Note: I am now waiting up to 5 months before posting my lucid dreams. This means I am always approximately 25 lucid dreams behind.
November 11, 2013 – First Quarter Moon
Poem of Intent written the day before:
Lunar Healing Pool
I envision a personal pool outside time and the rec room
framed now with bricks instead of Egyptian limestone
an ardent spring of universes in its self-contained depths
Rising from the bed and brain in which I’m lucid dreaming
I’ll glide through the glass door to this pool of my imagining
and submerge my ageless body in its womb of darkness
A Divine life force reflected with intent by the moon of my mind
flowing into the creative channeling of my present physical form
will convey transcendent signals to my cells to right all wrongs
Surfing HI (hypnagogic imagery) between 3:30 and 5:00. After the first wave, I’m plunged into a mini-dream that seems to begin inside a dark church. Just outside it sits a cart (like the kind in the Middle Ages used to haul away the corpses of poor plague victims) with the single body of a man lying in it. I fling myself upon it, crying out my grief, in that instant merging with this young woman. Then I’m a disembodied awareness observing a man in the church peering out through a large keyhole at this woman as he realizes that she really did love his now dead son… I return to my own awareness in the gray-white limbo between waking and sleeping.
I ride the next HI into a WILD by listening attentively to the voice of a woman striving to communicate with me through the speaker I keep next to my lucid dreaming bed. I can hear her voice distinctly and “move” my attention toward it, able to grasp most of what she is saying. I am fully aware that listening to her is pulling me into a dream, as is the chaos of her little girl throwing a tantrum in the background. The sounds are completely real, and I get the feeling they’re broadcasting from as far away as Australia? I become aware of lying on a dream bed floating a few feet off the floor and moving in a circular clock-wise direction, sort of like a flying carpet taking off. I can see a room below me, colorless but distinct, furnished differently from the rec room, but I am confident I can “turn it into” the rec room as I look down on while sitting up. But then I lay back down again thinking it might be too soon. I repeat this action at least twice before making an effort to rise off the bed and walk into the scene, but the dream current reverses direction and I “land” on the shore between waking and sleeping.
Soon after, I become aware of working in the kitchen. I pull a small casserole out of the oven filled with baking spinach, just in time; it looks perfect. I transfer the spinach into a cast iron skillet to finish cooking it but notice a black string lying in the pan, and also that the kitchen is dark… Wait a minute… I must be dreaming. At once I walk out into the living room, which is not as dark; the house is lit as though by a dim ambient moonlight washing out all colors. It is my real house, and in my eagerness to see if the healing pool I envisioned is out in the courtyard, I fly into the rec room even though I know I risk destabilizing the dream by not walking instead. I fly over my lucid dreaming bed and intend to pass right through the glass door as I described myself doing in my Poem of Intent. The glass doesn’t really present a barrier but it takes a few seconds, and through the green curtain, as I pass through it, I see the pool, very close to where I imagined it would be but at a different angle, vertical to my perspective instead of horizontal. I see it clearly in a pale illumination akin to moonlight. It is the size of a narrow bathtub and lined with a white stone border. The whole courtyard is moon-white. As I float outside, I lose sight of the pool as I look down at a naked woman sitting parallel to the pool’s top edge, her legs slightly bent and her arms stretched out behind her in a pose people often adopt at the beach while sunbathing, only she is moon-bathing. There is something crude-looking about her profile but she is obviously me, some approximation of my “grosser” physical body, as opposed my light dream body floating just above it. Then once again the dream’s gravity catches me like a breaking wave and hauls me back to that shore between sleeping and waking.
Riding more HI, I am “plunged” into a dream scene where a man is aware of my efforts to WILD and is mysteriously assisting me. He tells me he is monitoring my blood pressure. As he helps me lie face down again on a narrow bed, I say, “Well, you know it’s going to skyrocket. That’s just how it is.” I distinctly feel one of his hands resting on my left leg as I sink back into HI, which soon resolves into a WILD again. I’m walking through my dark house into a bathroom that is across the hall from where it really is, like a reflection. The door is open onto the corridor, and I grip the left side of the frame to grab hold of the dream scene. I clearly see my hands, flesh-toned in the dimness. Yes, my hands… I should keep sight of them to ground me in the dream. I turn left and touch the wall as I deliberately walk, not fly, down to the end of the corridor, where I grip the edge of the wall. I make it almost all the way to rec room before I lose the dream, again.
Riding more HI, I find myself lying in bed. I get up to use the bathroom, but when I flip the light switch up nothing happens. Oh my God, reality check… this time I actually catch this recurring dream sign. I’m dreaming. I walk back out into a room that is a cross between my living room and a slightly larger public room. I lose almost all visuals, but I have already seen some people milling around so I reach out and ask with polite urgency, “Does anyone know how I can get some visuals?” I repeat this request several times as I walk around, and every time I ask this question, I see a little more of my environment in the form of distinct colors, first in a face and then in the electronic device a woman sitting at a small bar is holding on which are displayed red and yellow colors. I move over to the bar and, grabbing hold of it, I am almost completely present in the dream. A short older female bartender with cropped blonde hair walks up to me, and takes my hands for a moment in response to my query. She is very nice and I feel more present in the dream the longer I interact with her. When I ask my question again, she says, “Have you touched any objects sacred to us?” I regret to have to answer, “No” because I don’t think I have. Once again, I lose the dream.
At some indeterminate point in my HI surfing there occurred a distinct but hard to describe lucid experience. I am lying face down but instead of a bed beneath me there is what feels like a “portal” into another reality or world, and a woman facing “up” toward me is trying to pull me into it; trying to get me to join her there. Our dialogue purely telepathic, I receive images of disease, hardship, environmental poisoning, and I hastily inform her that I live up in the mountains, where conditions are still good. She replies that I am referring to my current reality but that in her world, which I am also inhabiting at the same time in a kind of parallel universe, the conditions are extremely harsh. Though I know she is right, I am intensely reluctant to immerse myself in an existence which is a negative reflection, the exact opposite, of the life I am fully conscious of now as Maria Isabel Pita.
I have never deliberately imagined and succeeded in “conjuring” a specific dream scene before, one that is a combination of my waking reality and my imagination. I am very excited that I succeeded in manifesting the moonlit healing pool I envisioned, and even saw what appeared to be my physical body sitting next to it, as though waiting for my dream body to arrive and perform the healing ritual I described in my Poem of Intent. On my first attempt, in a night of WILDS all interesting in their own way, like seeds of what’s to come. It is interesting to note that the pool was in the same spot and position where I often park my car, my physical vehicle. It was also right next to Stinger’s workshop, which also makes sense, since in these dreams I want to work on my physical body. Especially fascinating is that my waking self conceived of this pool and its purpose, and my dreaming self brought it forth but made some seemingly minor changes that are, in fact, symbolically relevant. This is the most consciously I have integrated my waking self and my dreaming self, and it is quite an exciting partnership! There seems no end to what this greater “I” can do.
The dreams were short but there was an intriguing recurring element that was not symbolic but quite literal:
- the woman communicating with me through a speaker and pulling me into the dream space
- the man helping me WILD and monitoring my blood pressure pressing my leg to root me in a dream
- the bartender who took my hand to help me with visuals and asked about the sacred objects
All these dream entities seemed intent on helping me. I am learning to surf HI and to WILD on a more regular basis. Until recently, most of my lucid dreams were DILDs. If I can succeed in mastering WILDs, I feel I will have more success with manifesting intended locations and scenarios, so it’s important. And thrilling to be able to do it without any supplements at all.