Awake and Dreaming

I am now waiting 9 months before posting my lucid dreams, which means I am approximately 50 lucid dreams behind.

May 28, 2014 I’m aware of being in a vast hotel of sorts with my husband, Stinger and my mother, who is waiting for us. Stinger is busy, and I find myself walking down a magnificently broad aisle toward where I can see Mami in the near distance. She is reclining on one of a pair of luxurious chaise lounges, brown with dark-gold trims, placed side-by-side. I have never seen chairs like these, and it lets me know that where I am is a very special place. Only an elite crowd stays here, but it has nothing to do with how much money you have. I promptly make myself comfortable in the empty chair beside Mami’s. It’s difficult to describe where we are. High triangular wooden arches evoke the foyer of a Cathedral, and a woman is greeting newcomers, offering them refreshment. I simply observe the hostess for a while…  Lost time…

The next thing I know, the sumptuous chaise lounge Mami is sitting in is now white and spherical and floating high above the floor. I’m clinging desperately to her hand as I float above her, my legs in the air above my head. I feel that only by holding onto her can I prevent myself from plummeting to my death. Then, abruptly, I realize it’s okay, that I can simply let go of her and enter a lucid dream. I promptly do so, and find myself slowly drifting and spinning. Again, it’s impossible to say where I am, exactly. The structure appears circular, and it is so massive the floor and ceiling aren’t visible, nor are the sides farthest from me. Nearby in a white wall, there is a rectangular opening at least twice as high as I am and much broader. I clearly discern some shining metal fixtures on the top edge, from which I consider hanging for a moment. I know I’m dreaming, but I can’t completely shake the concern gravity might assert itself, even though I know this won’t happen. As I continue slowly drifting and spinning, I lose visuals. When they eventually return, the first thing I see is a diffused golden light, after which the structure takes form around me again. This happens several times as I exercise my dream body, moving like a weightless acrobat.

I plant my hands against a surface I intend to be solid, and which I distinctly feel as I twirl around and set my bare feet down against it. I’m very conscious of the fact that my movements and intentions are contributing to the creation of dimensions, and the sensations of a firm surface against my feet and hands. I’m not just waiting for visuals to return, I’m actively assisting in their reappearance. I execute a back bend, spinning around in mid air. I could never do back bends in waking reality, and it seems a good way to begin pushing my limits. I lose all visuals again as I execute the motion, but they return as described…

Lost time? False Awakening: I become aware of being outside at either dusk or dawn, floating just above a city street as I cross it, reclining comfortably in the air, as though on my own bed, and clutching a golden pillow against my chest. I feel perfectly relaxed and yet also in control as a bright yellow vehicle I recognize as a taxi comes into view. It is nearly as big as a bus, and swiftly approaching, on a collision course with my body. I can’t make myself move any faster, but I’m not concerned; I know it can’t hurt me, and that I will reach the sidewalk in time, which is exactly what happens. I seem to feel the wind of the vehicle’s passing, and wonder what the driver thinks of the impossible sight of a woman floating in a reclining position across the street holding a pillow. Then I wonder at how natural it is for me to be outside in the real world like this. It seems a reflection of the fact that lucid dreaming is second nature to me now. I seem to be both awake and lucid dreaming because waking reality is also a dream. I’m aware that in the “real” world I wouldn’t be able to defy gravity like this, because the air wouldn’t support me like my own bed, and yet I know I’m dreaming while awake, that it’s becoming second nature for me to be lucid in both states.

As I approach a yellow glass building much taller than it is broad, floating toward the dark entrance, I catch sight of my reflection in the opaque glass. My image is a dark-gold color, shadowy and yet well defined, and I’m smiling at myself, grinning with a Cheshire cat-like satisfaction, confidence and pleasure. My head, face and torso are just a little narrower and longer than in waking reality, and my hair is long and straight, which gives me a distinctly fey appearance.

Lost time… I’m standing in front of a white building holding my little dog Arthur in my arms. I’m about to enter the structure when I question why I would do so, when instead I can stay out here and turn this into another lucid dream. I set Arthur down, and he walks behind me, but when I glance back at him, he is only a misty outline, and looks more like the ghost of Merlin, the Shih Tzu I owned before him. It makes sense to me that my two beloved doggies have merged like this, yet it seems more likely I am with Merlin now. It’s nighttime, and I’m following a broad white path, walking along a structure that rises on my left. A few yards away on my right there is open space that feels like a large black body of water, either a river or an ocean bay.

Then I glance up at the sky and stop short, astonished by what I see high above me in the starry universe—geometric constellations composed of bright white musical notes crammed together, and streaking swiftly across the sky, so that their clusters also evoke algebra equations. This is impossible! Magical! But just a little too perfect? Suddenly, I understand that what I’m seeing are projections, a fantastic display orchestrated by the mysterious high-end resort I seem to have come upon. As I stand there, marveling at this Disney-like mathematical heaven, two men on their way out suddenly pause near me, and one of them says, “Let’s stay the night. Why leave now? We can-” They turn around, and he describes a decadent-sounding purple drink he intends to order, accompanied by some celestial version of a cigar. As they head back inside, I study them curiously. They are both tall and handsome in an average way, well dressed and affluent enough to afford this place. I also get the feeling they are a couple.

Lost time… I’m inside a woman’s home, sitting at a table with several other people. She is very accommodating, but there is nothing wealthy or special about the decor. I’m not entirely sure why I’m here, but I feel comfortable, and the people are all somehow familiar to me. I close my eyes, fall asleep, and become lucid again. In this lucid dream nestled within a false awakening, I think about the white mathematical musical notes flying across the universe which at first seemed awe inspiring, but then so obviously like man-made projections lacking that ineffable yet unmistakable Divine touch. I wonder if I stumbled upon a high-end section of Purgatory, resort-like, but still Purgatory, because God was not truly present in that universe, which I can only describe as an odd blend of modern physics and Disney World… I open my eyes, believing I wake up where I’m still sitting at a table—a false awakening nestled in another false awakening, with a lucid dream in between, like some sort of consciousness sandwich!

I’m struck by the fact that I just fell asleep, and had a lucid dream in public. Wow. How did I manage not to topple over in my chair? We’re all apparently having a meeting and discussion of some kind around this table, because no one is eating… I phase out of the dream, finally waking up for real.

After getting up to quickly write down key words and thoughts about these multiple lucid dreams and false awakenings, I go back to sleep. Just before waking for the day, I received an image of a circular white-framed window divided into six or eight panes through which I clearly see distant stars shining in the black depths of space, and this window is spinning at a steady rate, like a wheel, even as it remains in place.

The Spirit of Evolution

Note: I am now waiting 6 months before posting my lucid dreams, which means I am approximately 35 lucid dreams behind.

March 12, 2014

I’m with another woman. We’re standing outside on the edge of a large pool of silver-white water, surrounded on three sides by tall and dark fence-like walls. On the fourth and back side is the building we seem to have emerged from. The moment I see the pool, I tell my companion I’m going swimming, and add, “I miss swimming! I used to swim all the time when I lived in Louisiana. We had five acres, and Stinger built me a pool that looked like a pond. Instead of a white concrete frame, the black liner provided a border, so that from a distance it looked like a natural pond, but the water was filtered clean.” (All true in waking reality).

I’m not sure if I was already lucid at this point, but as soon as I enter the pool, I know I’m dreaming. I still sense my female companion, who is also waist-deep in the water on my left, but my attention is quite naturally riveted on the huge silver fish directly facing me where it floats motionless in the middle of the pool, it’s wide jagged mouth above the water. The creature could swallow me whole without blinking, and it seems to be challenging me. I tell my silent friend, “I’m determined to go swimming. Nothing is going to stop me!” In an earlier dream, I had seen a spear with its head deeply embedded in the stone of a very high tower under siege. As I consider manifesting this spear now, I raise my right arm. I don’t see the weapon, but that doesn’t stop me from wading over to the prehistoric looking fish intending to throw my imaginary spear into its dark mouth, open as if preparing to devour me. The spear remains invisible and ineffectual as I pantomime throwing it. I am now standing directly in front of the gaping jaws that resemble a dark, narrow, and jagged portal. Still waist-deep in the water, I can see inside the monstrous fish, and I consider swimming through its dark insides and out the other end, treating it like just another barrier that isn’t really there because I’m dreaming. But the prospect isn’t very appealing, and I spontaneously find myself floating out of the water beyond the creature’s reach while trying to come up with another strategy.

I drift from left to right again over the pool, and then over the enclosure wall. The giant silver fish follows me, sort of fly-leaping out of the water directly over the wall. It lands upright on the dark grass at the same moment that I alight on the white sidewalk a few feet away. I think—Okay, I’ll fight you if that’s what you want… but I really don’t want to kill you… I approach the great standing fish, and the closer I get to it, the more I resist the idea of killing it. Close enough to touch it, I suddenly know in my heart what I want to do as I say, “I won’t kill you; I’ll transform you instead!” All it takes is my touch for this giant fish-monster to collapse at my feet. I kneel down, keeping my hands on its writhing silver body, as I think—When I turn it over, instead of fish guts, something else will fall out, not dark and slimy organs, but something else… As I upend the big silvery sack, the curled up body of a little girl tumbles out onto the grass. Her long slender limbs are bare, but her torso is wrapped as though in shadow. I spread her gently out across the grass, kneeling over her in wonder.

Grasping her pale, frail little hand, I tenderly run her palm over the cool and slightly prickly grass. “Feel this grass,” I murmur, “and this soft flower petal against your flesh…” I brush a white petal against the skin of her left hand, which is almost as soft as the flower. “Feel that…? Isn’t it wonderful to be out of the water at last?” The tactile sensations are as vivid for me as I desire them to be for her. All the magic and mystery of evolution, from prehistoric fish to human child, feels embodied in this little girl. I crouch over her, and kiss her smooth, silky soft cheek, which is a rosy color. I’m consumed by pure love and tenderness for this miracle of life, my heart is suffused with joy as I press my cheek very lightly against hers. She feels absolutely real, and weighs like a little girl of about five or six, as I stand, scooping her up in my arms.

I struggle for a moment, my dream body a little uncoordinated, but as she clings to me, frightened, I promise her, “I won’t drop you. I would never let you fall.” I rise slowly into the air, fly over the barrier, and back over the pool toward the building. I place my right hand on something, pushing it away and using the momentum to lower myself back to the ground, and enter the white structure. I fly through its familiar corridors with the little girl cradled in my arms. I recognize a long elevated area I pass on my left furnished with red and yellow gym-like equipment, as is the ledge directly before me. I make a sharp left, and in my mind’s eye see my waking reality sister engaged in a demonstration in a nearby stadium: she is showing off dream body coordination as she carries several objects at once while maintaining full control of her flying body. I am taking the child somewhere specific as I phase out of the dream.

Lucid Practice

May 18, 2013

I’m in the kitchen when I realize I forgot to serve Mario my special avocado pesto, so as he watches, I crush the avocado slices with a fork, explaining there are very few ingredients as they break down into a smooth paste. I leave him to finish… Later, already in bed, I get up and quickly and purposefully make the rounds of the house to make sure all the doors are locked.

VLUU L100, M100  / Samsung L100, M100

My family is visiting and I just want to make sure I do the sensible thing and secure the house, even though on this mountain top we usually sleep with the doors unlocked and even open in the warm weather. As I pass through the kitchen, I notice the refrigerator is not completely closed and is dark inside. Mario set the container of avocado spread directly beneath the light. I move it down and make sure the door closes completely as I head into the sun room and lock the door we use everyday. I consider testing the door leading out to the hot tub but know that these days it’s always locked. Out to the front door and lastly to the rec room, where I lock the sliding glass door. The room is only faintly lit by some unknown light source. As I step back from the door, how completely awake, energetic and purposeful I feel translates into an elated lack of gravity that wafts me up until my head touches the ceiling. I think—If this was a dream, I would stay up here and not fall. Nothing happens.—This is a dream!

VLUU L100, M100  / Samsung L100, M100I promptly descend and face the Bay Windows, completely elated, and conscious of needing to dim that feeling so I don’t wake up. I consider trying to fly through the windows, but they aren’t as close as the ceiling, so up I go. I encounter substance with a slight resistance and lose all visuals, but I wait patiently to break through to the night sky. When that doesn’t happen, I calmly wipe the “gray matter” away from my eyes and open them to find myself out in the night sky. It worked! Black, feather-like shadows still extend from the corners of my eyes, but I take care of those by raising my hands before my face in the time honored dream stabilizing tradition. I am now fully embedded in the scene and lower to the ground. I get only a vague sense of a residential area but I clearly see a tall young, light-haired man walking just below me. Without even intending it, I indulge a mischievous impulse to swoop low and fast over him, invisible as an owl, as I emit a deliberately creepy sound. I’m curious to see if he’ll hear the ghostly noise and whether or not he’ll see me. He obviously hears something because he looks up and around, and I feel bad about messing with his head like that. Still, I want to see what happens as I pass my right hand quickly back and forth against the top of his head, mussing up his hair the fond way adults do to children. He seems to see me now, but as we stare at each other, I force myself to look away, remembering the danger of focusing for too long on one person or thing.

Okay, my intent. Before me, I see what look like the remains of a house, or perhaps raw material for construction, and focus on a plain but heavy looking wooden door lying on the ground slightly propped up by some beams. I know James isn’t planning to LD tonight, nevertheless, though the chances of finding him and “waking” him are less than slim, I intend for this door to lead into his kitchen, to actually be the other side of the tree door. All I have to do is open it and walk through, I don’t even need his key. I begin phasing out of the dream.

False Awakening. Back in the house I’m busy “writing” my dream down along the bottom of a wall in a 3D medium, as I inform Mario when he walks by down the hallway. In the end, I take a bag of corn chips and crumble them, intending to form the fragments into letters, but of course that’s impossible…

Hemeroskopion-Fotolia.comI have no idea how I end up leaving a building holding a full white trash bag. The area is deserted; it’s after hours. The building is white, one story, a very clean storage facility or warehouse of some kind. As I walk to my car, I realize I’m still dreaming, and that I’ve been lucid for so long, I don’t remember a lot of what has happened. I want to dispose of my trash somewhere appropriate, where no animals can get into it and strew it all over the place. I see an area that looks promising and though I can’t completely cover the bag, I at least put it somewhere that appears designated for trash. Satisfied, I walk quickly over to my blue car and, sharply lucid, pull out my keys, very interested to see what they will look like. It is James’ key, of course, though tonight it is embedded as though in a jewel or tool case and I have to open it up like a pen knife. I know it will work, both on the door and the ignition, because it always works for me. I let myself in and am about to turn on the ignition when I lose the dream, again.

Later in the night, I dream I’m telling Mario, Emily and Stinger about my lucid dream. We’re in the rec room and I demonstrate, “See, if this was a dream, I could float up to the ceiling and stay there” as I jump up and down “but obviously we’re awake.” Gravity feels perfectly real. I leave them behind, and as I walk up the steps of a gazebo, I see Emily following me. She is much older and taller. She tosses a dark teddy bear at me, an old gift of mine she still treasures but no longer wants because she’s growing up. I remember that I really want to take her clothes shopping in the large sprawling building just outside the windows (we are now in a spacious airy white living space several stories above the sidewalk) and I stand before her conscious of needing to get her current measurements. Mario has since joined us and tells me that’s not a clothing store but something else. I’m sure it’s a clothing store. I ask Emily if she wants to go shopping with me so I can buy her some clothes. She replies, “If you want to. You don’t have to. But if you do, you should…” and she begins explaining something to me. I begin losing the dream, but not before I hear her say that when I’m buying clothes for her, I should make sure to pick what I would like to wear, and I replied that I always did.

Dream Notes: My brother, Mario, commented:

I like what you said in the dream, “See, if this was a dream, I could float up to the ceiling and stay there” as I jump up and down “but obviously we’re awake” because it’s a really funny way of showing how we may not really know what’s going on, and it can be flipped around to when we’re awake and think that this can’t be a dream, because if it were we would be able to do something like float to the ceiling, but then it may turn out to be a dream even so, a dream with certain rules which we know as the laws of physics.

Dreams & Lives

Dreams & Lives

This 10 minute Film-Poem is about the Supreme act of dreaming. All life as we know it is a dream, and our ability to believe and understand this is what is real – our Inner Self which transcends all created forms. Waking reality, dreams, games, everything is real in the sense that our awareness, our conscious being, is “where” it all happens.

To Hell With Spells

October 7, 2012

In a dream, white room-corridor, the light begins dimming. Hard to describe the sense of impending death and creepiness as I crouch down, hugging myself, even though there is no protection against the gathering, darkly evil supernatural force. In the gray blackness, I see it take form and head right for me in humanoid form. I cringe, but then abruptly straighten up. Something doesn’t feel right. I don’t believe in anything like this. I confront the figure, declaring, “This is a dream!” All my superstitious dread vanishes and my confidence is one-hundred percent that I can fight it, or banish it, or tell it I love it and embrace it, which is what I end up doing, for a moment. “But then again,” I add, “I don’t much like you, so get out! Go!” It runs from me and I forget about it in my new intent, which is to get out of that claustrophobic corridor-room. I don’t know if I follow it or not, but almost right away I come to a window. Smirking inwardly, I Superman my way through it, thinking, ‘Let’s see if I need a spell for this’ knowing perfectly well I won’t, because I intend to go through it, and I do. The sensation is curious, not unpleasant, an undulating semi-liquid-solid feel that lasts longer than the pane is thick, but I’m now outside in that dusk-night of so many lucid dreams.

I soar away from the structure I just emerged from, so pleased to be free and flying in a lucid dream. I’m vaguely aware of trees below me, open nature, because my attention is concentrated on the song I’m hearing, broadcast by the dream itself. The melody is simple and yet arresting, much like a sixties folk-pop song. I concentrate on the lyrics even though I know I won’t be able to remember them in detail. The voice is male and he sings of summer and the final refrain is filled with eloquent longing and appeal that is heart-felt but not afraid or desperate, “Never leave me!”

As I coast through the sky, I point my right index finger down toward the ground, testing to see if I can intend that sparkling violet laser-like shaft of energy. No problem, and I remember to direct it toward my sinuses, irritated by the cold I’m getting over in WR. I can feel the effect it has on my sinuses, a subtle but distinct force-pressure. I’m pleased, but suddenly I think it’s time to do something more important, to travel somewhere, and I think of X’s portal to ancient Egypt and the pyramids. Only thing is, I’m close to the ground and a one-story white building that doesn’t look very inspiring. As I consider where to begin, the dream phases out and I find myself in bed.

I fall asleep almost immediately and suffer a false awakening as I explain to Stinger, and perhaps my sister sitting to the right of me on the couch, that I just had a little lucid dream… Then Stinger is chasing me down a corridor, in a sexy way and telling me that his Guardian in dreams is a fat black woman, so I don’t have to be jealous. Laughing, I let him catch me and pin me back against a wall as I tell him that I know perfectly well that’s not what she looks like. He’s aware of my Guardian Lords and how attracted I am to them. I say, “They’re Guardian Lords, you’re not supposed to be able to resist them.”

Dream Note: That day I had been discussing Rory MacSweeney’s “Chaos Magic” with a few other lucid dreamers. I personally don’t feel the need to bolster my belief with spells chosen to achieve a desired effect; if I really want to achieve something and believe it’s possible, I will, and it is. My dream self immediately verified my point of view. And if I was to use a “spell” I feel it would be much more effective, not to mention easier to remember, if it was my own creation rather than a formula borrowed from another tradition. If I desire and intend something strongly enough, the dream responds. Lugging a growing bag of magic tricks with me into my lucid dreams would become a real drag. Some might consider it fun, might find that “spells” help them focus their intent, but it’s not the spell that succeeds, it’s the belief in the spell. I prefer to believe directly in the powers of my Inner Self.

Music is becoming more frequent in my dreams; this is the second dream this week in which I have clearly heard a melody and lyrics I’m not familiar with in Waking Reality.