The Guru, the Spinning Dice, and Mr. Singh

Tell us about your first lucid dream - and your latest. We want all the juicy details. Also share results of dream challenge experiments.
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The Guru, the Spinning Dice, and Mr. Singh

Postby Summerlander » 28 Jun 2014 23:14


In the evening of the previous day, there was a family party for my sister-in-law Sharon, who had come up from Cornwall to attend my wedding, and is now about to leave. I drank a whole bottle of Rose table wine and felt tipsy. Back home, I made love to my wife, fell asleep and had a series of dreams. The latest two dreams were vivid and the most memorable. In the first vivid dream, me and my wife were preparing food for Christmas and our residence was different. The fridge was full and Stacey told me not to worry because meat was being kept in a cold storage room outside the house. I went outside to check on the meat and saw houses surmounted with snow. I was worried about foxes contaminating the meat so I voiced my concern to Stacey. She assured me no foxes would come but that’s when we saw one approaching the house. Unexpectedly, two wolves appeared and killed the fox by tearing it apart. Muzzily, I got up around 7am to use the toilet and went back to bed.

Despite being groggy, I decided to try entering the phase state. Instead, I fell asleep and had the second vivid dream. I was being accompanied by a guru in India (or my idea of India because I have never been there). After showing me around, he took me to a small temple to meditate. We sat on a rug with images of Hindu deities and mandalas on it. During my meditation, the wise guru asked me what I thought being enlightened meant. I gave him my best guess by saying that enlightenment is the realisation of oneness, of being more in touch with the whole, and that one does not need to seek any profound truth in the objective world as everything can be found within us. He told me to look deep within, and, when I closed my eyes, I felt at peace. “Do you feel the stillness within?” - the seasoned voice enquired. The world seemed to stop and I experienced an inward stillness. I felt empty and free. No concepts burdened me for a brief moment before an overwhelming joy filled my heart. The enlightening sensation caused me to levitate. The guru shared my exhilaration as we both had realised what had happened. I had become enlightened in my dream. Exultantly, I stood up to look at myself in one of the temple’s mirrors. My jaw dropped at my reflection for it possessed a dozen eyes, and yet, I remained ignorant of being in the dream state.

I was eager to tell people about my experience so I ran out of the temple. Outside, my mobile rang and it was Stacey asking me to meet her at a stadium. I was there instantly, and saw a lot of Indian people playing football in the pitch. There were chairs for spectators and drinks were being sold at a sheltered bar. Stacey showed up and I told her about my “awakening” experience but she wasn’t interested. My mobile rang again and the caller was for her. While she spoke on the phone, I watched the match. Eventually, one of the players invited me to join his team. I also heard someone mention that my stepfather Sergio would be playing but I never saw him. During the game, I kept thinking about my “enlightenment” and didn’t even pay attention to where the ball went. This led to the partial awareness of a nagging thought which ostensibly robbed the profound effect of my previous experience with the guru and almost killed its significance: “Apparently I’ve been enlightened, but, so what? What now?”

Approaching the mandala-adorned stadium walls, the realisation of gradually losing sight hit me and I became lucid. Immediately, I rubbed the pale blue bricks in front of me in order to remain in the phase state. Touching chairs, tables, and the shelter’s pillars seemed to help the geometry on the walls become more defined. Time seemed to have stopped when I glanced at the footballers in the pitch. They resembled motionless zombies. As vision blurred again, I felt that exiting the phase state was imminent if I didn’t perform a technique that would help me to remain there for longer. Right next to me happened to be one of the zombie players and I grabbed his arm. Rubbing the character’s shirt sleeve restored visual clarity whereupon I glided towards the bar, and, on noticing some bottles, chalices and glasses, decided to smash one of them to see what would happen. Throwing a wine glass against a pillar caused the little object to shatter - as one would expect. The way in which the shards of glass scattered on the floor, however, seemed odd to me.

An Asian-looking lady asked me if everything was okay. I didn’t engage in conversation, opting to feel her hair and body instead. She stood still and did not react to what I was doing. Her taciturnity was typical of lucid dream characters being groped or carefully studied and did not surprise me. Suddenly, I awoke and heard myself snoring loudly - the side effect of inebriant-induced dehydration. I remained motionless and recalled the inward stillness experienced in the dream prior to the phase state. I relived the dream as best as I remembered it but from the perspective of a lucid dreamer. (I was attempting to use Stephen LaBerge’s MILD method in order to re-enter the phase state.) It wasn’t long before I experienced the unmistakable sensation of levitation.

I seemingly exited the sleeping body by floating out and assumed a different position in order to prevent being pulled back in. Standing in a hazy version of my room, I rubbed my hands together and blew on them. The lucid dream gained a little depth, but, objects displayed ghostly contours. A red dice I picked up from the TV stand, which spun constantly between my thumb and index in a way that would have defied the laws of physics had it been actual, showed no sign of becoming inert. The spinning was fast but fragmented and unlike the continuous diamond-shaped obnubilation observed when a dice is spun in the physical realm. A window ledge and a wall were out of focus as I rubbed them at arm’s length. There was no improvement until I observed the objects at a distance of about six inches while perceiving their solidity with my hands. Michael Raduga’s tactic worked as the hallucinatory environment surpassed the waking world in quality.

In bed lay two bodies under blankets, and, above them, on the wall, were posters of Walt Disney characters where my art about lucid dreaming should have been. The posters were colourful, vivid, and stood out against the cadmium blue wall - particularly the reds and the indigo. The images clearly resembled the way in which I had drawn Disney characters as a child. The closer inspection of one of them revealed Donald Duck and his nephews furiously chasing Uncle Scrooge out of their house. Some objects were being hurled at the old miser, who held on to his hat as he sought refuge. I chuckled at both the humour and the fact that I was looking at cartoons in a lucid dream.

Drifting into the hallway, I was confronted by my large mirror and saw that my reflection was missing. I entered the mirror to find myself in a different house where the interior was mostly lime green and exuded an oneiric atmosphere. (The movie “The Matrix” entered my mind at the time.) There was a corridor leading to other rooms and daylight oozed from a spatious kitchen. I shouted “hello” several times but the sound I gave off was closer to that of a whisper. As I approached translucent doors leading to the back of the house, I fouled and could hear myself snoring again. It was poetic. I didn’t even feel rough at 9.05am, which makes me wonder if the phase state prevents - and is a remedy for - hangovers. Waking up from a lucid dream is usually invigorating for me anyway.

I made some notes in my journal and thought about the guru character in my dream. He could have represented a wise aspect of my personality or even my philosophical mood at the time. He certainly got my attention to an undeniably blissful stillness which can be accessed deep within the psyche once all distractions are discarded. Perhaps it’s a good idea to contact this element of my subconscious again. Nothing in real life compares with such encounter (it wouldn’t anyway where dream-dwelling impossibilities are concerned) and that dream character impressed upon me the trait of being every bit a sage as I had ideally hoped he would be. The religious experience of praying, chanting, and venerating deities - that many people share in the real world by attending churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples - is no match for the profundity that I experienced. (Or at least what religion has to offer is not my kind of spirituality.)

To illustrate my point, I’ll spin a yarn about a particular workday in the 2014 World Cup season. At lunchtime, Mr. Singh, one of the regulars in my betting shop, told me about a local gurdwara where free food is offered. I asked him kindly if he would show me how to get there as I was also in the mood to learn something about a different culture and belief. Mr. Singh could do better: “I’ll have lunch with you there and show you around.” On the way to the temple, Mr. Singh told me stories about Guru Nanak and the foundation of Sikhism. (I felt that his faith had made a puritan out of him.) The temple read “Gurdwara Nanaksar” and he explained to me that it means “House of the Guru / Nanak’s Place.” We entered the building, took our shoes off, and I was made to wrap my head with an orange cloth. I could pass for a Sikh!

The interior was characterised by ample halls and silence pervaded the air. (I remembered Karl Pilkington on foreign land in “An Idiot Abroad” and imagined myself wearing his disgruntled visage.) A code of conduct had to be followed by all and to me the whole ritual was redolent of the totalitarian dystopia depicted by George Orwell in his “1984” novel: like poor Orwell’s Wilson, I felt compelled to feign the belief in a higher power. (Mr. Singh was the only person there who knew that I don’t believe in God.) Besides being an excellent guide and translator, Mr. Singh was considerate enough to say, “Do as I do.” And so it was that we bowed before God after making a little voluntary donation - the introduction of which came with the piffle that their charity is divinely inspired. (At the time, I recalled my Betfred manager mentioning to me that an old acquaintance had died and part of his will was to tithe his local temple, which, to my mind, makes perfectly clear the fact that the more people are brainwashed by religious dogmatism, the longer gurdwaras will be able to sustain the admirable reputation of free food and charity - it is a cycle!)

Dissonant music began to fill the air and we saw that children were learning about instruments and being creative. I found myself more captivated by the sounds partially assaulting my ears than the fabulous stories of divine revelation by proxy and “living gurus” knowing exactly what liturgy to employ in order to appease God and render their people untouchable by their enemies. Mr. Singh led me to another hall with a kitchen where he addressed the cook and a few acquaintances in Punjabi. The cook served us chapattis, rice, vegetable curry, lentil soup, chunks of melon, and a peculiarly nutritious amber sweet. We sat down and talked about things we had in common, such as, humanistic values and a strong dislike for the concept of jihad in Islam. (Although Mr. Singh seemed more intent on blaming politicians than acknowledge that religious zealots are in fact devoutly religious.) He told me that Sikhs have a duty to see to it that justice prevails “not just in this world but in the entire universe.” (My mind decided to be satirically comical by playing the Star Wars theme-tune at this point.)

Mr. Singh enjoys thinking that he derives his morality from his faith - and indeed thinking himself as a Sikh as a symbol of great honour and righteousness came across as partially conceited - but I felt that deep down he is a good person who happens to strongly resonate with the ethics conveyed in Sikhism. His practice of meditation is, however, laced with mysticism and superstition. His worldview can often make him utter absurdities. “With my third eye I can often see the winners and then I place my bets.” (One wonders why he’s not filthy rich by now.) And then he continues oxymoronically: “But sometimes I think God is angry, and then I lose…” (At least gambling is a hobby which he feels he’s in control of.) Eventually we headed back to the betting shop and I thanked him for the company. Needless to say, what the Sikh preachers offer is hardly appealing to me. The adventures of Guru Nanak were also hardly profound and more akin to childish fairytales. Mr. Singh struck me as a good man, albeit slightly naïve.

THE PHASE STATE = lucid dreaming; out-of-body experience; astral projection.
"Empty cognizance of one taste, suffused with knowing, is your unmistaken nature, the uncontrived original state. when not altering what is, allow it to be as it is, and the awakened state is right now spontaneously present."

- Padmasambhava

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