Last night I didn’t write down any of my dreams, cause sometimes I like to take the night off. Also, I think there’s a balance to be struck with dream exploration & recollection. It seems like it’s more important just to get the ball rolling, you know, to start recording dreams and looking for correlations and things. And once that starts to snowball a little, the practice of it becomes a bit more internalized. Sort of like the external effort gets reabsorbed into the appropriate part of your mind which handles these things naturally, but maybe was blocked or out of practice, or something like that.

In any event, I do remember one thing with utter clarity from this morning. I was laying in bed, asleep, and all of a sudden, I heard a man’s voice say, “Tim!” And it was not loud, but it was very… full. It almost sounded like it resonated through multiple sounds at once. As though many overlapping voices were joined in its utterance. And it absolutely instantly shocked me awake, having triggered some survival part of my brain, which was blasting me signals like somebody was in the room with me. But of course, nobody was.

So yeah, in my continuing quest to explore dream imagery, I looked up my name meaning and origin, even though I already knew it. For anybody who doesn’t:

Means “honouring God” from Greek timan “to honour” and theos “god”. Timothy was a companion of Saint Paul on his missionary journeys and was the recipient of two of Paul’s epistles which appear in the New Testament. According to tradition, he was martyred at Ephesus after protesting the worship of Artemis.

More on this later maybe…