OBE? WILD? DILD? What’s in a Name? AND Spiritual Warfare.

Lay awake for a while focusing my inner vision in the way that often generates a WILD.

I’m in a dark space, like adjoining bedrooms. I signal to a woman sitting on the bed—who seems to be waiting for me to do so—that she can begin. I take my place on the floor beside the bed, accompanied by another dark figure, as the woman strips off her clothes, and begins her performance. She mostly stands in place as she dances, with subtle, sensual movements of her arms and torso, which are white and smooth as embodied moonlight. She is slender, and I see the form of her breasts, but no actual nipples. I wonder why I told her to dance for me… She’s closer now, moving through me, and through the bed, at which point I notice she’s wearing a pointed “helmet” reminiscent of the headdresses worn by dancers in Thailand. As I watch her, it dawns on me that she’s my dream body, and that I can follow her out of my physical body, which I realize now is the figure I’ve been crouching beside all this time. My body is a featureless form clad in dark clothing, and I’m able to stand up, and move away from it, without any effort. But I lose the dream.

Still trying to WILD, I find myself in a similar dark room with a woman who distinctly resembles my maternal grandmother. We’re facing each other, almost embracing, but when I suddenly realize she merely represents my physical body, I begin pulling away from her, gently but firmly forcing her to crouch down on the floor against the wall as I separate myself from her, and fully enter the dream space. But no sooner have I done so than some repressive force presses up behind me, and slips heavy “arms” around my shoulders. I say, “My Lord, protect me!” and immediately understand that I’m in no danger – it’s just my physical body resisting the separation.

Still trying to WILD, I slip into a dream scene in which I’m running after a man, following him, as he busily moves from room to room of some industrial-like office building, urgently implementing some plan he has. For revenge? And suddenly I think—This is not my fight. Immediately becoming lucid, I leave him behind, and hurry out of the building through a gray metal door, relieved it was so easy to make it outside.

There is a subdued, somewhat overcast light, and I’m aware only of paths cutting through low hills immediately before me, and some people walking around purposefully. I declare, “My General!” addressing Jesus Christ. But then think I should add, to make myself clear, “My King, my Lord and my God, now and forever!”

I walk along a path, conscious of holding my purse, and of the action of walking, as I ask my Lord if he has any orders, any instructions for me. I focus on a passing woman who is tall, with very short hair, and who possesses an aura of authority, like a troop commander. But she doesn’t even glance at me so, as I continue walking, I ask, “Is there is anything I can do to help Sean move forward and progress in his relationship with you, Lord?” echoing one of the subjects foremost in my mind as I lay awake trying to WILD.

When I get no response of any kind as I keep walking beneath white trees (like the Dogwoods in bloom now on our property) I feel this lack of response is the response: “No, there’s nothing more you can do at the moment.” So I deliberately drop my purse, and begin rising slowly into the air, thinking—Alright, I’ll just relax and enjoy being here. There is a soft, muted golden light around and behind the trees, and I feel better and better, more and more wonderful, as I gradually ascend, turning gently in place, toward the open sky. I feel I want to go all the way up tonight, that I can simply leg go, completely surrender to and become one with this feeling of peace and well being expressed by my dream weightlessness, and I do…

Suddenly, still lucid, I find myself in the midst of an action packed scene taking place in a large, shadowy indoor space akin to a paranormal sports stadium. I’m surrounded by men belonging to two “soccer” teams getting ready to play each other, but I see only red uniforms around me. I’m talking to one man as I move about energetically. I tell him, “I’m tempted to stand behind the goal keeper, and keep out all the balls!” He responds by urging me to be careful, but I just laugh and say, “I’m in my dream body!” Meanwhile, I glimpse Sean standing somewhere to my left, and talking animatedly about Jesus. I can’t remember what he says, but it all seems to be good. He’s wearing red, like all the members of the team I’m supporting. The other team is invisible, for they don’t have physical bodies like we do.

Heading to one side of the space, I walk down a few steps, then stop to look back into the “inner field” where the match is taking place. I’m joyfully followed by a fully mature woman the size of a doll who leaps into my arms and cries, “You’re the best!” The best of something, but I don’t remember now what she said. I caress her sleek, soft black hair as I might a cat, while she talks to me. We are very dear to each other even though we haven’t been together in a long time.

My attention is drawn now to two women kneeling together, as though on a picnic blanket, waiting for the match to recommence. They are near the stairway I’m standing in, and cannot, for some reason, step out of. I’m helpless to do anything about it as I watch a man thrust a long knife beneath the right breast (cupped in a blue bra) of the woman kneeling on the right. A yellowish liquid mixed with blood pours from the wound. I somehow know – in that way of lucid dreams – that she is serving as the living tap for the “beer” everyone will be drinking. The man now smoothly slips his blade beneath the left breast of the other woman, and the same fount of fluid pours straight down from the wound. It is terrible to watch, but the women remain conscious, and look more uncomfortable than in pain.

I now understand this ritual strangely reflects the piercing of Christ’s side on the cross by the Roman soldier from which water and blood poured forth. The mysterious mystical cup of Redemption is the “beer” everyone will be drinking at the match. All of us, in one form or another, suffer with Christ in this life, even as He is the source of our Life, and the reason we, like these two women, will not die, but live forever. It is the presence of the opposing “team” that makes a cruelly sadistic and sexist mockery of that moment on the cross in the way I just observed, using helpless young women – easy victims in the dream space just as they are in waking reality.

I know who the opposing team is now, and they are invisible because they have no physical bodies as we humans do.

Dream Notes:

In lucid dreaming circles, people spend countless hours talking about whether an OBE (Out of Body Experience) is the same as a Lucid Dream, and if a WILD (Wake Induced Lucid Dream) is superior or inferior or more desirable than a DILD (Dream Induced Lucid Dream) since, supposedly, you have control over a WILD but not a DILD. And then there is the relationship between an OBE, and even a WILD, with the phenomena of Sleep Paralysis. On this particular night, I ran the full gauntlet of all of the above, which wove quite seamlessly into each other like stages, or steps, in the same mysterious process.

Personally, I believe there are degrees of separation, and that a DILD is simply not being conscious of the first stages of that separation.

The sensations of an OBE are akin to an old Apollo rocket, vibrations, loud noises, slow and dramatic.

A WILD is more like slipping into the seat of a spaceship cruising in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming – between the earth’s atmosphere and the starry universe – and timing it just right to land in one of the dream landscapes passing before us.

A DILD is my preferred method, and the most common in my dream practice. It’s like being a first class passenger suddenly landing in a dream vacation without any effort, as smoothly as being dropped off by a magical black limousine.

Regarding the two teams or sides pitted against each other – one of which was invisible – I really don’t need to explain it to Christians. Other religions also recognize that there are hostile non-physical entities/ forces/energies, etc. encountered by the dreaming soul. Even materialist/atheist lucid dreamers will agree that, in dreams, we can confront subconscious thoughts and impulses hindering us from being happier, more successful, etc. in waking life. The concept of the subconscious, bound to the physical body and brain, is essentially materialism trying to integrate the notion of spirituality.

As a Catholic because of my lucid dreams, I believe in spiritual warfare. 

Lunar Healing – Night 1

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 minuteI 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.

Dream Notes:

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.