I just woke from a fifteen minute nap.
dream:
I was driving my car. I pulled over to take a nap (go figure). When I awoke I was not in my car but in the back of a sedan with a gray interior. I kept thinking it was a Buick. A largish Caucasian man with perfectly regular strawberry blonde hair and roundish in features (think Phillip Seymour Hoffman but more plain) got into the driver’s seat. I said loudly and sternly, “Who are you,” and “who’s there?” He did not answer me ever. I didn’t get out of the backseat because I still believed myself to be in my own car and this man was in my driver’s seat. I said again, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” He did not respond. I saw the rearview mirror. I became somewhat lucid and remembered that I could tell him what to do rather than ask, and I wanted a “message”
I said, “Yes. That’s right. Look into the rearview and tell me who you are!” We both seemed to know that this was how this game was played. I saw him reach into his jacket breast pocket. “Yes! Yes! That’s it Mister, Reach in and get out that envelope with the message. Give me the message.” He pulled out a scrap piece of paper folded about the size of a receipt and gave it to me by folding his right arm and passing it back over his right shoulder. He never turned around. But I remember seeing a smiling automatonesque face smiling back at me from the mirror. I pushed his head forward for some reason.
I then saw his two eyes appear at the base of his skull looking back at me.
Now that I had the message I was doing everything I could to remember it. I was partially lucid so I thought by writing this dream message down again I was writing it in the real world, and that when I looked again for it, it would be there for me to read. I would love to see what my handwriting looks like, if I learn to write in my sleep.
Here’s what I got:
Message number one said something about 26 controls, of which there were “16 human breath controls” I remember that phrase distinctly. Message number two I currently cannot remember although I do remember reading it, and thinking it was simpler than message one. This message looked liked notes he’d taken down in a hurry. Maybe it was an idea he had? Or just the pieces of information he’d managed to capture during some observation that were of notice to him. Perhaps he found himself the victim of a car-jacking and been in the same position I was to be taking notes. I remember trying to write it down on paper that may have come from a torn envelope, yet my writing there was totally unitelligible, probably because I was scribbling on paper on a Buick rear bench seat in a panicked hurry because I believed I was receiving otherworldly messages.
From now on I’ll be opening doors and asking people for their messages.
Perhaps the dreamer tells you that you are both of the characters in your dream: the passenger in the back seat, and the driver who won’t turn around and look at you, yet has a message for you. Don’t know about the numbers. The message is relationally based; you must talk to someone, if not yourself, to tell you the message. I’m a big believer that dreams are related to something that is going on in your conscious, waking life, waiting to be entered and resolved.
For some reason this entry from a while back gave me the urge to tell you that the next massage I give you we should try some subtle (or not-so-subtle) energy work on you (Polarity Therapy, Foot Reflexology or Shiatsu, most likely). That’s what I thought of when I read the phrase “Sixteen Human Breath Controls”. Don’t ask me why. . . maybe it was my version of otherworldly messages.
And also, what Imei says.