Only 4 of the 20 dream contributors were physically present at the waking event and all 4 contributed dreams dreamt beforehand. The remainder of the dreamers lived at a distance. None, except me, had ever been to Diane Bick's apartment.

Using the literal focus of dream psi, Dennis picked up that the waking meeting was held in a 2-story apartment with a deep stairwell and a sunken living room entered by 2 pairs of 2-step stairs that form a "V." Jo dreamt there was a tablecloth on the table and that liquid was spilled on the rug (fortunately, it was water). Ed, Debra and Melinda dreamt there was a (semi) bald man present.

On the symbolic side of dream psi, I associated "reunion" with high school (I graduated in 1961). So Richard and Jill talk about the '60's and Ed has "hippies" in his dreams.

Jo and Thea dream of monkeys, and yes, more than one dreamer can claim that personality trait! But mainly, it refers to the fact that I selected, as the "energy" focus for the day, a group sing-a-long. At the end of the presentation we all stood up and sang the Fly-By-Night Club Anthem...to the tune of "Mickey Mouse Club."

The chorus goes, "Fly-By-Night, Fly-By-Night, Forever let our slumber be divine!" So Jill translates this into a Salvation Army quartet, Ruth thinks it's a Protestant hymn and Melinda dreams up a full Ascension. (Even though Jill and Ruth were present to sing the Anthem, neither had ever heard it before.)

Both Jill and Dennis dreamt of "fours"...the quartet/quadrants. During the presentation, I held up some "cut outs" - 4 puzzle pieces of individual dreams which together represent a "group meeting." (You can find them on page 244 of Mutual Dreaming.)

Jill and Melinda did it again. Reprising their accomplishments in Chapter 17 of Mutual Dreaming, Jill Gregory and Melinda Nelson's dreams demonstrated the greatest resonance...and both had flying themes. The two women hadn't dreamt together for years. Now that's a reunion! My working hypothesis: just like riding a bicycle (or flying in dream space), once our dreaming selves learn to mutual dream, they never forget how.

Jill Gregory - July 18, 1997 AM

We are having a reunion of those participating in the recent ASD (Association for the Study of Dreams) conference in Asheville, North Carolina. I notice S. and many other familiar faces, both men and women.

I remember Linda Magallón's instructions to look for surprise visitors. I recognize Karen but when I say her name, it comes out "Luminous." I feel satisfied that I have fulfilled Linda's instructions since recognizing Karen was definitely a surprise!

We are all going somewhere else together so we divide up into cars for the trip. I decide to ride with a woman who is driving a squarish white well-maintained "Plain Jane" car of the '60s. I sit in the front passenger seat. It is daytime and we head east on a large busy freeway with many other cars in our caravan.

Very soon, my driver runs into the car in front of us. I am aghast. But my driver seems so casual about it. We are stopped with enough apparent damage to involve officials but I intuitively know that there are no injuries.

My driver tells me that I shouldn't be so upset about running into someone. "After all, that is Linda's instructions. We are supposed to meet people, get to know people and run into people." I feel exasperated with her cavalier attitude. I slink down my seat until my body is below the level of the car windows, hoping the person we ran into who is probably coming back to our car will not see me or confront me along with the driver. But no one comes.

"See?" says my driver. "It's nothing to worry about. Besides I run into people all the time. I just had another one before coming here today." Geeeze!, I think to myself. Of all the drivers to pick, I had to get this one!" But I continue being her ride partner.

Now we all have to get out of our cars and sing songs on the medians and crosswalks dressed as Salvation Army Band members. I am really hoping to avoid this but the guy in charge says that we just need two more people to form the last quartet. I know that my driver and I are just standing there being the only ones not already in a singing group so resignedly I give in. We join a quartet.

We all wear the heavy woolen dark uniforms - hats with the long coats with gold epaulets on the shoulders. We sing enthusiastically to passersby some of whom are pedestrians and others of whom are in cars.

The person in charge enthuses about spreading the news and practice of karaoke around the country. I'm not enthused about that but I am glad that I agreed to join a quartet because I really enjoyed singing with everyone. What was so great was that we so easily found songs to sing that we all liked, all knew both the melody, harmony and all of the words to all of the verses. Plus we sounded really good together!

Now we are all walking in Golden Gate Park. The garden areas and clearings are green and lush. To my surprise, I see mechanical bathtub toys flying through the air in one particular area. It sort of looks like a party site. The toy I notice most is a red and white mechanical goldfish that "swims" or should I say "flies" toward me and in front of me. I recognize it to be just like the one that was my favorite bathtub windup toy of my kids - the one that worked the longest after you wound it up and looked and moved the most like the animal it represented. There are many other colorful animal mechanical toys of various sizes flying around.

A woman and I watch from the ground as a group of 7 or 8 balloonists fly together overhead. They are in a line all touching at the top. Except for one. It is off by itself and we don't know if it will join the group. My companion says "Oh! Look! That one is by itself - it's not touching the others so it will gradually fall."

As we watch the lone balloon joins the group successfully on the left end of the line. Then for some reason not apparent to us, it moves around to the middle of the line, positioning itself to the front of the line. The balloonists all fly together over San Francisco Bay Area. It is such a beautiful day!

Melinda Nelson - July 19, 1997 7-8 AM

I'm outdoors - sense of gaiety, celebrating summer. Cars parked nearby and small boats are on a lake with happy picnickers. Red and yellow helium balloons are rising, and people are dressed in summer clothes, maybe 50 to 100 people.

A childhood friend of my cousin Diane, whose name was Corky, has a little boy about two years old. Neither Corky nor Diane is there. I pick him up or he's been placed in my arms. He's adorable. Brown haired, short pants, and soft rounded toed white leather shoes. I cuddle him against me, watching the balloons rising.

Mary Poppins style, many of us (15-20) start levitating all together, thinking nothing of it. It seems so normal. We're just celebrating, having fun. I have a sense of being in Santa Cruz (site of former ASD conferences). We keep rising and yet are somehow rising also in a double alternate reality which is the inside of a University building. We rise up through the different floors, since we are permeable, rise up through the stairwells and the elevators. More and more of us are rising, lighthearted, now we are in the hundreds, then thousands. Huge blocks of thousands and thousands of people, all in summer clothes are ascending up in celebration.

I'm struck now that I have this child whose mother must be frantically looking for him, perhaps not "ascending" because of it. I realize in disappointment, I must return down to earth to find her - it's only fair. I first look for her in the risers but don't see her. So regretfully, I go back down, a long ride. I realize all the "risers" are good natured, calm, mild mannered, kind hearted. I enjoy their company and I, too, experience myself this way. We land on the ground. The town seems almost empty. "Gravity" (ho-ho) seems very hard, hard to move around. The people left on the earth are few, and are harsh, undeveloped, made mean by living in poverty, sense of a third world South American flavor. I'm feeling sorry for them, especially the children. I can't find the mother, and after a long search I realize if I don't rise now, I will get stuck down here where I don't belong. Sorry or no, I don't want to end up with them and know I don't belong there.

Passing a laundromat, I ask for directions back to the university. No one knows the way. Eventually, I decide to go through an arts and crafts store entrance instead. I realize I don't have time to hunt down the university entrance, time is short. I cross the street to get to it, barely missing a speeding car. Now on the other side of the street, already rising up in the air, I look down, and wonder, did that car hit us? Have we actually died? Is that what this is about? I look down to see if there's a body there but don't see one and don't want to, since the thought of it is upsetting my mood, and I want to concentrate on rising up, which is going quite well.

I paddle the air with my right arm, still holding the boy with my left. I rise up through the last to rise group of people and pass them, and rise up more permeating into an elevator, still levitating in it. The people here seem nicer, the higher I get the nicer the people. A man asks to hold the boy, I give him to him momentarily, yet shockingly, he drops him on his face. I pick him up - he's not hurt at all, I'm relieved to find he's completely fine.

I immediately rise higher, wanting nicer company. I'm almost back to the very top rise now. The boy raises his head and looks up at me and I notice he has a hip, side shaved hair do and also oddly a bald spot on the crown. I say, "You've been growing up!" Yes, he admits he has. He now seems at least 5 or 6. I tell him I'm trying to return him to his mother. He says that actually, he doesn't want to be returned, he wanted to get away! Why? Because she lied to him about who his father was. He found out while working on the Internet, that his real father was his uncle. I'm startled.

"What is your mother's name?" I ask, seeming to not remember it. "Quarky or Corty", he says. (It was Corky.) I'm relieved to know it, thinking I'll have a better chance of finding her. Whether her likes it or not, I want to return him, he's cute, but not my responsibility and I'm sure his mother wants him back! We continue to rise. I awaken.