WHO IS DREAMING?

Debbie Winterbourne
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 the scenario
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.

Lucy Gillis
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.]

Mara Sand
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 state.]

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 lucy@turbotek.net