19 Apr 2011 The Man Who Was All Head

05:15 am. I’ve been having a long somewhat discontinuous dream for a significant portion of the night, or so it seems. It started out with me being with a three or four business associates on a business trip. Evidently we were in Madera, California. We all lived in Chowchilla (where I grew up), just fifteen miles away, but we planned to spend the night in Madera, for some reason. We were in a bar having a good time. One of the men, and I believe we were all engineers, was wondering if he should go out with a certain woman he’d been hooking up with. I couldn’t understand his problem. I asked him if he really cared about her, and he said that he did. I told him that he should definitely go with her. But then I asked him if he was married because I saw his ring finger, and even though he wasn’t wearing a ring, it looked as if I could see a depression that indicated he usually did wear one. He said that, yes, he was married. And then I told him that he definitely should not go with the woman. I said that we were only fifteen miles from his family, and that surely someone in Madera would know some one in Chowchilla who would know his wife. He’d get caught. But more than that, he just shouldn’t do that to his wife. I asked him if he had kids, and he said that he had three little girls.

At this point in the dream, I’m not sure if I woke or was still dreaming. It seems that I was both dreaming and using Active Imagination. I’m beginning to lose the ability to know the difference.  Anyway, I started giving the man advice concerning his marriage, that he should go home, devote himself to his wife, and little girls and forget this other woman. I told him to think about his little girls, to read to them at night and devote himself to their education.

At this point, I seemed to go completely back into the dream state, but now I was the man with the wife and the little girls. I had started devoting myself to the girls, and I asked my wife to make a choice. Evidently, she’d been seeing another man, or perhaps it was just that she was devoting all her energy to her job. I told her she’d needed to make a choice between her family and whatever else was going on in her life. I seemed to be experiencing this dream both as action and narrative summary, a mixture of each, a rather curious mixture of each, but the narrative summary was summary action, if that makes any sense. I was spending all my time with the girls. I don’t know what had happened to my job or even if I had one at this point. But I was homeschooling the girls. The girls were hazy characters. I don’t know their ages, just that they were these ghostlike children hovering in my presence, all dressed in white, laced, fluffy dresses.

The scene then shifted, and my wife and I were the curators of a museum. Our girls were there with us, although she was in a different part of the museum. The girls were close by, perhaps playing within the museum halls. Several patrons were milling about looking at artifacts. It was an archaeological museum, and my wife and I were archaeologists. One part of the exhibit consisted of a small three-sided room or cubicle. The walls were from an ancient dig but were made of either metal or stone, not sure which, maybe both. The walls contained round holes depressed part way into the walls, several on a side, as if a pole used to span the width of the room, pressing against opposite walls. But what had caught my eye was a little man looking around inside the ancient cubicle. He was the strangest person I’ve ever seen. He was no more than one foot tall, with tiny arms and legs, if he had any at all. He was all head, which was round with almost no hair. He looked artificial, as if made out of glass with deep rich colors. I realized that he was of Native American stock and from South America. He was impressed with the exhibit, mesmerized by the ancient artifacts. I stopped and talked to him for a few moments. He spoke broken English, and he was interested in the artifacts because his ancestors had made them. I asked him where he was from, and he gave me the name of a town, which I can no longer remember. I asked if that was close to Mexico City, and he said yes.

At this point the dream ended.

08:00 am. This morning I woke and while still in the twilight or glow of the sleep state, I tried a little Active Imagination. I was looking for images, as I usually do. My psyche was quite active. Though my room was well lit by sunlight coming in through my bedroom window, I had on my daytime sleep mask. I started seeing a sequence of unconnected images. Some of them were of room, some of faces, some alive, some still lifes. This kept up for perhaps a half hour. The images seemed to be without story content, if as I was seeing a sequence of images that had no story or emotional content. The closer I looked at an image, the more detail I could see at first, but if I tried to see too much detail, the image would evaporate before my eyes. The images were vivid. They were not imagined images as in daydreaming, but images as stark as they would be if I had my eyes open during daytime wakefulness. I’ve experienced this before but never for such a long period of time. This is much different that Active Imagination in the forced state. It is a combination of Active Imagination and the dream state. I have no control over the subject matter as I do with Active Imagination. With Active Imagination I actively force the scenario although it can acquire autonomy and seem to progress on its own with me playing an active part. These images are totally out of my control, but I actively pursue them. I make my mind available to the Unconscious. These images are mostly lifeless, although I did see one image of a girl in which she was moving and smiling. It was just of her face. She was quite cute. If I let the images alone, don’t try to see too much detail, they seem to stick around longer than if I try to concentrate too hard on them. The more I try to hold them, the sooner they disappear.

Yet, all of it is quite impressive.

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