A Lucid, Regression Dream

Last night I had a lot of dreams. This one seemed the most important, and the others slipped ways while I was writing this down. It's the most detailed and lengthy dream I can ever remember.

At the beginning, I was viewing or being in someone else's past life regression. It a Russia-like place, winter, during a war. The time frame was around WWII, but the details seem wrong. I was standing in the snow, watching a huge tractor-like vehicle drive away from me, throwing snow from the treads. It was towing a fuel tanker, as big as the tractor, because the people in the tractor were on their own and couldn't expect to find fuel along their way. The day was clear and bright, the air crisp and clean. My feeling was that the person who's regression this was were in the tractor and this was the end of their story.

At the tractor left, I crossed the snow-covered dirt road and walked along, admiring the detail of the vision. Everywhere I looked I saw trees and birds and tiny flowers. The birds were fluttering and fluffing on the branches of bushes, the colors were bright and clean, the sun bright and hopeful. I was absorbing it all, constantly turning around to see more, and saying to myself that I'd never seen a dream so clear and detailed. I was marveling at how I could look anywhere I wanted, and wasn't restricted to some dream script.

Next, time seemed to slip forward, it was now overcast, perhaps dusk that day or a different day altogether. I was roughly in the same place, a few yards further from the road, near a barn. I was watching a bunch of inept solders trying to hang some of their own. I felt that they were German, but the uniforms were wrong. Anyway, they are trying to hang about six of their comrades and having a real hard time of it. They couldn't seem to find decent trees, the branches they use could barely hold the weight. They try strangling them on the ground and were trying to prop up the sagging branches with sticks. The whole process seemed pretty nasty for the victims.

I was able to walk around and watch them. My feelings were about how futile and useless the whole process was and I had a vague hope that, maybe, they would give up and let some of them live. I didn't stay around to watch the end, time slipped forward again.

Now it was spring or summer, in the same place. The war seemed to be over, the barn was now surrounded by busy children. There were a lot of them, of all ages from toddlers to about ten or so, playing on hay bails. They seemed Jewish. It was morning and the day was clear and bright with vivid colors. It occurred to me that I could interact with the children so I asked a blond-haired girl, about five, sitting on a hay bail, where she was. She didn't really know. I then realized that these were uneducated country children, they had no idea of where they were or what the date was. They might know the name of the nearest village, but that wouldn't mean anything to me. So I just hugged and kissed and laughed with them for a short while until time slipped forward again.

Now it seemed a few hours later, on a dirt road not too far from the barn. I was approaching what I took to be an elder, who had is back to me. He was shorter than I, with curly hair. Dressed in a baggy white shirt, with long sleeves, dark vest, unbuttoned, and dark pants. I started to address him, "Sir..." but then another boy approached me from the left, laughing at me. Then the "man" turned around and I realized my mistake. Even though he seemed to have a full "Amish" beard, the "man" was clearly no more that about eight years old! Oops!

Time slipped forward again. Now I was outside the barn again with a bunch of children that I had gathered. My idea was that the only way I would accomplish my purpose was to tell them a story. A story that they would pass on to their children, generation after generation, until I arrived in the future, in what would be my current lifetime, and I could hear the story and know I had been there.

But I was stuck, what would I tell them? Should I tell them "Rodney Whitehouse was here"? (Yes, I knew what my name was, even in the dream) As the dream ended, I realized that I really couldn't think of anything that would matter.