Having moved our things from Arizona to Missouri, and having setup internet service, I'm reading to hopefully resume gopher activity. I've been keeping up somewhat using DiggieDog for Android, but no client is quite as streamlined as vf1[1]. It's nice to have a proper setup again. Perhaps I'll get a domain setup here at home as well. I used to have jozhaus.com pointed at an old acer laptop running motsognir[2]. I'm attempting to participate on several gopher servers already, so it might be redundant... but, it might be fun as well. Last night I had a lucid dream[3]. Actually, my whole dream experience last night was notable and very odd feeling. I think it was one of the oddest nights of dreams that I've ever had. I've had lucid dreams before, but not frequently and not recently. It seems like any time I attempt to describe a dream, it comes across as exactly mundane. Still, it felt interesting, and so I'll try to convey that. First, a bit of background: I have a son who sometimes has difficultly sleeping. His mind is constantly active, and sometimes he wakes up at 3am and is too wired to go back to sleep. Frequently, his imagination gets the better of him, and he'll come into our bedroom to let us know he's having a hard time. As a result, I sometimes get into a sleep pattern where my mind and body are expecting to wake up at 3am and then fall back asleep. It's not pleasant. It does seem to increase dreaming in general. This past week has been a semi-interrupted one. To mix things up, I flopped down on my bed yesterday afternoon, exhausted from moving, and took a three hour nap. I went to bed at the same time as usual that evening. The stage was set. My body and mind were going to be ready to wake up at 3am, and I'd have the right amount of sleep already, so getting back to sleep would be difficult or impossible. I was prepared, and my son did wake up, but instead of coming in and interrupting us, he just sat up reading a Brandon Mull book. At around 3am this morning my sleep became fitful. I was, in the balance of things, oversleeping. Oversleeping, for me at least, also increases dreaming. (as an aside, my Swedish grandmother, who we called "Mormor," always used to tell me to eat cheese before bed if I wanted to have dreams. I don't know if it works, but she must have planted the idea in my mind at just the right age, because I can't help believing it is true. I love cheese, so I like to test the theory from time to time. I always forget to remember if it worked by morning.) I began to dream that I was sleeping in bed fitfully, and that I was waking up repeatedly. It was a dream bedroom, nothing like my own, but the bed itself was exactly like the one I was actually sleeping in. I'd wake up, it would be dark out, and I'd try to go back to sleep. Eventually, after falling back asleep in my dream, I began to dream that I was at a rest area[4] on a highway somewhere. There were high mountains all around me. The rest area was beautiful, and it was "crepuscule"[5]. I like that word better than "twilight," but I like the actual time of day better than both words. I woke up from this dream in the dream bedroom, frustrated that I was waking up so much. I tossed about and fell back asleep, in my dream. I was on some kind of hill, above the rest area. There was a rocky circular outcropping, with a metal grating deck built up and a fire pit in the middle. The flames and coals were more colorful, with a lot more pinks, than usual. Some kind of building was attached to the outcropping, as if it were a deck of some kind. Over the rocks I could see the rest area below. The sun was almost set. And then I realized that I was dreaming. I told myself that I was dreaming. Often, right at this point of realizing that I'm dreaming, I drag myself out of my sleep involuntarily. It's a specific feeling, like I'm dragging myself back from a brink or over a great distance all at once. I told myself again, expecting that I'd wake up from the realization, but I did not. I walked into the building through sliding glass doors. It was poorly lit. Inside, there was a man who wanted to talk to me. He had short blonde hair, and was wearing dark clothes; but I wouldn't let him talk. Instead- even though I was afraid of how he would react- I told him that this was a dream, that I was dreaming. He seemed put off by this. I can't recall if he said anything. I think he did, but I don't know what. I turned and walked out of the door and onto a path in the woods. The woods were like the woods in northeastern Arizona. They were dry, without much undergrowth, with ponderosa pines all around on both sides. After walking a very short way, I saw a wolf in front of me on the right. It was stopped, and it was looking at me. It was a sickly, emaciated, crippled looking wolf, with light brown, almost tan fur. It was not at all threatening. The wolf scampered on ahead of me as I walked, and I thought to myself "that is a sick wolf, I'm going to heal it." I knew that this was my dream, and I felt like I could do what I wanted to a degree. The wolf healed, and ran off to the left, into the trees. I could see it rejoin its family. It wasn't a pack, it was a mother and children. I then turned toward the trail, and in front of me a ways I could see a pack of wolves running. Their fur looked like a matte of dried ponderosa needles. If you've never seen ponderosa needles, they are long and brown and come in clumps, almost like the old bristles they would use on brooms. They had a fascinating color and texture. I turned around to walk back to the building, and I saw a gnarled old tree. As I followed it upward with my eyes, I thought that I would fly- this was my dream, and it sounded fun. I climbed up the gnarled tree a ways and considered how I would start flying. I have flown plenty of times in dreams, and when I do it just happens. It feels natural and just happens, I don't ever recall thinking about how it's done. But this time, I was thinking about how I could fly, and I really couldn't figure it out. At that point, I decided that I would wake myself up from this dream. But, I didn't wake up in my room, I woke up again into my dream bedroom. My bed was there, but my room was wrong. And then it hit me that I was still actually dreaming, and I dragged myself into real consciousness. If it had just been a dream about wolves and rest areas and pink fires, I don't think I would have shared the dream. But the dream-inside-a-dream aspect was new for me. I've seen Inception[6] of course, and I actually relate with some of the dream patterns that they describe in there (in a less melodramatic way), but I've never had any sort of nested dreams. I mentioned the "feeling" of the dream, and this is where my experience is wholly different from "Inception." In the movie, the main character is increasingly incapable of distinguishing between dream and reality. He is so fearful that he carries a "totem" to test whether he is awake or asleep, and is ready to shoot himself in the head to end a dream that he is not in control of. For me, dreams feel real enough when I'm in them, but upon waking there is such a pure difference between life and imagination that I can't fathom how anyone could ever accept the counterfeit. Being that last night's dream was, in part, a lucid one- and more lucid and lengthy than I've had before- I thought that perhaps I would have a more vivid memory of it, or that it would have a more appealing residual memory. It didn't. It was, in the end, just a dream that I was in partial control of. Some people pursue lucid dreaming, but I'm not sure I see the appeal. As I dream frequently (non-lucid), I am curious about dreams, and I would love to hear what gopherspace has to say on the subject. [1] gopher://circumlunar.space:70/0/~solderpunk/files/vf1.py [2] gopher://gopher.viste-family.net:70/1/projects/motsognir/ [3] gopher://gopherpedia.com:70/0/Lucid dream [4] gopher://gopherpedia.com:70/0/Rest area [5] gopher://gopherpedia.com:70/0/Crépuscule [6] gopher://gopherpedia.com:70/0/Inception