Morning of March 27, 2014. Thursday.

I am not quite sure why my latest dream featured Halloween (albeit in a very “downplayed” way), but it was quite interesting and enjoyable overall. It is a bit too long to try to detail in full, but I will try to “explain” some of the more vivid scenes. The entire dream takes place in an unfamiliar location, it seems, but the name “Rockdale” (which is a town in New South Wales) seems to be correct - though I have never been there. Rockdale is an hour’s drive from where my wife was born in Port Kembla.

The large room my family and I are in seems to be part of some sort of educational venue (but perhaps not an actual school) and has a lot of “Halloween” decorations, though not in a traditional mainstream way. In fact, if people did not know it was supposed to be a Halloween setup, they might not even be aware of the connection. Most of the other people at the party are unknown and most of at least twenty-five percent Australian Aboriginal heritage (even though Halloween is certainly not a traditional “holiday” for more traditional natives in general, including in the USA). There are various drawings and paintings on the wall of about fifty-percent of a more traditional Aboriginal appearance art-wise. There are also old-style paper chains of orange and black (rather than the red and green of Christmas typically used).

One authoritative female, who seems to have many of the same attributes as my wife, seems to be in charge of everything. Most of the other students are only from three years to about sixteen or so. I seem to be fairly young, perhaps around eighteen, even though I am vaguely aware of my “real” (present) identity.

I see a large poster of the type people make in school. This one, at first, seems to be about my family heritage (a smaller family tree cluster). However, looking a bit closer, I see it has that I am from the town of Tecumseh (Canada), which is sort of amusing in the dream. Other towns are mentioned, mostly variations of “Tecumseh” and my last name (which happens to be an actual town in Missouri as well as a long road). There are other names, but I cannot remember. So, instead of being a “family tree”, it is a (fictional in regarding the places I have lived) “travel tree” relating to where people are “from” or have been. This may be some sort of play on past events in real life where there was a running gag when someone asked “Where are you from?” and they would answer “My mother”, similar to “How are you going?” and I’d say “By bus”.

At one point I am offered to select from a larger baking tin of cinnamon rolls. They are made to look like large snails in a very realistic manner. (This is the third time that large snails have been in my dreams lately and I know exactly where it came from - I had been doing a pulsing affirmation with a line being “I am made of the healthiest energies…” and the snail part is an amusing “response” from the supraconscious to this as it comes from the "What Are Little Boys Made of?" nursery rhyme.) I pick up one of the “snail rolls” and eat it. It has at least four very discernible wonderful flavors somewhat akin to baklava but with a hint of strawberry.

Later on is a very vivid and dramatic scene. One of the girls goes outside on the request of the “teacher” or “leader” at the party as if it is related to a traditional event somehow. There is a tornadic waterspout somehow on land and heading towards our building. It seems threatening, and yet has a remarkable beauty in the shininess and overall appearance. The (unknown) girl, though quite young, seems to have goddess-like powers and purpose. She hovers about three feet into the air with arms out to the horizontal on each side. From here, she does a ballet movement, implying some sort of Yin Yang counter-force, as the tornadic waterspout moves closer but throws her into a scaffold, head first (causing brief unconsciousness), though the tornadic forces do become a bit weaker and less of a threat. (This seems to be a variation of the dream as a child where I was about to stop a tornado by turning a merry-go-round to counteract it, but woke before the outcome, though I knew I would win. This part of the dream also seems to have a very slight association with the “Deep Space Nine” episode “The Storyteller” regarding a traditional defeat of a “monster” by a chosen person - and the “monster cloud” imagery is vaguely similar in parts.)

The girl recovers fairly quickly and gets up and does more pirouettes, each one just slightly touching the outer forces of the cyclonic storm and making it a bit smaller each time. There is an unusual change in color upon each contact that moves out like an electrical charge (or at least as how they are shown in movies - special effects, I assume). I get an idea to help her. I get the baking tin of "snails" (but which are made of sugar and spice) and throw them into the twister. Each time one hits (and I throw at least six in) there is a strange spread of beautiful colors that moves into the storm, lessening it each time until it is actually gone.

I look back and see that the other people, coming out of the building, are very happy and appreciative that we have defeated the storm. A few of them even applaud.

So boys are made “of snails” (in part), yet these snails were made of “sugar and spice” (what girls are “made of”). By combining this seeming ambiguity, the threat was entirely eliminated. Some intriguing plays here, I think, revealing the intricacy of dreams. A snail made of sugar and spice could actually represent Yin and Yang balance, I think.

As an additional insight, Rockdale, when the syllables are switched around, sounds a bit like the “monster cloud” name from “The Storyteller” episode of “Deep Space Nine”, which is "Dal’Rok". (I have seen thousands of intriguing multilayered intricacies like this, which I believe are often missed by people.)