This month's excerpt features a group of dreams
with a common theme - just who is dreaming when we dream? For many, the dreamer
doesn't always feel exactly the same as the "awake" personality that
we each know as "me." And what about in Out of Body Experiences, when
the dreamer looks back and sees him or herself asleep on the bed? Is that an
"empty" body laying there? What if that body sits up and looks around?
Who is sitting up?
WHO IS DREAMING?
17 April 2000
'Who am I?'
I am 'home' in an apartment in a foreign country. I want to look in a mirror,
but the apartment is somewhat dark. I try turning on the light switch, but it
appears to be out of order. I try two more light switches and both fail to
function. It crosses my mind that electric light switches often fail to work in
lucid dreams, and that I should do a reality test. There is a notice board in my
bedroom, so I decide to do a reading test. As I prepare to do the test, I am
thinking: "Oh my god; if this is a dream, it is going to be amazing because
is so utterly lifelike."
I read a notice on the board and then read it again. The text is different
the second time, but then changes to become the same as the first reading. To be
sure, I read the text for a third time. It is different. I am lucid! I am filled
with elation as I try to recall my lucid dreaming agenda. I remember that I have
decided to just follow what the dream offers. In order to maintain the vividness
of the lucid dream, I rub my hands on my body and repeat aloud 'I am lucid.' I
exit from my bedroom, and then have a thought: "Why don't I go back in my
bedroom and maybe I will see myself sleeping on my bed? And perhaps this second
Debbie will be the real physical Debbie asleep in the waking world."
I open the bedroom door and enter. There I am on the bed! But who is looking
at the Debbie on the bed? I am confused about the nature of the real me. [part
of this paragraph deleted per author's request] I decide to spin and try to find another dream
scene. I do this remembering to remain lucid.
In the next dream scene, I find myself in a dark cellar at the bottom of some
stairs. There is a door at the end of the cellar. I walk to the door and open
it. There is clear sunlight and I am fully lucid. I am walking down a street,
marveling at how absolutely vivid and lifelike everything is. I start to reflect
on techniques to maintain the dream imagery. I remember that Paul Tholey had
claimed that staring at a fixed point often led to a shaky dream environment, so
I decide to try it for myself. The scenery becomes blurred, so instead I start
to shift my gaze around from object to object. The dream imagery immediately
becomes more solid. The sun is really beautiful: its rays are of a watery thin
light quality. I gasp aloud with its beauty and serenity. I decide to explore
the sensation of touch. On my left is a privet hedge and I run my hand along it
to the end: its prickles rub against my skin and it feels totally like the
'real' thing. I awake with a jolt.
December 29 1995
I have been chasing a small dog down a street. I meet a little boy, probably
going to school, and I ask him if he saw the dog. He points down the street a
ways. He says they usually go down here this time of night. I go down and there
is no sign of him. I turn to the left, walking along a grassy hill which is also
a roof. I then walk out to the edge, and as I look down, I can see a cat below.
And as I look more carefully, there is another cat. But then, when I look
straight down, I can't believe how high up I am and I am so close to the edge.
SLOWLY and carefully I back away. I am so frightened about how high up I am. At
that point I realize I am dreaming, but I don't let it sink in right away. I
start walking back and as I begin to question if I am in fact dreaming, there is
a metal object like a gate in the way. I fold it back and it sort of bounces so
I have to give it a really good push. Then there are iron posts laying across my
path. I think that there is nothing in front of me but these posts that I
previously saw down on the ground, so I decide to fly as another reality test,
the ultimate test. When I do so, I feel a strange sensation in my legs that I
sometimes notice when I move to fly in a dream; like there's water running down
them. Then I start to fly into a room and I can see my body on a bed. Then I
just kind of hover above "me/her," I don't want to frighten
"me/her," but at the same time I want to let "me/her" know
that I am there. So I come around to the other side of the body and sit on a
pillow. I notice that as "she" sits up "she" looks towards
me, but obviously can't see me, as "she" has a kind of quizzical look
on "her" face. So I start barking like the little dog from the first
part of the dream, as though I was going to be the dog from "her"
dream. Then I feel a shift and I wake, flat on my back. I do not wake in the
body that I had been looking at, nor did I expect to. [Though it was
"me" I saw in the dream, I felt it was a version of me, not the same
me that is writing this.]
Past Lucid Dream:
[This dream came shortly after the last mailing of LDE. I was inspired by the
idea of using the activity of flying to trigger the awareness of the dream
I am in a room and I realize I can fly. I say to myself that I am dreaming
and decide to fly up through the ceiling. I come into contact with several
people in a series of scenes that I think are probable realities. I see an older
woman who reminds me of my mother. She seems worried about many of her life
situations. I think she was a probable self. I am filled with a sensation of joy
of the multifaceted connection to my greater self. I as a dream entity feel very
connected to the learning/joy of being a multi-reincarnated-probable inner-self.
I want to reach out to her and share my joy of the multi levels of learning. I
attempt to explain the magic of life/lives, the exuberance of the creativity of
this connectedness to so many selves. I try to say something like it is all
creativity and love. I say something about how we are all connected, and
awareness of this is the key. I awake exhilarated.
The Lucid Dream Exchange is a quarterly issue featuring lucid dreams and
lucid dream related articles, poetry, and book reviews submitted by readers. For
further information contact Lucy Gillis at email@example.com