dream - Black Bear pursuit to 37 Elizabeth Road - Strictly Come Dancing

I had this dream about having these two dreams. I was even shown how to lay out the two dreams. I’ll use this third-dream format to show what happened in the aforementioned/titular dreams.

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The Black Bear @ 37 Elizabeth Road, Haydock:
I was tempting this black bear (yeah, my second encounter with such in a dream context) to move from where it was in the house by putting my life at risk and getting it to chase me. I’d then vanish through a window, with an acrobatic series of jumps and swings on a tree to safety. The bear couldn’t follow me so it would find a way round the back of the house. It was only right at the end of the dream that I arrived at (or recognised I’d always been at) 37 Elizabeth Road, Haydock - and at the end of this dream I uttered a verbal countdown as the Black Bear came round the grassy walkway at the back of the property to corner me in the garden making me jump back over the fence and race back into the kitchen 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… I pulled the door shut just in time.

Strictly Come Dancing:
I’m only writing this because ‘the third dream told me’ to write it down – showed me how to write it down. Something vague about competing in the BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing show. But it was the format in which I was shown this laid out that I wanted to replicate here, hence.

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So, that’s it, that’s the way both dreams were shown to me. I have no idea why I think recording dreams like this on a public platform is worthwhile for anyone, but in making myself remember dreams I’m maybe making myself realise something else about the way life is run.
I’m sure that all who know me think I’ve started to associate black hair with cancer and a black bear sure has a lot of that. But I’m not convinced of that, just yet, and for the life of me I can’t just stand there and have ‘a conversation’ with a roaring, running, slavering black bear. I just can’t do it, yet. There’s not enough realisation or control of fear, yet. And it doesn’t look like it wants to ‘parlay’; just tear and scrape and digest. It’s just too big, and huge, and hairy, and scary to imagine any ‘message’ pouring out of its blood-dribbling snout.

But it might have given me an idea for Free Planet² LIBERATOR, which I’m 5,500 words into currently. It’s like ‘my dreaming mind’ knows when I’m starting a book and gives me a good visceral kick up the bum with stackloads of relevant narrative imagery to get my writing fingers flowing across the QWERTY landscape.