Dream Journal (abridged) - October

Indian Assassin Getaway

I am an assassin in India, escaping on a three-person bike with the two Indian men on my team. We have just completed a job and are escaping. Looking back as we peddle furiously on our bike, I watch as the townspeople chase us down the street. Getting away now, going down a steep hill, one of my accomplices says to the other, "why are we going this way?", to which he replies "because of this", and gestures as the ocean comes into view at the bottom of the hill, a cove with huge rolling waves. We ditch the bike on the muddy beach and head toward our canoe and stashed gear, ready to complete the getaway.

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Desert Mountain Landscape at Night

Night time, I am on a mountainside in New Mexico. Moonlight creates a bright contrast across the rocky landscape, as I come out of the mountain retreat house to take a photograph. But, the moon sets before I can, and all is in darkness. However, my glasses reflect a small amount of light onto the ground, so I am able to see the beautiful rocks scattered across the landscape.

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Runaway Train Pursued by Generals

 I am on a runaway train that some generals are trying to stop. They are on bicycles. From the ground now, I see the train running over them at high speed. They have heavy equipment which runs into the back quarter of the train and derails it, but the rest of the train barrels on. They have dug up a section of the tracks, but I know this will not stop the train. None of this has happened yet, as I flashed forward in time to see it. Returning to the present, the train is still barreling down the tracks at high speed.

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Garbage Dump / Bliss Experience

Standing in a large hole in the ground, a garbage dump. I begin to climb out, over the trash, along a very steep ledge. As I continue along it, I look down at the ground far below, and start to lose my footing. Letting go of my thoughts and cares, it suddenly feels exhilarating. Moving nimbly, I come to the top of a sweeping hillside panorama, looking down across a giant dirt playground. I cross joyfully down the hillside in a looping arc, filled with bliss as I run with complete abandon.

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Little Bolshevik Thugs

Night time in a small room of a larger building. As I move toward the door, a small Bolshevik looking guy wearing a cotton tunic, tiny gold-rimmed oval glasses and a floppy cap, blocks the entrance, flanked by two cohorts. He brandishes an open knife. As I try to move past them, he presses the knife against my chest, through the fabric of my shirt. In the hall now, with both hands, I grab him by the tunic and turning rapidly, lift him up against the wall. His knife falls to the ground. Reaching down, I pick up the knife and holding it, release him. Admonishing him, he and his two friends slink away into the darkness. I feel a little sympathy for them, at their failed thuggery.

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Self-Immolation Guru

A guru is instructing devotees on self-immolation. He gestures to a small box-like kiln where a body is burning. Pulling it out, he sets it on the floor, in kneeling posture, still smoking and glowing ember like. I am terrified and realize I cannot do that. I kneel before the burning body in veneration, and notice a severed head behind it. The eyes are staring back at me, fully alert.