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    Lucid Dreams

    1. The Forgetful Analysand

      by , 10-15-2019 at 06:16 AM
      I see Carl Gustav Jung. He is very tall and skinny, but his head is that of Jung. I become lucid and get in his face and say, "Tell me something!" He stares at me. I repeat, "Tell me something!" So he speaks to me in the second-person number. I wake up but am too lazy to write down his analysis and by morning (several sleep cycles later) have forgotten what he said.
    2. Turtles in Red Square

      by , 08-18-2019 at 10:58 PM

      I'm traversing the little-known border between the eastern U.S. and Russia. In the distance I see Tsarist architecture with two statues of angels in a courtyard. Between the angels stands a statue I think might be Lenin with his standard outstretched arm, but I'm not quite close enough to make it out. Then I notice yellow traffic turtles on the pavement and other barriers and fear I may have strayed onto Russian territory without crossing the border legally, so I beat a hasty retreat.

      Walking down a corridor I become lucid, close my eyes and ask to see the Lenin statue up close but nothing happens.

      Updated 02-09-2020 at 07:25 PM by 92227

      Tags: lenin, lucid
    3. Give Me Jesus

      by , 05-09-2019 at 04:50 PM

      I walk down the hallway at the graduate school where my father teaches. Two or three other people pass me. I look an old man in the eye and realize I'm dreaming. What to do with my lucidity? I know, I'll look for Jesus himself!

      Show me Jesus!

      But he doesn't come. Maybe he's around the next corner?

      I'm waking up and I instinctively jerk myself out of sleep.

      In waking life I've been listening to Bart Ehrman's audiobook, How Jesus Became God. Next time practice some stabilizing techniques and try to stay asleep.

      Updated 05-09-2019 at 04:56 PM by 92227

    4. New Driver

      by , 12-26-2018 at 08:04 PM
      EXT. ROAD - DAY

      I'm driving in my old neighbourhood in Texas and can't negotiate a simple left-hand turn.

      I've forgotten how to drive!

      CUT TO:


      Now I'm in my old bedroom. The jump cut jars me into lucidity. I quickly run through the house into the master bedroom, trying to stabilize and utilize my newfound conscious state. The lights are on in the house but no one is home.

      (Dream from earlier this month.)

      Updated 05-09-2019 at 05:30 PM by 92227

    5. Murky Lucid

      by , 11-04-2018 at 06:49 AM
      Last night I got lucid and made the standard, frantic effort to harness the moment to some purpose. Upon waking I neglected to journal and subsequently forgot the dream's content.
      lucid , dream fragment
    6. Invitation to the Dance

      by , 04-13-2018 at 03:04 AM

      I run my hands over a scale model of a city park on a hill. Fuzzy green grass, modern white architecture. The model is partially mushy and partially solid; my hands slip through the atomic lattice in some places but encounter rigidity in others. This serves as the dream sign, I suppose, because I am lucid. Except this time I don't remember the aha moment of recognition, only a constant knowledge of my conscious state. (Is that good?)

      I see my doppelgänger and run to him. He does not particularly resemble me, but I know somehow he is a second "instance" of myself--congealed from the implicate order, the collective unconscious (however these things are done). I grab him by the shoulders and exult, "I'm dreaming! And I'm going to dance with a pretty girl!"

      I leave my double standing bewildered on the fair grounds and begin dancing in place to conjure up a partner. It takes a while but eventually she's there. She is shy and doesn't want to dance at first, preferring to remain seated. With gentle persuasion, she rises and I lead her by the hand to the speakers where the music plays. There are no other dancers, but I waste time looking for the perfect patch of pavement on which to begin dancing with my new girlfriend and we never get started because my alarm clock wakes me up.

      I curse the clock. But the lucidity and purposeful dreaming lasted a relatively long time compared to earlier dreams. I'm improving my stability!

      Lesson: In dreams, as in life, don't waste time waiting to find perfect conditions—create optimum conditions if possible, or make do with what's available in the moment.

      Updated 04-14-2018 at 01:30 PM by 92227

      Tags: lucid
    7. Mobile Home

      by , 02-01-2018 at 02:27 AM

      Orcs are coming. [Day residue from watching LOTR.] I pretend to fire a German WWII machine gun out the window to drill for the orc invasion. My sister and brother and I hide in the hallway [where we used to duck and cover during tornados in reality]. Suddenly I feel the house shifting underneath us. I look out the window: the house is moving south. Lucidity. I attempt stabilization but fail and wake immediately.

      Updated 02-01-2018 at 02:29 AM by 92227

      Tags: lucid, orcs, wwii
    8. High Tide

      by , 01-27-2018 at 01:08 AM

      Rescue helicopters head out to sea on a mission during a storm. I know that their rotors have more than four blades a piece--even though they are in flight. (Perhaps my consciousness has a high frame rate or a high-speed shutter?) The waves encroach upon the house as the tide comes in. Peering out the open French windows, I worry about tsunamis, as in past dreams.

      Dreams? You mean, like this one? Why, yes, this is a dream, isn't it?


      A wave washes toward the house, almost touching the wall. I ignore my surroundings and try to achieve stability by rubbing my hands together. This is the first time I actually remember to try the technique. I can feel my astral hands rubbing together, but I don't know if it helped me stay asleep. Next I try to spin around, but I can't. Then I awake.

      As I lie awake, the purple afterglow remains a while: This time, instead of origami, it is an image of what looks like a hurricane seen from space, or a spiral galaxy, rotating counter-clockwise. I see individual flakes of purple or fat violet stars swirling lazily around at a period of perhaps ten seconds per rotation—although only about six seconds elapse. I close my eyes tightly and the image persists. The plane of the galaxy is tilted down about thirty degrees from edge-on. It finally fades. I note that the content of the purple window relates generally to the storm in the dream.

      That thumping sound you hear is my patting myself on the back in congratulation for having averaged one LD per week in the past month!

      Updated 01-27-2018 at 01:17 AM by 92227

    9. A Glitch in the Matrix

      by , 01-21-2018 at 03:03 PM
      Two lucids in as many nights!


      A large redwood tree has fallen over a highway but cars are able to pass under it. One car stops and "glitches" jerkily, as when a random pedestrian turns into Agent Smith in The Matrix. Then it drives backwards, returning to the fallen tree. (Did the car travel back in time?) The glitchiness and backwardness of the situation triggers short-lived lucidity. (See yesterday's DJ entry.)

      Updated 01-27-2018 at 12:28 AM by 92227

      Tags: backwards, cars, lucid
    10. Superfortress

      by , 01-20-2018 at 09:57 PM
      What a good way to start the year: A lucid dream and a false awakening―all in one night!


      A very loud WWII bomber flies overhead, towing a smaller aircraft behind it. The bomber grows in size (or comes closer). I see that it is a B-29. Then it becomes a six-engine B-36 Peacemaker. One or two of the propellers are feathered. Suddenly I notice that the aircraft is flying backwards. Perhaps this confusion is due to the fact that the real B-36's engines were mounted on the back of the wing? (This one's were not.) At any rate, the idea of a plane flying backwards jars me into lucidity. But I am unable to do anything with my newfound conscious state because I wake up immediately. Or is it a false awakening? Because I sleep again and dream a false awakening in which I am writing my lucid dream in my bedside dream journal--with two very large L's in the margin, denoting lucidity.

      Updated 01-20-2018 at 10:16 PM by 92227

      lucid , false awakening
    11. It Helps To Set a Deadline

      by , 12-27-2017 at 04:48 PM
      With one week remaining in 2017, I had hoped to end the year with at least one last lucid dream. Within days of this decision, my resolve has been rewarded with a night of several intense dreams—one of them lucid:


      I return to work after Christmas break. The company has rented a huge new facility in the interim. I nervously try to find my way around the strange complex. My colleagues are exercising in the morning before going to work: basketball, soccer, swimming--wait, what? Yes, two swimmers stroke past, near at hand. Suddenly, I myself sink up to my neck in water, too. The magical appearance of a swimming pool all around me startles my consciousness awake and I achieve...lucidity! I quickly begin to engage the dream, attempting to stabilize my awareness. But, as usual, I awake right away--this time due to my alarm clock's chirping at 6:21 AM.

      I have had similar success in achieving lucidity in the past, after volunteering to participate in a dream study whose submission deadline I missed by only a couple of weeks. (Tardy subconscious! But better late than never.)

      3 mg melatonin, 1500 µg vitamin B12, and brief meditation before an 11:15 PM bedtime.

      Updated 12-27-2017 at 05:18 PM by 92227

    12. Waking Up Is Hard To Do

      by , 09-16-2017 at 02:37 PM
      After lucid dreams (and sometimes after nonlucids): What are those blobs of colour I see in my vision? They resemble crumpled wads of paper or origami. They appear just before the dream ends and persist several seconds into wakefulness, clearly visible as I lie in bed. If I close my eyes tightly they're still there. Once it was purple and white on a violet background (viewed through a rectangular window surrounded by blackness). It vaguely resembled a neuron or a cancer cell. That one was clearly dimensional and floated in 3D space. I could study its contours and still remember its general shape. This morning it looked like an orange-and-black walnut. I fancied I was seeing my optic nerve. That's my best guess.

      Does anyone else see these things? What is it about the dream state (or hypnagogic state) that makes them appear? Is this related to the "sparkling void" I hear lucid dreamers talking about or is that something different?
      lucid , non-lucid
    13. Eclipsed Eclipse

      by , 09-16-2017 at 01:22 PM

      I'm on the ground level of a two-tiered train station. The platform is covered with crunchy cinders.

      CLOSEUP on a SOLAR ECLIPSE. The lower left sliver of the Sun is just showing on a black background, as if photographed through a solar filter. Just the Sun, no earthshine on the Moon. (Day residue: I attended an amateur astronomy lecture last night in reality.)

      Wait, am I dreaming? Yes!

      CUT TO: My point of view, watching the eclipse. The sky is clear, calm, and cool. My vision is exceptionally sharp--unlike most of my lucid dreams, which seem no clearer than an ordinary dream visually (the only difference being my conscious state).

      Now the Moon is in a gibbous phase. But the Sun (which has shrunk to about half size) is still being eclipsed as before--by its own Moon! So now there are two moons, one near and one far, with the Sun farther yet. WHO KNOWS what light source is illuminating the gibbous Moon! The incongruity delights me. I remember an earlier, nonlucid dream some months ago in which a solar and lunar eclipse were taking place simultaneously. I gladly accept such nonlocal logic in nonlinear time.

      I note that if I shuffle several feet to one side or the other, a great deal of parallax results: I can eclipse or uneclipse the Sun simply by walking back and forth on the platform. This implies that the Sun and moons must be quite close indeed, and very small--or else that I and the train station are extremely large. Because the three heavenly bodies are beyond the atmosphere.

      Lucidity having been achieved, I remember my plan of action--formed in waking life--and speak directly to my dream, making a preposterous request in the hope that it will be granted in reality. (It's worth a try!)

      I begin to awaken. As the vibrant dream energy dissipates, a black-and-orange blob persists in my vision. If I close my eyes tightly I can still see it for a while as I wake up in my bed. It's about the size of a silver dollar held at arm's length. It seems to be in my left eye, but I can't prove it. I study its contours and hypothesize that I am seeing my optic nerve, but that is only a guess. (Or is it a picture of a tiny brain?)

      It was 6:50 AM when I awoke. As I walked to breakfast later this morning I saw the waning crescent Moon, its phase resembling the sliver of Sun eclipsed in the dream. Remarkable coincidence. (Sun, Moon...no difference.) Despite my interest in astronomy I had lost track of the Moon this week. Did my dream calibrate with the lunar phase this morning? Make of this what you will.

      Updated 09-16-2017 at 01:59 PM by 92227

    14. Look, Ma! No Samsara!

      by , 06-30-2017 at 12:24 AM

      Another storm. I see downtown Dallas, Texas out the window. It is closer than in reality, perhaps by half the distance. All at once, the lights in every building blink on. Some of the lights resemble the mercury vapour lamps in the unfinished towers of the World Trade Center in Manhattan. Also, one or two of the buildings are being hoisted up and down, pivoted on their corners, by giant cranes. These strange sights downtown alert me to my conscious state: Dream!

      As usual when lucid, I can think very fast and efficiently. I instantly remember the course of action I had planned when awake for my next dream. First, I rub my hands together and demand, "Clarity now! Stability now!" For the first time in a dream I can actually see my hands because I'm concentrating on them. I also attempt to spin around, which is supposed to aid in stabilizing a lucid dream and prevent waking up. But my dream body is unresponsive and does not rotate. Then I remember that my main goal was to try to persuade a dream character that she or he is dreaming too.

      I turn to my mother, sitting next to me on the couch. "Look, Mom! We're dreaming! We're in a lucid dream! Did you know you're dreaming?" She gazes at me with a quizzical expression.

      Unfortunately the demand for clarity does not seem to have changed anything, nor the wish for stability: I'm waking up. "Mom," I say to her with a hurried hug, "I'll love you and Dad forever." Then I find myself slowly emerging into the reality of my bedroom, four thousand kilometres away.

      Updated 02-09-2020 at 07:29 PM by 92227

    15. Cubic Prophecy

      by , 06-10-2017 at 05:09 PM

      A squall of storm clouds. A formation of large, metal cubes comes streaking across the sky, toward me and to my left by about 30 degrees. Altitude: perhaps 1000 feet. They are dun-coloured and look like shipping containers oriented the tall way, with proportions of approximately 1:2:3. They moan or hum as they streak overhead, followed by conventional jet aircraft. The cubes and jets are cooperating and not hostile to each other. Perhaps they are all man-made.

      I become lucid. "It's a dream!" I cry. "Clarity, now!" I demand. But the dream does not increase in clarity. Nevertheless, I continue in lucidity by repeatedly reminding myself of my conscious state ("It's a dream, it's a dream.") I attempt to realize some dream goals I've been planning, but to no avail.

      Someone tells me that the scene playing out overhead is of a prophetic nature.

      I turn to look behind me where the ufos went. Red and blue searchlights rake the clouds in the distance. The red lights are lasers; I can see red dots dancing among the clouds. The searchlights are looking for alien ufo invaders.

      Updated 09-16-2017 at 01:46 PM by 92227

      Tags: lucid, ufo
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