May 2, 2013
I believe I’m awake and lying in my new LD bed in the rec room when Stinger suddenly walks in with our dog Arthur, who he mischievously drops on the bed as he sits on its edge. Surprised and annoyed in equal measure, I say, “What are you doing in here? You know I’m trying to sleep and have a lucid dream.” It’s really most unlikely he’s there and I wonder, “Am I dreaming this?” I’m not sure if I wake for a few moments after this and go back to sleep, or whether the False Awakening continues, but there is now clearly a door in the wall, a few feet from the foot of the bed, which is not really there. The door is already open and I immediately realize it leads into my parents’ old bedroom, the one they shared when I was a child. I get the strong sense of Papi, but of course he won’t be in there anymore so I close the door, feeling just a little unnerved. It’s a plain white domestic door and yet clearly this is a door I can use to take me places in a LD. It hits me then that I’m dreaming and can go somewhere now, but there’s no need to use the door since my bed is flush to the glass doors and I can just go through them. I plant both my hands against the glass and am disappointed it feels perfectly real and solid. Well, I guess I can’t go flying off into the night because, obviously, I’m awake. I hear my brother’s excited voice carrying across the house from the bedroom and soon wake for real. I gasp out loud. The bright, star-like waning moon is shining straight down on my face. I lay there for a bit absorbing its light and feeling it can help me LD.
I believe I’m lying awake on my left side facing the room, the glass doors behind me. In the dream, the flat screen TV runs parallel to the top of my head; in reality, it forms a right angle with my head. I hear a voice come from beyond the TV, a quiet, distinct, absolutely real voice. I tense. There is someone in the dark room with me, no doubt whatsoever about that. Yet I’m not as terrified as I think I should be because the voice sounded like Papi’s and spoke in Spanish. “Porfavor.” (Please.) I finally find the courage to respond timidly, “Que?” (What?) He replies, “Ven aqui.” (Come here.) I feel that is just way too much to ask, because this is really creepy. “Pero tengo miedo, Papi!” (But I’m afraid). He says something to the effect of “Move now. Don’t wait.” I struggle to sit up. It’s difficult to move, and not just because I’m scared; it’s hard to coordinate my limbs. I manage a sitting position and know I have to be dreaming when I see him sitting in front of the bay windows, the blue of his seeming sweat pants distinctly visible in the darkness. As soon as I realize I’m dreaming my fear mostly evaporates. I stand up effortlessly and walk over to him. It really does appear to be Papi and I’m not surprised because it seems like the next, mysteriously promising (if somewhat sinister feeling) step in our dream relationship. He gestures, looking apologetically at a loss because in the dream there are no other chairs in which I can sit. I say quickly, “That’s okay, I’ll just sit here” and perch on what appears to be a child-size circular table in front of him, the kind kids sit around to draw and have fun. He’s smiling at me but it concerns me a little that he looks very thin, the way he did before he died. He says something in Spanish to the effect of, “You know, when you’re rupturing inside…” and I feel he’s talking about the last few hours of his life—the nightmare ride in the ambulance in the middle of the night. I sense he needs to share this with me, for both our sakes. But suddenly I’m distracted by how oddly high-pitched and reedy his voice is becoming. I get up and moving right stand over him on his left side. “Papi, you sound funny… and you don’t really look like yourself.” The smile he directs up at me speaks to me clearly as I understand my comment is rather foolish since on the Other Side no one has any fixed form. As I study his face, familiar yet slightly different, I phase out of the dream.
Another False Awakening. My brother calls me and I tell him about my dream with Papi and he’s very excited about the one I had a few nights ago. I hang up eventually but it’s odd that I’m kneeling on the bed. I get up and move to the doors. I consider going back to sleep in my bedroom with Stinger and Arthur and the cat since it’s already late in the night anyway, and because it makes me nervous how the green curtains over the glass doors seem to have a life of their own, very deliberately moving from left to right as if trying to get my attention. Yet maybe it’s because of the wind picking up outside. I decide to stay because this supernatural storm is more fascinating than unnerving.
In yet another False Awakening later, I walk over to the Bay window on the far right when I hear voices, and sure enough, two men are casually preparing to climb into the room. Obviously they are thieves and they seem more surprised to me see me than I am to see them. I say, “Look, my husband has a gun, so I really don’t think you want to be doing this. Go away and have a nice day.” I close the window just as Stinger hurries in as though he heard something suspicious. The guy on the left, who actually looks like a nice man when he isn’t breaking into houses, asks me how to get to a certain road, pretending they just got lost and drove up the driveway for directions. I ask him if it’s on Route 50 or Route 7 then add, “Look, you better leave before we call the police.” They make to do so, but they have all this stuff with them on their truck and I “step” outside to look through it, delighted to come upon a large stash of copper measuring spoons like ones I own and love. I go through them, surprised to see odd sizes like 1.5 Tablespoon. I intend to keep a lot of them!
Dream Notes: The thieves near the end of the night might relate to my concern that some entity “broke into” my dream space pretending to be Papi. I woke too soon to hear what he had to say, but I felt comfortable with him, like he really was Papi. His voice, quiet yet a very real sound, alive with presence, sounded like Papi’s. His blue (a heavenly color) pants also seem like a clue that it was him and not a sinister impostor. I got the feeling he wanted, needed to share the last terrible hours of his life with me. The child’s drawing table is also a positive touch, the beginning of something, learning and growing, a creative relationship between us.
My dream partner, James, remarked: “I am most intrigued by Papi’s “move now, don’t wait” comment. I am not convinced it is meant to be taken only literally; I get the sense it’s meaning is broader. Is there something your Papi would want you to urgently move on at this point? I agree with your interpretation of the kid’s table. It seems like a creative/learning space. Again, I get the sense there is something he is urging you to dive into.”
I really think Papi wants me to do everything I can to develop my natural lucid dreaming ability. For more than two years now, I have simply let LD’s happen by living lucidly, setting intentions and believing in the process. That was good, but it’s no coincidence the first night in my new LD space he came to me so vividly, and on the third night he was there. My new focused dream space is a good beginning. Papi is encouraging me to “move now” with my dreams, in every sense. I knew I had to move to the rec room on the nights I want to lucid dream, and I have since ordered some Galantamine. The copper spoons are most interesting. Copper was a sacred metal in ancient Egypt, temple doors were made of copper, but I feel it has to do with finding the right measurement, which I think relates to how I have lingered on the fence between Have LD’s Naturally With No Supplements and Use Supplements to LD. The answer is both, just find the right measure of each.
I feel last night was a test, the most basic and yet the most important test if a higher form of education, a new level of experience, can begin: Are you ready to rise above your fears? It’s no coincidence he spoke about the last hours of his life, when his body was dying, when he was confronting the ultimate terror. The door to his old bedroom appeared at the foot of my bed, leading into the past and our physical life together. Then he greeted me with the word “Please” from the opposite side of the room. To pursue our continuing relationship in the 4th Dimension, a space between the Other Side and physical reality? That’s what I assumed in the dream, that I have opened up a gateway to begin what I believe should be possible: an ongoing relationship with deceased loved ones that is natural rather than frightening. When someone you love dies, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to see them, talk to them, be lucid with them on a regular basis? These are popularly considered pipe dream questions, but I think why the hell not? The Western world blew up the bridge between the worlds, and its high time we began building it again reinforced with modern foundations.