A Lucid Dream Journey To My Deceased Mum-in-Law

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A Lucid Dream Journey To My Deceased Mum-in-Law

Postby Summerlander » 23 Nov 2016 22:47

Tuesday, 22 November


I had a series of lucid dreams this morning using lucid dream-chaining techniques. I'm quite pleased with my success despite the fact that I had no action plan and plenty of reason for hesitation. But as I jubilantly soared over majestic canyons and limpid urban landscapes, it occurred to me to experiment with the infinity symbol as suggested by Rebecca Turner.

So I draw the symbol in the sky with my index finger but nothing grand happens as a result other than the emergence of an umbrageous afterimage in my visual field. Feeling slightly discomfited, I glide towards it---breaking the tenuous illusion---and head for a group of intricate exosphere clouds which partially veil the dream cosmos. Despite my tremendous flying speed, I seem unable to reach space and get caught in a fractal loop instead; there is a sense of movement in a particular direction but the same cloud formation reemerges.

Infinity! So I let myself go with this flow and a meditative trance sweeps over me. It feels like an all-powerful mind beckons to me as it simultaneously sucks me in to its core like a black hole. But as I begin to surrender, the realisation that there is no such thing hits me. It's all me! These are my subconscious currents. I feel like a primordial void aware of the things that happen in it. I sense the dream world fading.

As I frantically rub my hands together in a desperate attempt to rescue the lucid dream state, I receive tactile and auditory sensations first in the pervading darkness followed by the appearance of an iridescence that slowly transmutes into a pair of rubbing hands. I move onto building the rest of my dream body through palpation, completing the proprioceptive illusion that I'm standing on solid ground, which is subsequently stomped by ostensibly substantive feet.

The dream world comes to life with the vibrant colours of a busy town centre surrounding me. I come upon some sort of festival where I mingle with dream characters and briefly lose my lucidity. Luckily, it dawns on me to ask myself, 'What am I doing here?' which is subsequently answered with the recognition of dreaming. I can't help my urge to fly jubilantly again ...

I land in an urban area resembling a road that in reality leads to the secondary school I went to. I talk to representations of former schoolmates but nothing meaningful on their part is worth mentioning here. I lost contact with many of them in waking life and this lucid dream episode was merely a tad nostalgic. The dream environment begins to evanesce and I do what I can to fight the void. I almost throw in the towel when I think I can see the back of my eyelids, but something tells me to persevere, causing me to aggressively and literally pull a 'dream wool' over my eyes, instantaneously replacing the aphotic void. (Lucid dreaming neophytes, take heed!)

With an aslant blue sky and earth view---I feel like I'm skydiving. The panorama is now a depot which I'm eager to explore. Its interior is redolent of 'The Getaway' game and a bunch of stout gangsters pop up out of nowhere. Everybody starts kung fu fighting for a few seconds before the environment turns vague and flying fists become sketchy and essentially nothing but little currents of air gradually losing realism. Proprioceptive motion remains as I attempt to revive the dream world in a half-arsed manner.

I feel I have failed; my body is lying in bed and I open my eyes to see that my wife is getting ready to take the kids to school. I want to get dressed but seem unable to find my clothes---the house is eerily different. It dawns on me that I've just had a false awakening and now I'm lucid in another dream. I glance at the bed and notice two adjacent television sets where the headboard should be. They are on but their screens are too bright to distinguish the broadcast and the beamed commentary is unintelligible. I reach out to the screens to find that they feel like rubber to the touch. So I playfully pinch the lambent rubbery surfaces with both hands and stretch them out of the TV sets as much as I can. The 'rubber' quickly loses its luminosity as this one seems to run along the elasticated material and back into the goggle boxes. Subsequently, there's a crack and the machines fizzle out. It's no longer my bedroom and, unlike the real world, the environment is on the ground floor. I pass through a window and start examining the house from the outside. It's a white and dark brown, picturesque structure with architectural ornaments made of wood and slate; there aren't many windows to be found; and a porch canopy resembles a giant arrow hatting a wooden front door. 'I'm going to pass through the front door like a ghost!' I excitedly say to myself.

As I slide through the wooden surface, there is an ensuant buzzing sound. I'm walking through a hallway and hear voices presumably coming from a living-room---its door is ajar but it never occurs to me to take a peek. Having just decided to act like a ghost has given me the idea of summoning Sandra, my deceased mother-in-law. The surroundings flicker like a mirage and I fear that the lucid dream might collapse. To remedy the instability, I frantically touch objects and even do a somersault in order to preserve proprioception. I glide up a staircase and explore the rooms on the upper floor. Surprisingly, the interior resembles my abode again.

I start looking for my mum-in-law and, meaning to call out her name, I erroneously say, 'Nanny Marge?' Oops! Wrong one. 'Sandra? Sandra?' Silence. I enter a replica of my sons' bedroom wishing to see my mum-in-law. It's empty. I run downstairs and look up the staircase---telling myself that I must believe she is up there---and call out one more time, 'Sarnd?'

'Yes, Lin?'

The reply came from upstairs and the voice was unmistakeable! She would address me as 'Lin' and she would also respond in that familiar soothing tone. I try to overcome my emotions as I rush up the stairs and into the bedroom. She's not alone, but as soon as I enter the room, I see a dark figure vanishing right next to her. Sandra is sitting on the bed, looking stronger and younger than she did in her last dying days. She stares at a drip in front of her---a scene evocative of an awareness that that burdensome chapter of her life is over. 'Alright, Lin?' She echoed the last words she uttered to me when she was alive. I move closer and she adds, 'I was wondering when you were going to come!'


I stare at her face not believing my eyes and ears. Here's a dream character (Sandra's psychological 'imprint' on me) unlike the numerous oneiric 'zombies' I've met, who tend to say what the dreamer thinks. Not this one. This one appears to have my mother-in-law's autonomy, looks, voice and ... spirit. I do not know what she'll say next nor do I try to guess. I simply embrace her. She wraps her arms around me in a tight, comforting cuddle. I'm not letting go. She remarks with an idiosyncratic chuckle, 'You won't want to let go now, will ya, you silly sod!'


I say with emotional laughter. (I'm still holding her.) I pause to look at her face and feel so happy. The lucid dream is fading but I'm not concerned as I'm mesmerised by the dream figure before me. And then, regarding my wife, she finally says:

'Look after Stace ...'

I'm staring at the back of my eyelids, surprised at my success, exhilirated, and calmly recalling my oneiric adventure.
"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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