After arriving home from work at 11pm (previous day), I had a ham and cheese sandwich and a cappuccino. Before going to bed at 1.50am, I mentally rehearsed my plan of action for the phase. The first step involves travelling to the octangular point of arrival within my devised metaphysical workshop where I will enter the art gallery that makes up one of its rooms. My plan is, quite intentionally, to be shown - by Salvador Dali - a manifest idea for a piece of art that I’m yet to produce physically: the “Cat City” painting (which will subliminally illustrate the lucid dream I had on my wedding day).
What unfolded this time, however, was very different, and, after several failed attempts to pursue my goal, I had no choice but to do away with it on this occasion and meander through the phase space instead. What had happened when I was so gung-ho about translocating to my desired environment? Perhaps my phase workshop expectancy was still outweighed by the lingering expectation of encountering some sort of extention of the replicated abode inside the hallway mirror. Consequently, and perhaps ultimately subconsciously, the successful manifestation of the desired outcome from further translocation attempts was discouraged. This seems to demonstrate that the mind can be difficult to tame and some sort of balance must be achieved in order to obtain more control.
I fell into a deep sleep that night and arose at 5.30am feeling groggy and remembering bewildering thoughts, instead of full-fledged dreams, which I felt were somehow relevant to recent waking life occurrences. I used the toilet and made some notes in my journal. After a quarter of an hour, I returned to bed with the intention to enter the phase. After a little time in progressive relaxation and contemplation of an imagined object, I was enveloped by a hypnotic trance before a sudden moment of clear-headedness marked the threshold of vibrations. At that point, I strained the brain (not literally, of course, but only as a controlled sensation) in order to intensify the vibrational state prior to exiting the body by rising up and out of bed.
Vision was fuzzy so I appealed for clarity whilst employing my usual friction of the hands technique to propagate phase depth. It worked and clarity revealed a bedroom that gave the impression of looking virtually the same as the actual one. The hallway just outside the room, however, told a different story. The magnolia walls were abhorrent to the light green surfaces of the real world, and, the mirror was extremely large and unusually reflective. I thought of the mirror as a way to get to the workshop before plunging into its reflective surface. The other side revealed a mere extention of the dream abode as I perceived it. It was devoid of furniture and could be thought of as a spare room. Its appearance closely matched my daughter’s bedroom and made me wonder if what was before me was a residual and imagined possible future subconsciously created from a recent conversation I had with my wife about the time when our kids will grow up and leave home.
A window revealed a foggy night and a bright silvery moon could be seen above some ultra realistic clouds that resembled conglomerates of myriad bubbles. I dove into the wall on my left, hoping to find the workshop, but came across a narrower version of the same room instead. I passed through the next wall and observed an even ridiculously smaller version of yet the same room, with the absence of a window this time. Why were the room versions getting smaller at the element of surprise? A feasible explanation is that I wanted the room versions to disappear altogether in order to translocate to the workshop at once. But why was such room environment being monotonously persistent? What caused it to be repetitiously present and to what ends? Was it random or product of mental error? This makes me wonder about the degrees in which the phase reflects our psychology. I imagine that a mental loop - in the sense of a programmed preconscious sequence of a phase setup in repetition - was at play and possibly triggered from finding the first version of the room annoying and yet intriguing. More along the lines of Occam’s razor, it could have simply been the idea of “dream abode extension continues” lodged in my mind or even trial and error that would have gradually helped me to achieve the desired result in the end had I not fouled so abruptly.
I felt the bed beneath my back and a vibrational momentum. I arose, and, in doing so, reentered the phase. I gazed at the floor and palpated parts of my perceived body in order to deepen the state. Vision clarified as a result, and, after gliding into the hallway, I saw my reflection in a mirror that was more true to life. My face was spot on, perhaps a little more youthful, and my hairstyle was different as I sported longish hair curtains. I abstained from mirror-translocation on this occasion as I recalled the last fiasco and opted to explore the bedroom where my sons sleep. It looked the same at the time, but later, in wakefulness, I would realise that there had been some inconsistencies, namely, the absence of curtains covering the window.
I stroked my eldest son’s head as he lay asleep even though I was perfectly aware that it wasn’t him, but rather, a thought form representing the memory of the real thing in my mind. I passed through the window, and, as I flew over a forest and grassland in the night, I noticed floodlights that kept multicoloured funfairs out of the shadows. I could see huge water slides, rollercoasters, merry-go-rounds and huts that - in imagination - were presumably used for supplying food and beverages. I looked back at what represented my house and neighbourhood and saw trampolines and toys in the back garden areas. I rubbed my hands in flight to remain anchored to the phase but lost control and took a nosedive. Eventually, in a fight-or-flight state, I fouled before I could reach the ground below.
A hissing pulsation was present as I remained still under the bedspread. I intensified vibrations by straining the brain and separated from the body that I perceived to be lying in bed. I didn’t think it was necessary to employ deepening techniques and exited the bedroom to plunge into the anomalously large hallway mirror. I was still intent on reaching the workshop and set my mind on believing that I should be able to do whatever I want in the phase. Disappointingly, another extention of the phase home was what I found. I went through a wall and found myself in an utterly different and unfamiliar house interior.
A deluxe living room replete with opulent furniture, leather sofas and marble coffee tables, surrounded me. A balcony revealed a nighttime exterior which was the source of the moonlight that bathed the room. A quick scan of the environment revealed two adjacent doorways. I went through the most interesting one and found a pretty lady soundly asleep in a large bed. I swiftly glided into the next room and found a dark-haired man sleeping on a dark blue tattered couch. I decided to be naughty and grab the man by the legs in order to drag him across the floor. He seemed to grumble in a muzzy state and didn’t put up much of a fight so I left him on the floor to go back to sleep.
The wall from where I had first emerged in the lavish living room setup had mysteriously changed. There was now a bathroom with a bright white light on and sky blue tiles made up its walls. I made my way there, whilst looking at my hands and rubbing them together, and marvelled at the realism of their pores, wrinkles, fingernails and cuticles. Everything about my dream hands told me that they really existed. I rubbed the surface of the bathroom door and felt its coldness. Above a sink, a mirror-cabinet displayed my supposed smiling reflection with a mismatching hairline. After going through a blue wall and thinking about my interesting reflection, I quickly fell into a dream state.
After a brief moment in mental maelstrom, I landed non-lucidly in a vivid plot with a setup that resembled the university I went to years ago. I was walking alongside a bevy of people towards a bus station right next to a hospital. Feeling a little lost and not wanting to be late for work, I worried about getting the right bus. The sun had barely risen and the atmosphere gave the impression that it was all taking place in the early hours of the morning. A woman was telling me about her sexual frustration and asked me if I would oblige in intercourse with her. I told her I was married and that she should take her mind off her frustration.
I sat with the others by the station square and a miserable rugged man was giving everyone a hard time. People told him to calm down to no avail as he seemed mad at the world. Politely, I asked him what the problem was and he produced a newspaper that displayed the picture of a bearded three-eyed being of blue complexion to explain that, when the time comes for the creature to open his third eye, the world would be destroyed. He asked me if I knew who Max Cavalera was, and, after revealing to him that Max is a Brazilian heavy metal musician, I was quizzed about my knowledge.
The others broke into the conversation to tell the man they also knew Max and that he fronted bands such as Sepultura and Soulfly. The bad-tempered bloke proceeded to explain that Max had retreated to a large cannabis farm where he would spend the rest of his days smoking dope because he knew the end was nigh as aliens planned to invade our planet and solely attack large cities.
Was my subconscious mind providing me with ammunition to return to lucidity? I almost laughed at the man as I realised it was all a dream. This realisation spurred me to take off and fly like a bullet towards the second floor of a nearby building and enter a children’s play centre setup to my surprise. As I moved through the air, I closed my eyes and reopened them in a last bid to translocate to the phase workshop. A shroud of darkness erased the play centre environment and lingered. I rubbed my hands and attempted to see them apart from already feeling the friction and the warmth my action was producing.
Soon, white light gradually emerged in the shape of arms and hands, faint and granular at first, like TV static, and then, bright and colourful along with the emergence of vivid and strikingly detailed surroundings. I was standing in an immense floor replete with desks, chairs, computers and filing cabinets. Some of the space was partitioned off to form little individual offices and exuded an air of dynamism and professionalism. I blasted off through the white ceiling and encountered another deserted corporate environment. I explored its rooms and corridors until I ended up on a sheltered balcony that overlooked a daytime urban landscape.
Through the railing, I looked down and realised that I was at a great height in a skyscraper storey. I could make out streets and parked vehicles in them. All was stationary apart from a red car, that I thought looked like a Fiat Uno, which appeared to be driving cautiously towards the arched underside of a metal bridge. Suddenly, I was back in my body and experienced strong vibrations.
I rolled over and out to encounter another play area for children. I wondered why that was such a recurring theme for me in the phase. I passed through a wall in order to explore the external world and came upon a grey sky and rain. The scenery was very dull as the streets seemed devoid of colour. Magically, the sky dimmed out to become a marvellous starry canvas and the rain turned to snow. The roofs were now white and the pavements were covered in snow and I humorously thought: “Christmas is here.” I was able to leave intricately beautiful footprints on the snowy surface, and, on hearing laughter, I looked up to behold adults and children wearing hats and gloves and playing together in the snow.
I heard people commenting on the beauty of the night and experienced a profound nostalgia that I can’t quite put into words but it seems to involve the longing to see through the eyes of a child again. People merrily engaged in snow fights with each other and I smiled. I noticed that the spherical streetlights had snowcaps and found their light shining through the gaps endearing. I felt the urge to fly over the city and get lost in a sea of stars, so, to revel in that liberation, I took off.
During flight, a peculiarity in the phase world caught my eye. People were standing and walking on roofs as if it was the normal thing to do. It gave me the impression that I was in a parallel universe where different physical laws operate - especially when I noticed that, not only were the inhabitants of that world strolling over roofs, some of them assumed horizontal positions in order to walk on vertical surfaces rather than climb them.
I landed on a roof with quite a few saunterers and noticed a middle aged man coming towards me. He was like a computer-generated cartoon that acted like he couldn’t see me, and, the closer he got, the more I thought of him as a moving prop in a stage set. I moved closer to him to inspect his face and pinched his cheeks. He displayed a mild semblance of anger and looked at me as though he was now a sentient being. The phase quickly faded and I woke up feeling fresh and content with my experience.
For example, a person may feel like they have spent an hour lucidly gallivanting in dreamland when in actual fact, when they consider the number of actions and how long they would have taken from the wakeful perspective, the whole experience might have taken no longer than a couple of minutes.
Try sitting in front of the clock (in reality) and watch the hand go round. Think of how many things you can do in a minute. A minute can be a long time in the phase, especially when you can do things very quickly there.
Ten minutes in the phase can make an oneironaut think he's spent about three hours in that state.
We can experience the realism of fruit as though it were actual but what does it represent? Why did it manifest in the dream world? What does it mean to us, how does it make us feel? Perhaps an apple in one lucid dream represents or comes from somewhere completely different to another apple that manifests in another lucid dream (same individual).
I believe dreams are connected to our subconscious mind and can reflect our psychology.
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