A Happy Life

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  • Topic: Dream, Lucid dream
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  • Published : July 19, 2011
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BEAUTIFUL DREAMER

Copyright © 2009 by Barry Daniels All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The creative dreaming techniques described in "Beautiful Dreamer" are real, and are used nightly by countless people around the world. Many of these people keep dream diaries, and often claim to find inspiration and guidance from contemplation and analysis of their dreams.

Lucid Dreaming is also real, although its mastery and use are normally only achieved by years of dedicated effort.

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER. Prologue Nineteen Sixty: Yorkshire, England.

His friends called him ‘Titch’, which was simply a Yorkshire term for a person of small size. In fact Titch was not small; not for his age; it was just that any ten-year old boy who chose to run with a pack of twelve to fourteen year olds was doomed to be thought of as ‘Titchy’. Yet he was not small where it mattered most to the gang -- in his heart and in his spirit -- and he could hold his own in most of their rough and tumble games. But this one was different.

It was cold, that winter; cold enough that the ice on the canal could support the weight of a pack of small boys, who skated and skidded and chased and tumbled on the frozen surface. They ‘skated’ on the soles of their leather shoes, or, for the luckier ones, their winter boots, for ice skates were a rare commodity in that place at that time. And then they decided to play ice hockey.

Since no-one knew much about this strange North American pursuit it fell to Brian Lockwood to determine the rules of play. Being the eldest and biggest of the boys it often fell to Brian to make such determinations. They knew that hockey was basically a ‘girl’s game’ played by their female associates during the summer season while the boys played soccer. Yet they understood that in North America Ice Hockey was a game for the toughest, the fastest, the most skilful of men. Therefore the rules for ice hockey and field hockey must be substantially different in some important respects. Their ‘hockey sticks’ were whatever pieces of wood fell to hand; about half of the group brought out their cricket bats. The

‘puck’ was a well worn tennis ball. Each ‘net’ was represented by two piles of scarves and hats, similar to those which at other times would serve as the ‘goalposts’ for impromptu soccer matches.

The boys cleared a light snowfall from the surface of the canal over a surface roughly sixty feet long by the width of the waterway – about fourteen feet. The sides were selected by team captains – Brian Lockwood and his twelve year old brother Neil – into two teams. Titch was the last boy picked, and ended up on Brian’s team. “What position should I play, Bri?” he asked the bigger boy.

“You play ‘Outfielder’” Brian told him. “That’s like fullback in soccer. Go and stand by the goal, and if the ball comes back to you, bash it up to the Attackers. OK?”

“That’s like being Goalie!” Titch complained. “I don’t want to play goalie!”

“They don’t have goalies in ice hockey,” Brian explained. “That’s why ‘Outfielder’ is such an important position, OK?”

Mollified, Titch stood by the goalposts, watching the tangle of arms, legs, bats and various wooden contraptions as the two sides melded into a single brawling mass. He longed to get into the fray, but knew even at ten years old that a good team player holds his position, no matter what. In his frustration he struck at the ice with his cricket bat – a device really suited to a much larger boy. The bat skidded off the surface, cracking the ice, and the momentum of its continued

swing carried the small boy off his feet. He jackknifed in the air and headed downwards, butt first,...
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