behind, the sky black against the parking lot lights. The car ran out of gas just before I crashed into the building. It was quite depressing, really.

Since I started driving, I haven't experienced any more of these dreammares, which I'm glad of. There was a point when this subconscious fear became almost wholly irrational. I remember last fall, my friend left her car door open as she went to go inside to grab something; I went to sit down behind the wheel because of the chilly day, had a flashback to my latest dream, and nearly screamed. It was ridiculous. My parents remain firm, however, that I am not blocking any memories from a traumatic childhood car ride. I don't really think I am, either, but it would certainly make a good Dear Abby letter.

"Dear Abby,
My parents have hidden a terrible secret from me my entire life. When I was three and a half, we went out for a nice Sunday afternoon drive. Then the brakes went out, and..."

Eh, oh well. Abby receives enough mail, I suppose.

I had a dream...

Well, I actually went back to school today. Not that there was reason to, since we did basically nothing in class. It made for good letter- and song-writing time, though.

Last night (actually, it was closer to this morning) I had a very drawn-out and vivid dream. It was connected, yet very random. It started with the Autodaughters and I (my family might have been there, but I don't remember them) heading to the hills to look for a Christmas tree. I don't recall anything particular, but we meandered about for awhile.

*flicker* (I'm stealing this from Qalmlea)

We were walking down a certain country road toward the canyon, past a stop sign Beth inadvertently blew through once. Now we were part of a large migration of people, mostly Jews (similar to the final scene of Fiddler on the Roof, set locally), and we were all going to the canyon for a Passover celebration that was, for some unexplained reason, unusually important. We got halfway down the road to the canyon when my aunt and I realized we had to go back to my house (again, unexplained). So we turned back.

*flicker*

Following the same road back, it suddenly became a corn maze and my aunt became a dark-haired girl who plays on my friend's basketball team. And the girl was wearing a patterned head scarf. We walked straight for some time, then finally took a side path.

The walk was long, with scattered conversation about the urgency of our return to the canyon. But we had to get back to my house before doing so. So we walked and walked my sense of direction was nothing but a memory. This was all very vague and tiresome.

*flicker*

This is where the dream became quite vivid. Along the pathway we were wandering on, we passed a mountain lion sleeping in the entrance of a path leading in a different direction in the maze. I saw it and my stomach clenched, but I'm certain my companion didn't notice it; she didn't respond, regardless. We walked on, and on, and it began to snow lightly. Now we were in a generic country setting, altogether unfamiliar. I think it was at this point that I became vaguely aware that I was Laura Ingles Wilder, and I had to get home before the blizzard came.

*flicker*

There are voices of children in the distance; they are, perhaps quite close, but the corn has grown taller than our heads and we can't see anything but the pathway ahead. Again, we pass a mountain lion. This time, the girl notices and nearly screams but bites her lip, grabs my hand, and continues walking. We haven't gone far when we hear the lion stir and the children scream. There is a fence ahead, and the snow is deep on the other side. We start to run; I glance back and the children are also running toward the fence. We can see a house in the near distance now. Once we are over the fence and onto the snow, we find we can run on top of it without sinking; the mountain lion cannot. Undefeated, it turns around and heads toward a road that leads to the house.

*flicker*

We are on said road now, having left the children in the house, and walking inside a fence-like enclosure set up to protect the villagers from the lion, which apparently has quite a reputation. I am not Laura anymore, nor am I myself. The head-scarfed girl is still beside me, and we are aiming for something that exists on the other side of the village entrance. Home is out there somewhere. So we walk, passing bearded blacksmiths, farmers in checked shirts, and children in dirty, pioneer-era clothes. It is a poor village, but the people seem content except for the lingering fear and suspicion etched into their faces. Several times, we see men on the fence shooting tranquilizers at the cat outside the fortification. We finally reach the entrance and there has been no sign of the lion for several hours. So, the chubby blonde girl in dirty over-alls on watch unbars the gate, but we never leave because we hear a scrimmage at one of the other gates. The lion has entered the town because the little boy set as sentry didn't lock it right. Thus begins a long and bloody battle to kill the mountain lion; the dark-haired girl and I run about with the gate-keeping blonde, trying to avoid the lion and get the children into safe places. We jump fences and run through houses, but it is nigh-on impossible to escape the rampaging lion. Nearly everyone is injured by the end of the ordeal, but it eventually limps away from the village, mortally wounded. My companion and I understand that our mission--the mission we didn't know we had--is accomplished and we walk through the gate into the great beyond...

Then I wake up.

Generally, when I have a dream this long, I alternately participate in the dream and watch it on a theater-like screen. I never left this dream. I was never a third party. That's quite unusual. Anyway, it's getting late and I had best get some sleep, and perhaps it shall once again be dream-filled.

Attack of the Lizats

I am working on my debate final but feel the inclination to stop and record a dream that's bugging me before I forget it. I think it's connected to Surface, which my mom was watching last night. It is also somewhat reminiscent of the Jurassic Park movies and King Kong.
Our cat, Zowi, had mutated into a furry, lizard-like creature. She bit but purred, making her a lovable antagonist. She also had rather sharp talons, and climbed an enormous tree that sprouted out of our house, through the roof, reaching toward the sun; there was some ground, jungle-like foliage scattered around the house as well. The sky was an unnatural, murky brownish-gray. Suddenly, there were several creatures on the tree, and more coming from beneath our house, climbing the tree's knobby roots. I lost track of Zowi, but decided to name one of the lizats I especially liked Joey. I then simultaneously chased after and ran away from Joey and his fellow lizats, baiting traps with the help of generic people who were helping me fight the biting creatures. I asked Joey why they bit us, and he said something about compulsion (yes, Joey and the other lizats could communicate with us). Throughout the dream, the house faded into an all-out jungle, with the humans working to evade and capture the creatures; we remained steadfastly hesitant to kill them, however, as they were so darn lovable.