NOVEMBER 13, 2015 to FEBRUARY 27, 2016
On the Astral, the rate of your development is not determined by the intensity of your beliefs, but by the intensity of your curiosity.
--Frank Kepple, Astral Pulse forum
The small tight spiral lines are easy to see. I move into them and they elongate into a tunnel. On the other end is Hypnagogia: Dreamland. The sensation of movement through the tunnel is real and what I see on the other end is real.
How it came about is a blur, but I've been taken somewhere against my will, possibly by a couple of evil sisters. After a long struggle I manage to focus awareness and announce my intention to the pair of taxis that sandwich me in, keeping me prisoner. "Drive!" I command. "We're leaving this place."
With rigid arms I hold myself up off the ground on the two parallel taxis' window ledges, a taxi to the left of me and another to the right. obediently my captors proceed slowly down the lane, from the house where I had been taken earlier, toward the paved road.
"Careful!" I call out to the taxis. We don't have far to go, just a long gravel driveway between houses and yards, but I worry about being crunched by the two moving cars. "Take it slow!" I'm impressed at the way in which my intent is carried out. This prisoner stuff isn't as bad as it sounds.
Upon arriving at the main road, I jump down and barge into traffic. In spite of the malleability of the two that had been put in charge of keeping me prisoner, I intend to put some distance between this place and myself. Cars stop as I'd intended and I call for help. The one I focus on is a tiny white car, the smallest car I've ever seen. I open the hatch at back and crawl in on top of a bunch of junk. The driver is an older man. He agrees to help me get away and warns me to be careful of the junk in the back of his car.
a.m. after lots of sleep
I know about the self in the bed, but never mind the self in the bed, I have some pianos to tune and haven't done it in a long time. I hold the feeling still with my intent, feel the click of the tuning wrench in my hand as it moves the tuning pin the slightest bit. I feel the sound of the note I'm playing with my left hand travel up my right elbow where it's propped on the top of the small piano. I practice moving the tuning pin the smallest bit. The familiar sensation is pleasant and I recall the years of clicking those pins back and forth for a living, making the tiny adjustments in the tautness of steel wires so that happy satisfied customers would send me home with some money in my pocket.
Still aware of the self in the bed, I focus my intent on also being able to see. I look at my tuning wrench, turn it around and look at it from all sides. Yep, it's real. It is certainly as real as it can be. This is no dream!
The woman I've been lucky enough to make mine is back in the room where I've left her and once my need to dilly-dally elsewhere is finally fulfilled, I head back for my cheery welcome.
Only to discover that--as I should have known--she'd had a plane to catch and was already gone. She left a note expressing the hope that I wasn't rejecting her, which I find comforting in a way, but in another way it just incites more misery.
I am so disappointed in myself, I am crushed by her absence and my not being there for one last five minutes together. I call her name. I see it written on a piece of paper. Her name is Custom.
Those houses, again. Empty and abandoned. Walking up a steep hill past empty shacks without walls, just little holes in the ground where cellars used to be, and wreckage. I am particularly afraid of falling in one of them.
Arriving somewhere, inside, we interact. A portly, lackadaisical man, and then a little wiry fella, animated and talkative, kinky hair swept back in a pile onto his head. Not sure I trust him.
... Finally drive away from the place, leaving the parking lot and impulsively turning right up that little road, it's kind of a weird way to go, but it's the shortest way if only my car will make it. Hey, when did it snow? The snow's too deep, I'll never make it up the hill that I live on top of.
But someone put up a sign saying "I made it all the way". So what the heck, I'll try, if I get stuck I can walk the rest of the way and come back for the car later on after the snow melts. I make it up the first road somehow through two-foot-deep ruts in the snow, which is kinda fresh and wet, and turn right to drive along the ridge, but that's steep too.
Forget this, I'm walking...
[Evidence that I'm "dreaming" while "awake". I was sitting on the front porch and I said a neighbor's name, "Arman" as part of the conversation. He suddenly appeared at that moment, from around the corner of the house next to us. He's a neighbor, but not a close one, it takes almost five minutes to walk to his house. Then later I was using tin snips to remove traces of a sharp piece of thin metal from my son's bike, and explaining to him that he could get sliced open on a thin piece of sheet metal, so I was being careful. Before I finished my sentence, I heard a child crying a few feet away. I walked over to him, a friend of my son, and he was sitting on the ground with his foot covered in blood. He had just sliced his toe open on a sheet of metal that the carpenter--the same Arman--had left in the garden. This is also how things work in dreams: you say it or think it, and it appears.]
I've been in a timeless state for 2-1/2 hours. At 8 pm I went to bed flat on my back, intending to prove everyone else wrong about bedtime being the wrong time to OBE. In addition I'm physically exhausted from whacking weeds in the heat of the afternoon at the farm.
My son T. sleeps next to me. He put his leg on me and pinned me down. Every time he moved, it kept me from going deep asleep. For a very long time I was stuck in a state of ... There was no sound, almost no visual, though I kept trying to apprehend one, no thought, no words.
I called this a timeless state...
For some reason that I was not able to apprehend except fleetingly, there was a sense of assembling something that had four sides. This was attempted over and over. I have a sense that this was done continuously over and over for the whole two hours. I have the sense that I never went to sleep.
But I wasn't trying to sleep. I have taken to sleeping on my back the first few hours because when I go to bed I want to try inducing experiences. At first I started looking at the darkness, the back of my eyelids, and immediately saw the curved parallel lines which usually comprise the spiral, but this time they looked like this as best I can remember:
After that I recall only blackness, maybe I went to sleep for awhile, but with his leg on me I don't have the sense that I ever really lost consciousness. I was not unaware of my body but also not giving it any heed whatsoever. It was like being asleep but not asleep.
Finally after the very long episode of putting together a four-sided object while trying unsuccessfully to come up with a description of it, I went into a dream that I watched on a screen, complete with narrator. The narrator was a young woman and I knew she was in a commune which is a place I dream about every so often.
I didn't see the woman, I saw her SNAKE. She said ... "Our little cobra is sleeping"...
The snake was huge, not small. It was not in a cage, but wrapped around a post made from a dead tree with most of the limbs cut off. The post was painted dark brown and planted in the ground in front of a barnlike structure. The snake is 8 inches thick and wrapped around this pole and the stubs of the tree's limbs.
Then I'm trying to give this snake a bath, and my vision is limited to what's right in front of me. I am now describing in the vision what I do as I do it. I am in awe of the snake's head which is now much larger and shaped like a dinosaur's head. Its nose is pointed to the left. I see only its head and MY HANDS. What I'm doing to it isn't necessarily washing, but it requires me to touch the thing with my hands. I talk while I work, and I speak of the necessity of keeping above and to the right of the head, since it's pointed to the left.
Then a noise outside where my body was in bed startled me but did not wake me, if I was asleep. I assumed it was AN INTRUDER [sign of sleep paralysis] and I FELT A SHARP, SUDDEN CHILL OF FEAR go over my whole body and became totally aware of lying in bed. A rectangular screen came up in the upper left 1/6 of my visual field. The picture was static, a monotone of golden hues, and I could look over it at leisure, examining the details. This was not a typical hypnagogic image because it came on suddenly when that noise startled me and I froze with chills of sudden terror.
I asked myself whether this chill that came over me--which was not a chill but something else--wasn't really sleep paralysis. But I didn't try to move, so I still don't know.
The scene looked like a parking lot behind a rectangular short building, but not in this world. I was aware that I was just comparing it to a parking lot behind a building because there was no better description for it. I paid special attention to the "cars" but noticed they were not the right shape to be cars. They were just smooth, rounded off rectangular blocks in rows and columns. I got the impression of circuitry or energetic patterns.
After visually scanning this static scene for maybe 15 seconds I let it go and came back to waking consciousness. I didn't open my eyes or move a muscle until I'd gone over all the details and remembered as much as I could.
Stuck going through someone's house/yard to get to where I want to be. [The recurring INTRUSION theme.] I have to pull myself up and over a wall. This happens over and over until the last time when I poke my head over the wall, I see it's snowing or freezing rain. It's night and across the street is the University where I'm trying to get to. I think those frozen hilly streets are going to give me some trouble.
I take a chance going through the house since I'm tired of pulling my body's weight over the wall. It's light in the house. Red carpets. Lots of cats. Near the front door I sit and read some of the residents' mail. The sender lives in the house and is writing to the others who live in the house. She mentions she's been gone 22 days and it seems she'll be the first one back in about 2-3 more days and the others will get back a few days after that.
But I end up being discovered by a portly young man. I explain that I'd had to cut through back yards and had to go through his house even though I didn't want to. He doesn't seem to care. He's an INVENTOR OR SORCERER. He shows me some aimy beepy things which I find enthralling. He has an older friend who wants me to SING with him. We're supposed to sight read off a sheet of music, so he shows me my part. I attempt it and he seems satisfied.
[As the happy-go-lucky wanderer which I consider the ultimate refinement of my dreambody and I call him Limberluck.]
I sit on a small platform cross-legged which HOVERS OVER THE STREET as I paddle forward by grabbing the ground with my small crowbar. I'm going to high school and wonder if my advanced age sets me apart from the other students but I decide I don't care. [Many details forgotten.]
[Hypnagogic upon awakening:] Starscape through round portal with a wide band of spinning stars around that.
Road trip, stopping for gas. Location of restroom notated, with arrow on a piece of notebook paper taped to wall. I find a small room which I decide is, in its entirety, a toilet since the doorway is too small for any but a child to go through, an explanation I give another visitor who seems skeptical and points out a more obvious explanation.
Back inside, an old man at a table owns the place and he calls out for help standing up. He's trying to climb out over the booth by straddling the table, which he can do since he's maybe 7 or 8 feet tall. He gets on his feet and teeters. I tell him he's too tall, I can't help him, and he says OK, he'll take it from here.
Back outside, I'm LOOKING FOR THE CAR I CAME IN, CRUISING AS IF FLYING through the parking lot that wraps around the little convenience center. Looking first for one kind of car and then another, as if constructing a past to explain how I got there. I settle on "Oh yeah, I'm a Mustang guy," then hone in on a car with a wire coming out of the back and a friendly young man with whom I must have arrived here. I ask if there's a problem and the two of them assure me it's just a utility light out and I offer to help, but revise this since I wouldn't know what to do. I offer to just watch, and it is agreed that I could do just that.
[Another version:] driving in alone in a large sedan which I must park in an aisle of the convenience store since there's no other place.
Having changed my mind about the flight, I crash land the airliner--a blue tubular or whale-shaped fuzzy pillow about 4 or 5 feet long. On looking into my whereabouts, it seems I am at lonely mountain. Not there alone. A mean young woman intends to berate me and I end up in the back seat of her car TRYING TO FIND a functioning radio station for more news of the crash. She's up front, and reaches back and finds that jazz station since they have the best news. I make a mental note to get back to the station that was playing a guitar ragtime song.
Once out of the car, I can see that a whole mountain has been burned. Water is pouring out of something up high in a burned tree. Some people and dwellings are around.
[In bed at bedtime. By not moving, it's very easy to get to the edge of sleep, and not too hard to stay there for a while, but the discomfort is pretty intense if I don't move. I can see why NN calls it painful.]
[On my back with hands at sides and an annoying itchy rash on right arm. Fell asleep briefly or almost asleep with hypnagogic impression of] holding a metal framework in left hand which holds me up. Wondered why I was holding it, then remembered I was really lying in bed not moving a muscle.
FLYING up to the ceiling by flapping arms. This has nothing to do with wind or air, it's about energy in the surrounds of the body which I somehow grab and pull/push on.
[... I'm going to bed early and will count to 100, but between numbers I will repeat, "Physical reality is not solid."]
[Upon counting to five the awareness was already preparing to springboard. Caught dreambody] ogling some female with an oglesome expression on his face.
I urgently need to get down a mountain and start to leap off one and look down just in time to see that this is not the place, it's a straight-down cliff. I am sitting on the edge of a cliff with one leg dangling over the edge. I back up one inch at a time.
I need a 44-foot ladder so I go the long way down to the highway at the base of the cliff--it's now nighttime--and there are competing businesses with ladders exactly that long. I especially hope to give my business to one owned by a certain woman. She's busy marking down her 44-foot ladder to $32 so it looks like things might work out after all.
[As I hover near wakefulness, it gets abstract--no plot] Ladders of different step lengths like harmonics. 44-foot ladder with steps every 2 feet, every 4 feet, every 6 feet, etc.
I have a great electric waterboard, the size of a skateboard, gets me from point A to point B nice and fast. I can take the corners fast after practice, leaning into them. It's dark and it's fun going down the river. When I get close to where I'm parked, it bogs down in some mossy boggy water but I wonder if the battery is just dying.
Anyway, there's only a short ways to go, I'll just walk through those last two buildings, too bad I'm stark naked. I let the air out of the small rectangular flotation device I'm carrying and pretend it's a towel. Some of the women who I meet up with, I know, and they give me a dirty look. I imagine them telling their friends.
Awareness is clicking back-and-forth like a detent from northern USA to southern Canada over a dividing line that has some reality, some physical thickness, but not much. I keep wondering about the nature of the difference between the two places based on the knowledge that they are so similar.
Basketball in hand, I jump up toward the ring and surprisingly I'm able to dunk it--from above. Leisurely rising higher and higher, then casually dropping the ball through the ring, HOPING the others can see. For a time I demonstrate my relative freedom from gravity. Then I'm taking a nap with companions and wondering what to say about that and who to say it to. One [about the size and appearance of a young Carlos Castaneda] has plans to paint a green poster in puffy '60s letters that says "peace".
2015-12-29 6:20 am
Woke up sure that I was in sleep paralysis. Not at first, but I was aware (mind awake) and the body which was mostly asleep crossed some threshold which was terrifying. I said to myself, "This is sleep paralysis, just endure it." After several seconds, I let the mind go to sleep to escape the sensation which was all but physically painful and afflicted the whole body. But after a few seconds of relief, I decided to go back into the state in case this was what I was working so hard to achieve, what I had wanted for 45 years. Back in the terrifying state I somehow detected in spite of being asleep and in paralysis that T. had put his leg on me. I pushed his leg off somehow (or so I thought at the time) and instantly the terrifying sensation vanished.
2016-01-01 7:00 pm
I keep finding these shiny black rocks, the largest is about the size of my fist. They are very special because if you put them next to your eyes, there are clear parts that you can see right through. But held away from your face, it looks exactly like obsidian.
We're outside at night and we see a light moving in the sky. I tell T. to look at it. The light suddenly changes directions and I say it's a UFO; airplanes can't do that. It changes direction again and I get very excited, but then as it gets closer, I see it has flashing lights like an airplane, so I say it's not a UFO, it's just an airplane.
But then the two flashing lights become two magnificent and strange flying machines which alight upon the earth. Next door to us. So I urge T. to come with me next door so we can talk to the owners.
Next door is my special shack. The one that's mine in spite of its rot and filth and other faults. In there the pilot has lined up some metal drawers and he needs one of them, but it's full of the filth of a long unused house, mouse droppings, etc. He asks me to get it ready for him after first covering the pile of dirt and dust with a piece of paper, and then rejecting that idea. I take the drawer next door to the main house after explaining that I have a better idea which won't involve wasting time cleaning the filthy old metal drawer.
I'm going through a collection of orange plastic drawers. There's one I think would be particularly suitable to deliver back to the pilot and as I look over the other drawers, I keep getting drawn back to this one. I am just about to take the drawer back next door and present it when I suddenly realize I should not be second-guessing the pilot's request. I decide to clean the metal drawer and take it to him.
Stepping over the low block wall that separates the two driveways, where are the UFOs? A large blond man is wrestling a small white car body onto some rigged-up stands and when he's finally satisfied that he's got it where he wants it, I ask him what happened to the UFOs. He informs me that the pilot had only been seeking directions, because his flight had gone off course. The man had shown him the route on a map and sent him on his way.
In the night sky, someone or something drops a line of lights over a great distance, each one separate by some distance from the next. The lights drop straight down, and before reaching the ground, each light blossoms into an animal image of some kind. I find this absolutely stupendous.
Riding in a van with T. and some orphans.
Riding in a boat, small motorboat, driver is nuts, swimmers have to avoid him, but as we approach each one, it seems they aren't people, just logs and things floating in the water.
A wave approaches us which is not tall but very big. I am PUSHED TO THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN by the wave and HELD THERE TILL I START LAUGHING. I FIND THAT LAUGHING UNDERWATER CREATES AN AIR SPACE FOR ME TO LAUGH IN.
I resurface and wonder what happened to T.. I'm on the wrong side of the building, or don't know where I am, but I decide to follow some small boys into the building in case they might lead me to T..
[T. dreamed that we went to Davao and ate at Jollibee.]
An old dirt road, some disgruntled old brown women, and a bunch of brooms with one broken arm. And the words, "Stay in one place and clean everything with your mind."
[Slept almost 12 hours.]
[On awakening I could still strongly feel the vibrations that meant I could easily go back to sleep, but after peeing and getting a drink of water, the vibrations were gone. So practiced inductions and came to the conclusion that the method of breathing I discovered as a young man covers all the bases...]
A magic penny materializes, it's there and then it's gone. I report this to J. in great excitement. Later, the same thing happens with a small stone and I am ecstatic.
Walking in Glenwood or Salina going "south" on the "west" sidewalk on Main St. and turn right just at the south edge of downtown.
But it's not normal walking because the atmosphere of the sidewalk area is like a rectangular tube of watery atmosphere, I can breathe but I can also swim up to the top of the watery tunnel about 8 to 10 feet from the sidewalk and poke my head up out of the tube to see clear blue skies. I keep swimming up through the raining air and poking my head through the roof of the tunnel to look at the clear blue sky above. This is so interesting that I try to share it with T. who along with J. is accompanying me, but he's bogged down by a bamboo stool that he's carrying with him, so he can sit down and rest from time to time. I tell him to lose the stool so he can swim like me and see what I see.
[Above dream is very similar to the following lucid dream from many years ago:]
I am flying up through foggy gray atmosphere and my mind is likewise cloudy, my thoughts vague. As I proceed up, my head pops up above the fog and I simultaneously realize I am dreaming. This is very exciting. Now instead of fog, I see beautiful bright green patterns shifting and changing--I literally fly through self-organizing visions while fully aware that I am dreaming. Then I sink back into the fog and forget I'm dreaming, but soon my head pops up out of the fog again, and again I know I'm dreaming. This pattern repeats several times before I get tired or satisfied and let go of it.
[Upon first lying down, I often have an intense dropping away complete with hypnagogic dream activity. Last night was a good example of this.]
A huge log has been sawed or planed off on one side and is being rotated into place so that its one flat side is facing up.
[Ever hear of "sawing logs" (snoring) or "rotating out of the body"?]
J. and I are visiting a group of young women in a large white wooden room... Then I see the shelf where used books are sold and I find one I've wanted before, a thin, square white paperback about a famous scientist. It's only $2 so I plan to get one more--a pair of books I wanted before but didn't buy. I grab the second book. It's an old, small clothbound, green color. Title is Treasure, and Time-Space...and Maps.
[Went to bed the usual time. Restless, hard to concentrate, pain in left side of upper back and rib cage due to injury from pumping mud out of a neglected water pump.]
[Was able to change the sound of far away highway noise--which is amplified at night if all is quiet here on the farm--into the sound of waves hitting the shore along with related images. Variety of hypnagogia easy to find, but can't focus... Finally got settled lying on right side. ]
My right hand involuntarily made three stabbing or reaching/grasping motions at an upward angle, apparently in reaction to lying perfectly still. [Then I immediately realized that it was not my physical hand. My physical hand had remained motionless due to the induction practice. This is what I've been waiting for. At a moment when I was focused but not trying too hard, Dreambody made its first move.]
[Working on getting wife's snoring to change into the sound of ocean waves.]
I step off the sidewalk--expecting the curb to be a standard height--but there's no road. My foot just keeps going. I jerk violently back into my body. [This is one of those hypnagogic twitches felt while going to sleep, except this time I was aware of the cause of it.]
[Rib cage injury improving but neck stiff as a board and developing sciatica and lower back pain because of it.]
I'm in a group of people--surfers and druggies--who hang out together in a certain apartment. One day I arrive early and lock the door so no one else will come in. I know where they can see in, so I hide my body behind things knowing they'll be wondering why the door is locked, who's in there, etc. Allen especially--a tall blond surfer dude with long hair--is especially getting on my nerves. [The real Allen was a very large man with black hair and dark skin who was some kind of blackmailer and/or power tripper I knew in Stockton.] I'm laying on the couch invisible to him where he can look in the window or peephole and I enjoy watching him complain to the others about being locked out. Since they can't see me I try to do something I would only do in private, but my member goes limp in hand. Finally I open the door, knowing that they know somehow, especially Allen. [Forgot lots of details.] He gives me his "I know what you do" look.
[Then I'm in my body almost awake but not quite aware of dreaming,] same position as before, mentally going over how I could put Allen in his place. I think I could volunteer as an undercover cop in a sting operation to catch him involved in something illegal like producing child porn, and I imagine what kind of questions the police personnel interviewer would ask me such as, "What would you do if you had to take three kinds of hallucinogens at once in order to maintain your cover at a party?" I go over the possible answers such as, "I'd probably puke and pass out, but I wouldn't run to Mommy or go to the hospital." [Finally I realize the continuum from the dream to the current mental trip and wake up the rest of the way, stiff as a surfboard.]
At night, very dark, I need to stop my car quick, so I can do something. I pull into a parking lot. Lots of cars seem to be parked overnight but also lots of spaces I can see since I also have an overhead vantage point from above (dual consciousness) as I steer the car quickly into an empty space. I hope I won't be bothered by the police, and I drive fast so they won't see me. I just want to be mistaken for an overnight parked car with nobody in it. From the driver's seat, I look up straight through the windshield and a little to the right into a very bright white streetlight. It's so bright and white.
With KK, I use the shiny silver key to enter the all-white apartment, and we start looking around our new home. We're talking loudly then I tell her to be quiet because we're in the wrong place. There are dirty dishes and open cans and stuff on the kitchen counter (all painted gloss white). We dart out and I say something loudly to the effect that these apartments shouldn't all be keyed the same, in case the people hear us, maybe they will understand the intrusion. We exit a short corridor, old but all freshly painted in gloss white, through one of several identical doors, using the same key.
Exiting the white entranceway, I pop out into a darker, brownish, more relaxed and beat-up environment, and looking up over my shoulder above and behind me, I see a large plate of glass with a medium-large colorful tropical fish behind the glass. Then I notice the fish is in a large aquarium and the plate of glass is a window, and a short man with longish hair and an eyepatch is tending the aquarium. I wonder why a blind person would want fish. Then a young girl is seen pulling on a small fish. She is grasping a fish by head and tail and stretching it, which I think is kinda odd.
The notion that we were entering an apartment is forgotten, as we have obviously gone outside. This is the Grandiose City, [which I dream about every so often, the location of megalithic architecture, ancient apartment houses, and everything is paved, the idea is buildings everywhere and each one is fascinating. Later, a subplot will be invented for the guy with the eyepatch, or so it seems... can't get everything I remember into a logical sequence for sure.]
We set out on foot to check out the neighborhood. Our apartment building is old and weathered, darkened brick built on a hill so the back is lower than the front. The next building is so close to it that the two are separated only by a covered sidewalk sloping up to the front of the buildings. Up there we find a maze of brightly colored candyland-painted wooden houses, very big houses, no people around, and no cars or streets, just walking from house to house along pathwalks.
Each house is different. I am amazed at how huge some of them are. We check out the neighborhood a little and then go back. I admit to KK that I've forgotten where we started from, and she points to the sloped covered sidewalk and says, Remember that's the landmark. [THE TUNNEL!]
Inside a long, open (no inside walls) tunnel-like apartment with lots of windows on the right, a funky old place and I like it, but it's about ten feet wide and 100 feet long, KK cautiously brings up money, as we've just got to town and have no income. Apparently this is my problem, not hers. I feel OK about it, reminding myself we have our savings, but I admit that a job for me would be just the thing. I think of something I used to do and I could do that again, but then I remember making pizza and realize I could get a pizza job close to the apartment and just walk to work, and they'd even give me a uniform for free, cutting down on our clothes budget, compared to a more stressful job where I'd have to buy special clothes and tools, etc.
Then with relief, I realize/remember/invent that I could even deliver pizza because we'd bought that old car from the guy with the eyepatch [when???]. So I'm driving around and I really like it, it's old, brown inside and out, and big inside with fuzzy carpets and musty old car smells. I'm parked outside the first big colorful pastelly overgrown picket-fence wood house that we'd seen, with my window open, talking to Joe [who used to be my boss at a pizza job or three.] Suddenly a hose out in the oval driveway of the house comes on, like a big firehose, spraying me directly in the face through the open window of the car. I consider cranking up the old-fashioned window, but the spray is so strong that I need TWO HANDS TO COVER MY FACE, PALMS OUTWARD as if to catch the water. [Someone is trying to get my attention: "Look at your hands... remember... remember... you're dreaming..."]
I manage to get KK's attention and she runs over to the house and gets the housewife, who is outside in a 1950s longish skirt, black and white plaid, to turn off the hose. I laugh hard, while explaining to Joe that it's a SOUND-ACTIVATED hose, and this has happened before [when???].
Then we're in the long tunnel-like apartment with the woman in the plaid dress and a very tall young man with very short hair. I realize his name is Paul, and KK introduces him to the woman, talking too fast: "Paul, woman, woman, Paul." [I forget the woman's name.]
Then there are two very tall young men with very short hair. [It gets fuzzy here and I gradually wake up still telling the dream to myself i.e. still describing events that could happen next. Same thing happened with the last dream about the surfer named Allen.]
I can FEEL THE HAIR OF A PERSON'S HEAD PUSHED AGAINST THE FRONT OF MY FACE.
[Realized later that the above was a non-lucid OBE--I sank out of body instead of lifting out.]
I was not asleep [sure of this] but hadn't moved in a long time because of back pain, afraid of spasm. Heard wife's voice say, "Hon!" I called out, "Huh?" but no answer. She was asleep. What I had heard was not the voice of a sleeptalker, it was her waking voice. I called out, "What?" and she woke up and told me I was dreaming. I told her I was not asleep.
[Must have been in sleep paralysis and didn't know because I hadn't tried to move. My voice sounded like I was asleep so I tested for a dry throat, but it felt normal. Should have been dry because I was lying on my back without a pillow. This was a sleep paralysis auditory hello-cination.]
In a crowded airport with a leaky roof and carrying about a dozen boxes full of stuff, I have no hope of dealing with this until a tall woman with white skin and dark hair dressed in an airport or stewardess uniform offers to help me. I am sure there is no help for me and I doubt she's serious anyway, but she shows me where to line up my stuff and assures me that everything is going to work out just fine. She says my destination has been changed to Scotland which at first annoys me since I had other plans, but I think about it and become excited to go there.
["Scotland" implies I am just going to me (my name is Scott).]
[At some point last night:]
Awake and watching fully independent images of a horizontal row of short vertical sea green lines moving across the screen (back of eyelids) and slight wavering up and down. Superimposed on top of other images that I forgot.
5:35 - 6:35 pm
[Long day, barely conscious, no nap, no empty time to take a bath, but feel urged to close eyes instead to see what happens.]
Heard myself breathing from an odd perspective. [This has happened before and may be something to watch out for. It's as if the dreambody is hearing the voice of the physical body from a slightly different position than the physical body.
[T. rolled over my way and put his whole leg up on my chest while I was practicing my triune breathing. Continuing the breathing, I went into a little sleep or unconscious breath lapse. I woke from that and immediately remembered what had just happened while the body was asleep,] a sort of energy body or apparition reached down from up and to the right, lifted T.'s leg a little, and let it flop back down on me. [Except it wasn't his physical leg. His physical leg hadn't moved. At least that's how I experienced it. As if my astral body was bumped by his astral body.]
[Earlier sometime today or yesterday, I woke up from an induction or nap or little sleep and when I opened my eyes there were hypnagogic patterns still, with eyes open. What does this mean? It means that you can be "in" the astral and physical body at the same time. But we are not "in" these bodies, we ARE these bodies...
Notice while breathing/little sleeps another episode of changing bodies, waking up and remembering it.
I'm living in the woods and FLYING from place to place. I keep TRYING TO FIND a baby eagle the size of a large spider and just as delicate, which I accidentally mangled earlier when I didn't RECOGNIZE WHAT IT WAS. It makes a STRANGE KEENING SOUND. I don't suppose there is much hope for it.
Talking to somebody about getting hired to wash dishes. The manager appears and this makes me happy because I know him: Snow... Jim Snow! He remembers me [in reality I never heard of such a person] and says to the person interviewing me, "Smart!" and gives me the thumbs up. I am sent to a corner table to wait and a young employee gives me a plate of French fries. I am ecstatic.
I am running across a lush green lawn, taking bigger and bigger strides, more and more effortlessly, till I soar into the air. The feeling is exquisite. I have no fear. I am headed for a big tree, so I open my arms in a big embrace and when I arrive at the tree I am going just the right speed to comfortably wrap my arms around the stub of a large fallen limb and hang there.
I go back to Jim Snow's place, now it's the kitchen of an old people's cafeteria. I wander around in a shop full of health aids, because it's adjacent to the office area where Jim Snow and others are working at desks. I catch the eye of a receptionist who points out Jim Snow. He has long kinky curly blond hair. (He looks like the breath guru I've seen online called Dan Brule.)
[Upon first lying down, I am getting strong and spontaneous hypnagogic images as soon as I close my eyes.]
A gold or bronze spinning top in the shape of an X [... Yesterday I focused a lot on center of head aka pineal gland and noticed it shines a light inside when I do that. Sometimes it seems to activate hypnagogia, or almost, and sometimes it seems to light up the top half of the head... The trick is to physically feel that place, not to try to force anything to happen, and I also breathe into that spot.]
[Hypnagogia upon first lying down at night:]
Golden-hued scene of apparently sandy ground. I remember to try and expand my clarity by staring at the ground. This increases my visual field somewhat but not for long.
[Breathing session and little sleeps or "LS". (This was a milestone in itself because I knew a lying down breathing session would give me little sleeps but I hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. This was the first use of the notation [LS].)]
[LS1] Encounter with a small Asian girl about 5 years old. I tell her to go a different way and ask if she knows of one. A teenage boy who is with her answers for her which I find annoying, "Yes." in an East Indian accent. He leads the way toward the road as if passing in front of my house [the sense that this is our real house where we live]. The girl follows him a few steps, passing behind a cable anchored to the ground. She stops and turns toward me and bows deeply at the waist with the greatest of passion, total acknowledgement. When back upright, she is smiling. She is a blocky-shaped little girl, not pretty or even cute. Her smile wakes me up with the boy's "yes" ringing in my ears. [When I stopped to recall this little dream, which only lasted a few seconds, I was surprisingly overwhelmed by emotion. This was a complete shock as I do not seek emotional peaks through this practice. This has never happened before in all my breathing sessions.]
[LS8] "Hi." Hanging something abstract in the air over my mat. "Hi." Hanging something again. [This repeats maybe five times. The thing being hung is in [brackets!?!] visually like my [LS] notation.]
[About one hour into the second long breathing session today. The first one was about two hours. Notice stages of MATIW (More Air Than I Want):]
[1. buzzing throughout body, dizziness, especially tingling in fingers and toes2. high-pitched metallic electrical sizzling sound3. heavy oppressive heat (not from the environment)4. strong unmistakable waves of chills down the spine5. partial paralysis/seizing up of muscles involved with breathing, especially the mouth; heavy feeling on the top back part of head and top back of throat--back of palate]
[LS1] Woken up by the sound of somebody climbing wooden stairs. [No one there--I'm home alone with the doors locked--we now have concrete stairs, the wooden ones are gone.]
[LS1] Detailed communication, can't remember, about a beautiful and desirable creature and about it being OK. Uplifting, not erotic.
[LS2] Another reassuring message about mutual communications planned for the future. Compared to "facebook of the future" but without computers.
[LS3] About the five commands: "It's my opinion." Again accompanied by reassurance beamed at me from someone or something. [I had chosen five commands or affirmations which were supposed to catapult me to OBE success.]
[Just did my first-ever meditation session... Will now lie down for intensive breathing and possibly sleep/dreams, and will also start using a blindfold.]
[LS1] Little boy (A.J.): "It's bullshit."
[Went to sleep. Although today's breathing session was short, I had an opening up of the breath and started to approach wanting more and more air.]
[Hypnagogia] Assuming the back of the eyelids is composed of dots of color and then noticing/activating/calling out one color at a time till that color predominates. This was surprisingly easy and effective, accompanied by slow connected breathing, but not so slow or deep as to be distracting.
[Faded into sleep from hypnagogia--woke shortly and] the screen was very active due to my having just been asleep. Looking up into a blue blob which kept arranging itself into a detailed and jagged tunnel opening. Excellent and totally conscious, at one point I had to command myself to stay calm, which worked well, but then it faded as I woke up all the way.
[LS1: After less than an hour of light sleep--lying on back, pillow under knees, arms at sides--which tells me to not drop off fast, but rather to consider it an induction--more negative words popping up hypnagogically--forgot earlier example but last one was:] "This is truly a stagnant journey."
2016-02-02 breathing session 2:15 - 3:15 pm
[LS2] [With vibrations of body and especially right hand.] Sound of motor purring as I--a long cylinder--float under my own power into the place where I tend to remain.
2016-02-16 12:01 am
...[Twice in early morning I woke up with hands vibrating. I focused on the vibrations and tried to let them spread through the body. Tried to stretch my astral arms out but nothing happened. As body woke up more, vibes faded.]
[LS2] [Woke into panic-stricken feeling that I'd done something to hurt myself. Because I had no idea I was going to go into a little sleep. The panic kind of emptied out into a normal buzzing tingling sensation and then it occurred to me that maybe I had woken up in sleep paralysis. Don't know because I hadn't tried to move. Then my visual field was covered by bright orange which gathered into a large fuzzy blue donut in its center, and in the center of that a round blue fuzzy eyeball with the eye moving slowly back and forth from center to my left. I moved my eyes to see if it responded and it did not. I let the eyeball go and tried to replace it with the fine concentric circles which was not hard to do, and I thought about moving toward it, but noticed the blue was getting fuzzier and let it go.]
[After the first few hours of dreamless sleep, I had long detailed dreams near to lucidity and the sense that each dream was hours long, right on up to waking in the morning. Before that, when I first lay down, it was hot and though I intended to do hypnagogic induction, I lay on my back in a mentally off state but the body wasn't really asleep. I've lost most of the detail of the dreams since I didn't stop to write anything down till later.]
2016-02-05 11:00 am nap
I am happy to get a visitor, Peachy, who is supposedly ELEVEN YEARS OLD which we determine in the course of trying to HAVE A CONVERSATION. I am going upstairs--this is some kind of basement apartment--going upstairs to get my stereo since it's disappeared and I want to entertain the guest. I turn around and she's LAYING ON THE FOAM FIDDLING WITH ONE OF T.'S TOYS. I head up to get the stereo which Mark has borrowed and not returned. The name "Mark" seems wrong. [I sometimes confuse Mark with T. in dreams.]
Outside I both experience and see from above cutting across a large sloped empty field by sliding on something through or over the snow. Mama remarks in regards to my line of thought--something about my siblings' attitudes toward me--that they thought I was supposed to be a savior of some kind--I'm trying to figure out the rejoinder, the "Well no, not really, it's actually like this..." when I [wake up lying on a sweat-drenched T-shirt. Changed shirt and went back to sleep but was startled by my wife calling me to lunch. Despite lots of energy, I wasn't able to recall dreams. Note, this is the first nap with dreams I've had since I can remember recently.]
[Regarding the dream about Peachy above. Note that I almost never have dreams while napping during the day AND the above dream turned out to be clearly premonitional... After lunch I put the FOAM on the floor downstairs and was planning to go back to sleep when PEACHY popped in for a visit. THIS NEVER HAPPENS. We are not close and she is very quiet, seldom speaks. She wanted to have CONVERSATION and kept talking about her UPCOMING BIRTHDAY. I mentioned that today is me and my wife's ELEVENTH wedding anniversary and Peachy mentioned she'll be turning 17 in four days. She kept asking to "borrow" T.'S TOYS. I told her to bring the cards back but she said she'd be right outside, but then instead she LAY DOWN on a long wooden bench right next to where I'd put the FOAM on the floor. Then she proceeded to PLAY WITH T.'S TOYS one after another, just fiddling with something and then moving on to something else. His cards, his legos, his skateboard, his bike. She asked to go on our anniversary outing with us. There's no way all this was coincidence, compare with the dream above which was only an hour or two on the wrong side of present time, clearly premonitional even though not earth-shattering in significance as to its content.
[I've never had a more perfectly clear and obvious display of precognition in my life. It would be different if Peachy and I had some kind of ongoing conversation/relationship, but this was totally out of the blue, both the dream visit and the real one. ...developing real confidence that reality is a construction of the moment while past and future are just explanations invented by the mind on the fly... there is no time, it's just a construct of the mind to try and explain infinity.]
I've been assigned with running along the edge of the embankment or dike that runs up above the common road which is a big mud rut worn into the earth by habitual travelers. The short wall up above the rut on its right is smooth and square-edged on the left but graduates into cobblestone and then coarse gravel as it dissipates into the grassy slope on the right, which is where I go.
Up in the BROWN SKY above the big green grassy field, a whirlygig thing releases many objects of interest into the atmosphere and these things fall freely into the field. I hold my HAND over my head to prevent being struck in the head, and some of them graze my HANDS.
I collect four identical white plastic boxes which nest inside each other since they have one open end. Also a fanlike object the color gold and whatever else I can carry, and i bring these down to contest central, a non-descript building where other students converge.
As it becomes apparent the point of the exercise is to assemble an air compressor from all this junk before someone else does, I look closer inside the white plastic box and find an essential red plastic part has been provided which needs to be installed properly. I can imagine how all these parts will become a compressor, with the fan some kind of turbine.
The woman in charge is going to help me, but she and some of the students laugh at the way I've installed a plastic part inside the end of a pipe. I want to explain that I too had my doubts and I'd just put it there for safekeeping during transport.
[The dream devolves or repeats into wish fulfillment re: exotic cheeses the craving for which was not responded to by fate.]
[Lying down to breathe. First real rain in over a month. I've started using a blindfold for all inductions except when going to sleep at night.]
[LS3] [Came out of it with a cough breaking out of paralysis and the momentary feeling of panic.] [Is this sleep paralysis, suspended breath, both? Neither?]
[LS4] I look downward, see my legs, I'm wearing shorts and red canvas tennis shoes. It's bright. My knees are bent and I am scooting forward carefully on a flat rough gray surface like a sidewalk. Sliding my foot forward carefully without picking it up because I'm aware of being on a narrow ramp and highly elevated.
[intensive breathing] [Felt a heat buildup in abdomen and spread up back. Sensation of hot and cold in torso. It's not raining anymore but not hot. I'm wearing shorts, no shirt, but keeping a cotton pillow case on my chest. Also have a mild sore throat since yesterday.]
[LS6] A female entity speaks to my body as I watch from ten feet away and a few feet above: "I like you, without taking off your underwear."
[LS8] Looking down from a great distance on a huge packed stadium lit up at night. "The Royal Racing Commission would like to remind everyone of [some rule]." The crowd starts over, this time their breathing follows the rules or is supposed to look like it does, and as a result the light over the crowd changes to a subdued dusty purplish tone.
In Nevada City, I'm passing an open doorway and look in to see a friend, Carlos, in his living room so I go in. He's unloading a paper sack full of leaf or bud shake onto the floor, so i expect we are going to get loaded. There is also another presence [SC]. Then we're driving around smoking a pipe openly. I go down the hill behind the Miner's Foundry and there's Breeze out front of the apartment with his many five-foot tall yellow rubber duckies. I BECOME AWARE THAT I'M DREAMING AND WAKE UP at the same time.
[Intention to go back to the last dream since it turned lucid in its last moment.]
Back in Nevada City. This time the companionable presence [SC] reminds me of Darshan. We are networking the air car project, deciding which person will be best for which role in the organization. It all seems so fresh and new, now that people are coming on board. I have a great little wooden cottage right there on Broad Street, and I'm standing in front of it looking at the front of the house, right where I'm going to paint "Air Car Access" in black letters for all to see. An angelic little boy or girl brings me some fresh organic vegetables cooked up in a tasty sauce.
[ANOTHER PRECOGNITIVE DREAM. The "apartment" I mentioned above where I found "Breeze" and his big yellow rubber duckies. In waking reality, this was the back way into the Miners' Foundry, a museum from the Gold Rush days. It was also the way to Darryl's apartment since he lived in the back part of the museum and served as caretaker. Breeze didn't live there but Breeze and Darryl both were disc jockeys at the community radio station located in the same building. The two of them are the same size and body type with similar personalities in some ways. When I glimpsed "Breeze" (one of my closest friends from 40 years ago) it was from a distance, I never got close to him or saw him again. Darryl and I were not close, I only visited him in his apartment once. After dreaming about the entrance to his long-ago former apartment last night, I opened Facebook and right on top, first thing, is Darryl's photo posted by none other than my ex-wife who I had no idea even knew him. The posting is about seeking donations so he can purchase a small trailer since he has to move and is in bad health. This is totally mind blowing synchronicity.
[But there's more. When did I meet Darryl? When I lived with Darshan. The second dream about Nevada City was about air car networking. How did I meet Darryl? Darshan's friend interviewed me on his community radio station show about air cars. Darryl was listening from another town, called in to the show, and invited me to his house to give a talk about air cars. I borrowed a car from Darshan's and my next door neighbor and drove to Darryl's house. Later when Darryl and family moved to Nevada County, they sought housing assistance through Darshan as a connection. So this is the second precognitive dream in a week.]
4:15 pm breathing
[LS1 int. 1-100] Cooked chicken leg on a small plate. "Chicken hard _____, chicken _____ _____, chicken _____ _____." [Caught myself in a quick panic--suspended breath? Sleep paralysis?]
5:00 pm meditation
[LS1] from high above a battle plain, three horsemen the size of dots are escaping the scene. I pull them back with my awareness which wakes me up.
5:30 pm breathing
8:45 pm to bed, breathing
I reached out and touched a large object, a cylindrical fuzzy thing about fourteen inches in diameter and sixteen inches tall, [then realized it was not done with my physical body, so this was a mini-OBE or non-lucid OBE.]
I rise sleepily from a pile of cardboard boxes that are me, imagining or remembering a half-dozen large playful bears which are just then sleeping in a pile. I'm describing them to the ever-present companion: "They're happy, they're _____, they're _____..." But still I'm afraid of them as i make the few steps to the restroom in hopes they won't wake up and start harassing me. Something touches me from behind and I momentarily panic [sleep paralysis?] [but I realize it's T. touching me where I sleep in the bed.]
11:00 am nap
Hot. Sore throat with phlegm buildup [?] choking me awake periodically from semi-panic state ? can't breath? Sleep Paralysis? [I made several notations of this while I had this sore throat for several days but it still happens all the time when waking up, it has nothing to do with the sore throat.]
4:20 pm meditation
[not asleep] Down behind the Miners' Foundry there's a man there like a sea captain and a brass and leather gizmo like a three-foot-tall tower with a polished three inch tall button near the base that is pushed down in order to send a thought away.
[not asleep] Behind Miners' Foundry again. I've been made to wait in a sort of separate guard house/apartment/octagonal enclosed island structure thing--"gazebo" is the word I'm thinking of, but smaller and more enclosed--while the other two (whoever they are) do it (whatever it is) without me. Finally I watch as I escape from the lit up white gloss gazebo and run towards me, the silent observer.
2016-02-12 12:12 am
... But the moon has come out and we're in downtown Nevada City, and so are a bunch of other people. I remark how light it is and silent companion says well what time is it and I say it's like two in the morning and then I point to the moon. It's as light as day and the moon is huge but there are no colors. It's all in black-and-white and gray. I think it must be an eclipse and an older woman on my right agrees that it is some certain kind of moon using exact words [which I forgot].
[This dream was solid color green even in the pitch black dark, except when the moon was big, and that was black and white.]
I am being bold, going somewhere spontaneously on my bike, even though there's snow and ice on the ground. I get to a large flat area right next to a two-lane highway in the mountains and enjoy skidding to a stop on the ice.
12:01 pm nap
[In the recent past my dream goal has been to meet compressed air engine inventor Bob Neal and start the first chapter in a new career: writing books about mysterious and controversial real people and events using OBE as a time machine to do the research. Have decided to have a closer short term goal too which right now is to look the silent companion in the eye and develop a more personable relationship with him.]
[LS2] [Had fallen asleep during a conversation with myself about the second G in hypnagogic's proper pronunciation like "J".] Two Head masks or face masks are attached by some strand. This is wrong, I detach it and reattach it via the strands associated with G.
[LS3] [Woke up with line of song I wrote 30 years ago:] "Clock makes us think we're running out of fun."
[Lots of LS, then got up for a couple hours, rode bike and walked around breathing.]
2:50 - 3:50 pm Lying down again.
[Good session, feels good, no LS, lots of air.]
2016-02-13 3:20 am
8:15 pm to bed
[I will start trying Michael Raduga's methods (MR); to bed to sleep 6 hours, then on awakening try an induction for 3-5 seconds, if no action try another one, then another one, for no more than one minute total. If no action go to sleep but if any hint of action do not give up. Aggressively make it work with intent. Each awakening do the same thing. The first second upon awakening is most important, if you catch that moment success is almost guaranteed. Don't use similar inductions, use four very different ones. First "just separate and go," next for example:
--Move into hypnagogic image, don't focus on details but look through the image.--Rotate on body's axis and when spinning is solid and real, roll out of body.--Momentum pendulum--spinning object moving toward and away, grab it and go (Bob Peterson method--see his video).
[Complex dream experience after less than three hours sleep, only part of which came back to me:] Comedian Lily Tomlin shows up, she's in charge. [The end of the dream:] I go upstairs--this is all on a huge ship, so Lily T. is Captain--into the main quarters of the captain and a bunch of people are up there sitting on the floor watching a movie. I ask for a piece of paper. I want to request a movie title. Then Lily T. announces that her dog will kiss the first person he sees as soon as he wakes up so I position myself--something goes terribly wrong but I don't know what--Then it's OK again. The dog wakes up and kisses me--weird stuff going on as if going in and out of phase with body while dream's going on thus confusing with dream plot.
[Dream ended with words:] "That's where Sue Bee Honey gets involved." [Woke into hypnagogic state so strong and deep I could still instantly create images large, detailed in living color minutes after waking. Still can, just turned off light and tried, it's easy. So will go back to bed now and aim for something OBE. As for Sue Bee Honey, that was about how anything good can and will be commercialized, but most of the dream is lost. Example of the many many detailed images seen with total spontaneity and effortlessly, after waking:] A large pastel red, white, and blue spiral drew itself around me in three dimensions and started rotating. Not facing me in 2 dimensions but around me, full size and three dimensions, in an otherwise pure white environment. [After writing all this... can I still see images? Still feel slightly hallucinogenic. Yeah, but not as strong, still big though. This is huge--absolutely unprecedented and unexpected.]
[Added note: Experiences such as the above seem to get better with age. Some considerable time after this--a month or two?--I had an experience in a grocery store with my wife where Sue Bee honey got involved in her sudden disappearance. We were standing in front of the imported honey shelves, I had expected a longer conversation about our choice of honey and then she was gone and unfindable literally in seconds, in a crowded grocery store when we were out of town, I was tired, and she does this disappearing act all too often--and suddenly I just put on the brakes, stopped looking for her, made a conscious decision to not get angry, and went to the check-out counter. THAT is when Sue Bee Honey got involved. This was a psychic dream that triggered an amazing hypnagogic experience. Also, notice that comedians are showing up in my dreams around this time. --ed.]
In a very large cafeteria in a very large building I see COMEDIAN Dan Ackroyd walking up to me since I am the winner. I try to be funnier than him which he seems to tolerate without enjoying. I tell him how much I like his suit and ask if I can put my hand in his pocket and he says no.
It's a short conversation, I get some kind of prize and he leaves.
[...at which time I also wrote the above fragments, having failed to get out of bed to do it before). Some of us are sitting around a table when a Robert Valair [not exactly the right name] is called to the phone. He doesn't appear, so I go to the phone instead of him. I say something smart-ass like, "This isn't Robert," but the person on the other end is not going to be tricked into thinking it's not him and she's like, "Very funny, Robert." Then she and I are making out in a chair when she realizes I'm not him and she runs up to us and tells herself to get out of the chair. She has long wavy bright red hair and I want to grab her breast through her brown T-shirt, but I don't.
5:30 am meditation
[not asleep] I find myself out in the garden--daytime--pulling some plastic garbage out of the ground. I start to take it over to the pugon [ruins of a small building where I burn trash] to deposit it inside, when I realize I'm upstairs meditating. I momentarily consider taking the trash upstairs to give it to my body so my body can take it to the pugon. I just end up back in body.
[Also from MR: in your first OBE you should look in the mirror.]
[Breathing while attempting to practice inductions suggested by MR including rubbing hands, rolling out, viewing images, lifting out, swinging momentum by B. Peterson, etc.]
[LS] Pushed straight down into the mattress with my left thumb and when I did this, I felt strong physical vibrations exactly like electric shock without pain in the thumb. Then realized this was not my waking body's thumb. Very intense and extremely real non-lucid OBE since I didn't realize it wasn't my physical body till I switched back to body awareness.
[Regarding progress in breathing. MATIW is working, it is now becoming much easier to breath a lot. The graduated counting method works well. At first, for a week or two, until yesterday, I did less intense breathing for most of the count and then intensified the depth and rate of breathing during only the last 10-20 counts. This worked well to get me used to the idea of breathing more, and gave me lots of experience with pleasant sensations of buzzing, etc. Very motivating. Yesterday and today I was sleepy, so lay down to breathe and the breathing woke me up. The blindfold is good, I like it. Today I started with intense breathing right from the start. Capacity has increased and resistance is down.]
[LS] "You thought you lost it? NO! That's what you get for thinking!"
[MR methods: Look at and touch everything around to deepen and maintain. Move quickly, aggressively, decisively. Rub hands together, inspect hands. Reality check: pinch nose and try to breathe. Have a plan of action. Mine is to:
--Meet the silent companion and
--Meet Bob Neal [an inventor whose life and work I've studied most of my life]--Astrally repeat to myself or to my silent companion all that has happened.
[MR on vibrations: "like being electrocuted without pain." ]
[Revised plan of action:
1. Go downstairs touching things along the way to achieve deepening. Once in the dining room, look in the full length mirror.2. Go to silent companion and look in his/her eyes and seek an ident to feel for next time.3. Visit Bob Neal.4. Write or relate verbally all that has taken place before waking up.
[Separation techniques to try upon each and every awakening without fail:
1. Just do it. Separate by flipping polarity and being repelled out of the body by natural force.2. Observe images--choose one--look through it--move into it or let it draw me into itself.3. Rotate inside body and when rotation is strong, roll out.4. B. Peterson's method (see video): see an object, make it spin, make it move toward and away from me, when this is stable, jump on and go out, riding on its momentum.]
[...and I wake up and before thinking about my goal, I go to scratch my butt. Not supposed to move--supposed to keep eyes closed and remain motionless.]
...I think how odd [as I'm waking up instead of becoming lucid. I got up and drank some water and peed and went back to the same neighborhood near Rhaes home, Salina.]
We've built wooden hangouts in two blocks near Rhaes's old house in Salina. They are my pride and joy and I wonder if they will make me famous. The one we're in also rotates...
[Every time I wake up I have to pee bad and I have a very dry mouth, so not moving seems kind of out of the question.]
[Lying down to breathe. I just remembered something from the hot springs days of continuous breathing when I was 24 years old. People were into affirmations and I wasn't, I hated them. So I had one and only one affirmation: "I can handle all the magic I have to offer myself."
[The best thing about today's breathing is many LS wherein I practiced not moving, but instead starting to try and separate immediately upon awakening...]
2016-02-16 4:10 am
[Went to bed 8:00 pm and did breathing 2 hours then slept solid till now with no awakenings. Now it's time to meditate.]
At Postal Center with Mr. Murray and two employees, one is Joel who I worked with at B. Pizza [who used to volunteer with autistic people and who told me there is no such thing as a "spectrum" of autism; a person is either autistic or they are not], and the other is the silent companion. There's no business and it's very silent. Someone turns on the radio but after two lines of a song it's switched off again. I get a small broom and sweep the whole floor, getting it very clean. I am proud of this and keep looking at it. The young man says he'll look for a can of floor polish at the store. We close up for the day... [I wake up lying on my back with a very dry mouth and have to pee. Forgot to not move.]
[Lying down to breathe. I previously had laid down for an hour before lunch and slept a lot because it was hot and I was not in the mood/lethargic.]
[I'm following an urge to use the many wakings from Little Sleeps during intense breathing sessions to practice dry-runs on the inductions, expecting nothing except to get used to robotically programming myself to do techniques without moving immediately upon awakening. Deep desire for results should be expressed in practice with unbending intent vs. childish obsession. In hopes that it is the techniques that work and the lack of practicing them that results in lack of results. I am urged to focus first on things I'm good at and what has worked for me. Secondly to practice new techniques. Inundation is not to be a childish obsession, addiction or exclusion of all else, not an emotional indulgence so much as a self-forced march to a predecided destination in spite of much resistance and mental objections along the way.]
I enter a drinking establishment to meet a group of friends. The top floor is closed, but something's going on downstairs so I go down. Only two of my friends have shown up, which I find disappointing. I sit down with Dean Freeman [an old drinking buddy from high school] and another (Silent Companion). Dean isn't happy to see me but I pretend not to notice. Since we are friends, he should be. I help myself to some of his special beer from a plastic pitcher and it's pretty interesting [I had dry mouth]. Dean is tight-lipped and goes upstairs and forgets to come back. Silent companion shrugs this off. The waiter is floating around--a gay fella with a PINK overalls outfit including stylized bra-like thing with pink strappy things tied in a diamond configuration covering his nipples--I ask how much it would be for another pitcher and he doesn't know. I doubt it's worth the money and don't want that much, so decide instead on a "Nice happy microbrew, dark and flavorful" which I enjoy.
We leave and get on a wheeled vehicle just big enough for our three butts (a large man has replaced Dean). We make it go by grabbing the sidewalk with our feet and pulling ourselves forward. The silent companion who sits next to me COMPLAINS to the large man on his right that he should be sitting straight forward because "going in a 570" [degree angle] isn't suitable. We perambulate a vegetable garden in the square surrounded by some apartments and young plants. It's tended by an Indian man.
Then silent companion asks if I want to go to Troll Day and I say OK since I'm hungry, but wondering what Troll Day is. We're inside a department store and walk down a few steps into an eating area and it's decorated with large troll dolls. I go into a light and friendly mood. Once again we're alone in the place. The waitress is a middle-aged woman with hair dyed platinum blonde. Everyone is in a jolly mood and I try to imagine what kind of tacky food will be served in a place like this that is purposely kitschy [like a David Lynch movie]. I make some smart remarks which I think are quite funny. Enjoying myself a lot [exact words forgotten].
At one point I had an experience of a phantom body part dipping into the bed, but I can't place this.
I was in a long narrow room being used as a homeless shelter. It was wide enough for two mattresses side by side and a narrow walkway at the edges. It was cement as if built into a space under a freeway or something. My parents showed up to claim me so I got my stuff together and people started carrying it out for me, which got me very worried that some of it would be stolen, also new homeless people were being moved in to replace me as I was just getting out, and I was afraid my stuff would get mixed up with theirs. To complicate things, there was no place to walk, with all the helpful people clogging up the aisles at the perimeter of the room, trying to carry my stuff out. I even had to walk on someone's mattress, I got so frantic. My parents talked me into leaving for the bank since they planned to help me out with money. I checked that all my stuff was in one pile outside the main sleeping area, and went with them with extreme trepidation since the stuff was even more exposed and anyone could take it, but I decided to trust the process and go with the flow.
It's night time so we're at outside banking windows, parents at two different windows so I was frantically going back and forth between parents who are not communicating with each other, which is fine since they seem to be doubling up on each others' efforts to write me more and more checks. There's some kind of confusion since my dad has written something other than my name on one of the checks and when I request clarification, my mom comes over. A foot-long scrap of wide brown paper packaging tape has fallen at his feet and I pick it up because it also has his writing on it.
I can't stand it any longer and go back to look for my stuff. I look for the pile where I left it and sure enough, it is all gone, every drop of it. I go back inside the shelter where the mattresses are and I'm lucky to find my wallet, fat and lonely on the floor. I can't believe no one saw it and took it. I go to the manager and complain about my missing stuff. He's a 30-something man with long shag haircut, dirty blond streaked with darker blond, wearing long faded jeans and plaid flannel shirt, but he's only posing as a hippie because he won't accept any responsibility for what has happened. I suspect that he is the one who has stolen my stuff since I also had a guitar. He won't entertain me. It's still night. [Added note: This character will re-appear in another dream some time later. It could easily be me, from the description, and I later learned that I tend to not recognize myself in my own dreams when I appear as someone else. --ed.]
I follow him to the next building which is an industrial building with clear glass doors across the front. I harass him some more and he tells me to leave. I watch him work through the glass doors, then I go in to harass him and he leaves to find his boss to get rid of me for good.
I sneak down a corridor and into a room of some kind and at the far wall of this small room I spot a suspicious-looking high-tech, hard plastic, big suitcase-like container. Warnings and instructions are printed on it. There's some official/technical/magical procedure that is supposed to produce the contents. I PUSH ON SOMETHING with my THUMBS, there's a HISSING SOUND, some gas is released, and the container opens. I am excited. I reach under a purple cloth and on the very far back right, I pull out a black plastic cubical box about three inches across, [similar to the circuit breakers I've been buying] and I am overcome with joy, because I "remember" that this is one of the objects that had been stolen. I find object after object that was mine, and I cry out "Oh my God" three or four times, and realize I'm dreaming [but wake up at the same time.]
[I carefully didn't move my body, but unfortunately had been sleeping on my back, so had to swallow several times to wet my dry mouth. Then I tried to remember how to get back into the dream. Viewing images seemed the most likely since I was seeing plenty of those, but they were flashing and darting around and I forgot to look through the image. I mentally begged Mr. Gravity to let me go, but it didn't work. Phantom wiggling of a finger almost worked, but I couldn't concentrate.]
Then I momentarily found myself spontaneously carrying out my dream plan, downstairs looking for the mirror. I was almost blind, but there was some blobby blue and green light. I tried to deepen by feeling the table that's in front of the mirror. I actually dipped my face into the mirror several times and kept seeing the green face of the Hulk which I was able to turn into something like my face. I could not get all the way into the scene so stayed with my body, tried breathing, had a few very fleeting returns to the dream state that didn't take, and finally gave up so I could get this written down as it is a milestone. [Also the symbology is relevant to my mission--getting my stuff back, not letting people take my stuff, accepting assistance from shadowy figures, staying calm, not giving up, remembering what I was supposed to be keeping track of, etc.]
[Many little sleeps.]
[LS] Voice speaking about Harrison Ford the actor saying that he says, "Oh my God" too much. [See conclusion of above dream just before I became lucid.]
[LS intensely real] [I was thinking about some contentious remarks on the OBE facebook group from someone trying to control the content of discussions. I was feeling spurned and angry when I] fell asleep and dreamed that I was doing a computer search on the OBE group for a phrase that made me angry. I started reading through the results for ammunition to feed the anger, but there was too much, a never-ending supply, so I stopped and woke up.
4:00 - 5:00 pm
[Lying down to breathe and do dry runs of OBE techniques with absolutely no attachment to results; just for practice and familiarization so method becomes rote. Realized that phantom wiggling is not about imagining motion of some phantom body. It is about feeling real sensations of motion in real body parts without moving any muscles.
[Mostly unstructured breathing--not much counting--several short naps between breathing sessions and aggressive attempts to move right pinky.]
[last LS] Just above me and slightly offset to the left, about a foot to fourteen inches from my face, as I lie on the floor, my body completely asleep, a face is looking down at me wiggling his eyebrows up and down. I wake up and I was physically wiggling my eyebrows very fast over and over. I wondered why and immediately remembered the shenanigans of my dream body once again trying to get my attention.
[I was in town sitting around waiting this morning so did a lot of breathing then and will do more. I even had LS in town. In regards to the obsession police, I doubt that Raduga's >2-3 day taboo really applies except to first time novices. I seem to be having small results several times a week despite considerable one-pointedness. I am quite enamored with the revelations from MR that one doesn't IMAGINE when doing any technique (except visualization techniques). You really try to move, you will really feel it, and it will feel real. As I already know from sounds and visions, you look/listen for what is really there and when you detect it you amplify on it. You don't generally "visualize" in the sense of imagining. This is a good point and a correction to many unsuccessful periods of obsession prior to the current one.
[LS, one of many, lying on back] My dream body suddenly pushed all fingertips of both hands into the foam pad and a solid vibration was the result, which woke me up. The vibration was not as fast--this didn't seem as electrical or shocking--as the thumb push experience a week or so ago. Maybe 5-7 hz quite unmistakeable. [... Another thing I'm trying is to never get up to pee during a session and try to ignore dry mouth--don't swallow so much. Because this is what's messing me up at night--I wake up motionless as intended, but still have to swallow and peeing is the first thing I think about. I am a somewhat compulsive pee-er and have learned that stopping the thought stops the need, although sometimes it's not optional obviously. In fact writing about it like this is making it seem non-optional right now. I will experiment right now with ignoring the urge to see if it will go away or not. Another thought I had today is that going back to sleeping on my side to try and do away with dry-mouth awakenings is not going to work. I have found since I started breathing so much that the body knows when to secrete saliva into the mouth and the constant urge to swallow at the slightest dryness of mouth can be ignored till it's no longer a habit. This is the frontal attack which I need to mount against the "need" to swallow hard 4 or 5 times upon awakening. This is what's keeping me out of the zone. Cure for dry mouth: Close mouth and wait. Swallowing is optional. When saliva starts flowing again, it will take care of itself.]
2016-02-19 6:30 am
[I had a dream that I didn't get up to record but I think I went back to the same dream anyway and just more or less picked up where I'd left off.]
In the roommate apartment [one of my recurring dream locales]. The person I'm talking to is a relaxed, schlumpfy type, the type of person who is totally alone in the world but never bored, quiet but not shy, private but not paranoid, and this guy looks like Carlos Castaneda. [I had been thinking of dreaming about him earlier in the day, but it didn't occur to me till I started to write this down that it was him.] He's telling me about his work, which is not so much a career or business or even lifestyle as it is a full-blown case of living without restraint or fear, going where his nose leads him, and never looking back. What he actually does is to lead world tours. [I'm just trying to describe how it feels when he tells me this, because this guy is no tour guide.]
Another roommate in the apartment is named Michael, and also looks like Carlos Castaneda, but is the right height (5 ft 4 in) whereas the tour master is like an expanded version. [It only occurred to me as I write this that they both look similar.] Mikey is asleep in the bathtub. I ask the other one if Mikey is his customer and he says yes.
A woman shows up in a business suit. She has dark hair, not long. She's there to see me about new lyrics she's written for a worn-out old song that no one cares about anymore. She's normally a businesswoman or bureaucrat, so this is out of character for her. The lyrics are printed by computer on both sides of a small piece of paper. I read through the lyrics and appreciate them.
I'm standing about ten feet behind an old brown couch where three people are sitting. The one on the left is Sherry who is smiling and winking and trying to get my attention, so of course I feel a strong pull, but manage to avoid giving her my full attention while simultaneously grieving the loss of her company which I deeply desire (Cwahacoy).
[A blonde couple occupies most of the rest of the dream, but I can't remember the details. They appear to be somewhat untameable and unpredictable, dipping into street life and coming back to the apartment to recover. That description doesn't do justice to the large part they played in the second half of this dream, which is all forgotten because of what happened next.]
The blonde woman has just gone from the bathroom to her bedroom, and the silent companion ("Carlos") and I enter the bathroom. The bathtub is full of smelly dark red blood. I remark that the blonde girl could do a better job of cleaning up after herself and silent companion confirms that it is her menstrual blood.
[I woke up at that point with my body full of that buzzy dream energy and all flashy full of light. You know what I can do when I wake up like that: images. But I had moved a little and so my first reaction was, darn I blew it, now I can't try anything. But I remembered what I'd read yesterday in MICHAEL Raduga's book along the lines of, "Don't let the mind so easily trick you into giving up." So I half-heartedly tried a technique or two--sinking into the bed, whatever, didn't get any results, then remembered two important things. One: don't be attached to results, and two: try to go back to sleep while doing any technique.]
[I quickly found myself swimming in hypnagogic images. They just kept coming for at least 30 minutes in spite of the fact that it was light outside already and I had no blindfold, someone was playing rock music a few houses away, someone was playing basketball next door, I had a dry mouth and I had to pee, and T. was rolling around in the bed bumping into me and kicking me. It was absurdly easy to keep the images coming, part of the time in color with a dark background, part of the time with a monotonic sepia, part of the time in black and white, but continuously moving and changing, no static images.]
[At first I was shocked and annoyed that the images were so negative. I don't mean kinda icky, I mean aggressively repugnant and vile. Monstrous faces and heads exploding or quickly morphing into even more horrible faces. Nightmarish images of flesh being stripped from heads, rotten corpses, cartoon monsters, real monsters, all non-stop, quickly changing from one thing to another.]
[I could have stopped it at any time by deciding to. We're not talking about schizophrenia here. I do not hallucinate and when I see hypnagogia I know it's hypnagogia. I decided there must be a reason for the nasty images forming, large as life and in living color, in my fully awake consciousness. I did keep an inner eye open for something more pleasant. I don't even watch these kinds of movies, not because I find them scary, but because I just think they're stupid.]
[I was able to take occasional breaks from this noisy, offensive imagery whenever views of walking people became visible. I clung to these tenaciously, hoping their neutrality would lead away from the mayhem, but the sinister mental garbage kept coming back. The neutral images of walking people were comforting, though, like a breath of fresh air. They consisted of large numbers of people walking in one direction. This action seemed unforced, calm or even robotic, a lot of it in sepia or black and white, and some of the scenes taking place in a misty or foggy atmosphere. These scenes were easy to maintain for a long time, but whenever I got bored with them, the zombies, monsters and corpses came back.]
[At several points the scenes became hard to make out, not because of lacking detail, size, or resolution, but because there was more than one scene super-imposed on top of each other. I just waited this out and it cleared up.]
[Remembering MR's instructions to enter the scene, I tried but never quite did. Too seldom I remembered the most important thing, which is to look through the scene, not at it, to induce motion into and through it.]
[Finally some of the energy seemed dissipated to the point where I could have a slight degree of control over the content. I chose a nearly blank frame, viewed it panoramically and waited for something to move or change. It developed into a vertical slit in solid stone, opening up in front of me. I kept moving into this "dreaming gate" as it seemed to be, and it kept opening. There was no top or bottom of the vertical slit, and seemingly no end to the depth. It never opened into onother scene, it just kept opening into more and more dull gray and brown stone, as if I were being let through a whole mountain. Eventually I got tired of watching and just lay there going over the details of the night's dream and the morning's hypnagogia.]
[Lying down to breathe... quickly and forcefully, then relaxed and tried to relax into sleep while making good progress on phantom wiggling. Right hand is numb or doesn't detect the foam pad so??? What the heck, who's to say it's not working, so I focused on that and it spread up through forearm, was getting some slight wiggling and trying to spread to upper arm when LS hit. Relevant words with LS1 and LS2 forgotten.]
[LS3] I'M FLOATING in a vertical position a few inches off the ground. Have to get through a narrow spot between obstacles. Have to wait motionless for a larger vehicle to go through first coming towards me. When it's gone, I go on through, thinking, "I was here first." [This wakes me up. There is a strong sound of throbbing vibration outside in reality, a loud truck engine is idling close to the house.]
[This is Friday night--per MR I am permitted to try hard for separation on Fri-Sat-Sun, but in my opinion the addition of meditation twice every day and a long daily breathing sessions as well as my previous experience of ~two dozen or so lucid dreams etc. means I'm not truly a novice. Should be able to do this stuff seven days a week.]
[Went to sleep from last awakening with the soft, bittersweet piano solo "Charlie Brown Christmas" running through my head--I had been wondering what other era than the 1960s could have engendered such a complex yet simple rendering of the Peanuts comic strip complete with the perfect music portraying the simple complexity of real life--when I woke up, the song was still running through my head and I'd just been woken accidentally by being touched on the leg when T. rolled over in his sleep. At the moment I was awoken, I would have likely become lucid as the dream was up to that point a classic pre-lucid dream including a false awakening.]
In Kansas but the house reminds me of my maternal grandmother's house [who died when I was five--my only strong memory of her house before her death is her piano.]
I'm sitting at a big upright piano thinking about tuning devices and/or software for generating tones when this sort of thing becomes generally available to me without actually being conspicuous. I'm playing what I think is an F note, and other white notes especially C and A, when I realize this is a low C, not middle C, then I realize I've got E mixed up with F [F-A-C-E are the spaces between the lines on the treble clef].
I decide I'm making too much noise since Mark is sleeping--it's daytime, no one else is there--so I put on headphones for the tone generator and try to continue but can't. So I get into the big bed with him--there's a mosquito net--and as I clamber into the right side of the bed [where I now sleep in reality, with a mosquito net,] I see he's sitting up in bed already. Mark is blond as in real life, but only about ten years old which surprises me so I start talking to him: "Hmmm... I'm 60... uh... in my fifties... er... 59... so you should be in your late 50s... do you ever look back and wonder what you might do differently?" I realize that, in my case, the answer would be "nearly everything," but I can't say it because I am wracked with deep, silent sobbing.
I lose consciousness and wake up walking down the sidewalk toward the green lawns of the University campus. I'm on the left side of the street. It's daytime, warm, no cars. Two blonde young women are walking ahead of me, side by side. An older blonde woman walks across the street diagonally in front of me and joins the other two. I happen to notice some more blonde women behind me, and I hear one of them remark, "Wow, look how many blondes there are!"
I start counting, and in fact every person visible to me, walking on either sidewalk, is a blonde woman. I Carefully count 18 young blonde women and carefully examine the hair color of the one older woman to ascertain that her hair is really blonde, not gray or white, and it is in fact blonde.
Having entered the campus by now, I am passing small green trees on green lawns. I'm very aware that the women walking maybe 30 to 40 feet behind me are watching me as I begin to float into the air. I entertain them by dog-paddling with my arms as if swimming through the air, and deep throbbing chuckles start welling up in me and bubbling out. I am now the dream character Limberluck, the carefree and happy-go-lucky street dweller, and the laughter is coming out of me like something under pressure. As it comes up it boosts me higher, powering my flight.
[At this point I would probably have become lucid if I hadn't been awakened. All the signs were there: remembering the configuration of the piano notes, remembering how old I am and how old Mark should be, counting blonde women, all of which indicated highly focused attention to detail and concern with the facts. Sense of hearing and sight were vivid and strong, and logic was being used as well as counting. This was a classic lucid dream cut short. I predict more fireworks before the night is through. It's been over an hour since I woke from it. Charlie Brown xmas still stuck in my head. It's now 12:42 am.]
2016-02-20 5:45 am
[Missed opportunities due to lethargy, love of sleep, and the usual having to pee and dry mouth which causes movement upon awakening and then not trying inductions after that.]
[Time to meditate, then will try to sleep more at 6:30 am.]
[Above dream about Mark was ANOTHER ESP DREAM. When I opened the computer to facebook today I wasn't surprised to see a picture of Mark right at top, but then I looked again and again. I had to wonder if it is a current picture, in other words, how old is he in the picture? As per dream content, which was once again an inaccurate reflection of a later event.]
[Lying down to breathe. Intention is to
A) Practice levitation, hand rubbing, images, wiggling, and once out of body to look into mirror, ask the silent companion these questions: 1) Are you the silent companion from my dreams? 2) Are you me? 3) If not me, who are you? B) DIVE into mirror with eyes closed, intending to travel to Bob Neal and engine...]
[Knees and elbows bent to prevent immediate sleep.]
[LS1] "I thought ____ meant..." [Something about owning other subsidiary patent rights associated with Monroe's Hemi-Sync; woke up resolving to make a quick check on Google Patents for Monroe's heirs. In reality, I wasn't aware that I was interested in hemi-sync.]
[LS2] Repeat of prior LS but without the symbology, I am INSTRUCTED, SHOWN BY DOING, to take the journey down and out away from body awareness through shades on a continuum keeping a constant thread of awareness from step one to the next. I experienced (and saw as rectangles of successively darker grays) going deeper and deeper (i.e. further from body awareness) through five successive discrete steps, not slow but in about two seconds, boomboomboomboomboom. I actually experienced this, arrived at the fifth step where I had no contact with the body, and awoke directly from there to the notion that this was the same message as that intended to be conveyed by the last LS.
[Just took a long break to eat a sandwich. Before that I tried adding full chest breathing because I wasn't satisfied with the effect of breathing as hard and fast as possible via belly breathing only. Not breathing fast, but with fullness, I got a strong vibration in only six breaths. Now lying down to try this more, with extra pillows for chest support. So upper body is not leaning back into soft foam mattress.]
...Got a real phantom wiggling of right pinky. Unmistakeable, not a function of imagining. Have to aggressively push energy into that finger. Then concentrated on blue, remembered to look through it instead of at it, and it became a ground level view of white painted furniture and small dogs. Remembered to touch everything including dogs and keep moving. Came to a door, felt it all over, opened it but couldn't jump into the darkness, not strong enough visual/physical feeling. Changed the door to one that opened toward me and let there be a mirror in the opening. Saw bright white light where my head should be, with rays coming out. Started over with blue blob, moved into it by looking through it, not at it. Again floor level white apartment painted square baseboards and walls, turning this way and that, like an endless hallway with no doors. Went down a notch now, seeing someone pushing a weird wheeled device with a wooden horse leg attached to it so as the thing is pushed from left to right across my field of vision, the leg swings forward, grabs floor, and appears to walk alongside the big wheel about the size of a bicycle wheel. All at floor level, never saw anything more than 2-1/2 feet off the floor. Last thing before stopping--decided to do the different colors, but got stuck on orange. Had a hard time turning the visual field into orange streaks and splotches. Could only get dots and stuff, and not perfect clear orange. So I got aggressive and commanded ORANGE! over and over. Relaxed and gave up and waited. Soon a large shiny tangerine appeared, and kept appearing, resolving and re-resolving itself on the screen.]
2016-02-21 6:00 am
[I've been having an abnormally low number of awakenings in the night now that it's my job. How contrary of me. It's Sunday morning and 6 a.m. is by when the neighbors have cranked up their stereo. Worst of the 70s is hard to sleep to, could be worse but I also have to record dreams. The dream method (keeping a journal and trying to become lucid) and the awakening method (MR's "indirect techniques") are incompatible. Because both occupy the same time slot: the first moments after awakening. In one you're asking yourself what just happened, in the other you're trying to leave your body and not think about anything. So for the awakening method I have to rely on daytime naps and little sleeps because I'm not gonna give up my dream journal. So night is for sleeping and dreaming including lucid dreaming; day is for OBE and induction practice.]
Sandia Mountains, foothills, suburbia. Where is JDM? Still alive? Maybe in an institution. Silent companion shows me the institution and I'm inside but shy to see him. JDM is in a dorm room, I have to walk past another bed to get to his, how embarrassing. The other occupants are children. There he is, OOPS his fly is open and he's asleep, he'll be mad if he knows I saw him, I better leave. He's wearing his black slacks and bright green button-down shirt, like always.
It's darkish in the dorm and his woman (Cwahacoy) is a resident too. She's fascinating. A little thick-bodied maybe, but maybe not, it's hard to tell. She's so very white, she almost glows in the dark. She is certainly unforgettable. We're sitting on a hospital bed. I'm sitting at the pillow end and leaning against a wall. She's kneeling on the bed next to me, facing the wall, smiling while she talks. That drives me crazy. I want to eat her alive. She wants to hide her small white computer (tablet) under the covers of the bed. [How'd this get to be my bed?] She's wearing a cotton print dress, white with dark blue little objects all over it, or maybe dark blue dots. She seems so substantial. Her wavy hair is tied back. Her platinum blonde hair is shiny, I mean shiny. In this light, it seems silvery on the outside and dark brown in the shadows of the long twists of curls that hang about six inches from her temples. Her hair is like a waterfall of ecstasy.
Is this one of JDM's movies? [In real life I suspect he is a Hollywood art director, but I haven't seen him in 40 years.] Part of the following is like a movie I'm watching and part is participated in.
We're at a house, outside the house, an isolated country house--her house--but the house itself is possessed, a battleground for contentious and willful, powerful beasts of non-physical nature. [Many details lost, forgotten, or skipped, to the climax of the story.] I find it odd that the credits are now rolling--why is the movie ending during the final takeover of the house? I'd prefer a triumphant ending, conquest of good over evil, what a waste.
So it's ended badly for JDM and his woman [not a movie anymore] and she's now a recluse, a victim of these horrible conflicts not of her doing. What a tragedy, I have to see her--what if I could get her out of that house--how could anyone give up on her??? JDM is now silent companion. He leads me in through the garage on right--the door is gone. The main part of the house had been in a conflagration of fiery collapse. It is now deeper than a house. Very dangerous, these forces are not to be messed with.
Once in the garage, I go to turn left into the house's side entrance, but JDM has blocked this way with a web of white cotton string stretched across the opening to keep people from venturing down into the hellishness left behind by the conflagration. He takes me to the next level down, but I can't find her. It's all new concrete, rough walls and some of it has long parallel grooves that were molded into the concrete when it was made. Very sparse and barren, not a happy place for a possessed woman to have to live.
Well, she's not here--oh, there's another level? The word "sub-basement" occurs to me. The lowest level is worse, still a lot of white paint, but the room where she hides is big and dark. So I'm not allowed to see her, am I? Oh so this is all my fault, is it? The interaction of my supposedly aberrant vibration with hers was the cause of this maelstrom? I can't just accept that, I have to see her, maybe I can help. JDM appears in a bright white suit and jacket. Smiling, he beckons to a place behind me.
So I can see her after all! I spin around. I have to venture into her dark room. She's in there, alone. We meet, what a relief! The yearning to meld forever with this creature is too strong, like a force field that I can't penetrate. [The rest was conspicuously blotted from memory; I knew it was there and I knew it was not accessible to me.]
[Lying down to breathe. Full deep breathing including chest breathing, started this yesterday--much more buzzy than just pumping with the diaphragm which I had started doing...]
[One hour interruption...]
[LS2] Awoke in panic thinking I couldn't breathe (probably a suspended breath and/or sleep paralysis). Finally got the breathing mechanism in gear and made an involuntary sound as air entered. Painless of course, the suspended breath is harmless as far as I know. Ran through some techniques, no hint of anything working except a clear shot of a small blue spiral which dissipated quickly. Was about to go back to breathing when I realized there was a loud hissing sound. Listened for a minute or two and noticed it got louder when I concentrated on it. Not the same as the high-pitched sizzling sound I hear when I am breathing very fast.
In a last attempt I try to command the color "lime green" to appear. [See below Feb 22 12:45 pm LS1.] A few jets and dots and sparkles come up, but not much. Somehow I entered a hypnagogic image that I don't even remember except it was a strong spontaneous image. Then I began to visualize/tactilize a technique I've invented which is to imagine two handles screwed to the ceiling and feel myself hanging from them. While doing that, I strained my body unphysically per MR (an induction technique supposed to cause vibrations). Got a strong involuntary twitch in right hand or arm which I took as a good sign, so hastened to clear the mind and float. Soon I did see/feel from both perspectives. My dream body simply nodded at the physical body from up by the ceiling. This was clear and concise, noted simultaneously by both bodies, but involuntary. Unlike similar dream body events of very short duration, this was not in LS, I was not asleep, only in a very short lapse of consciousness. And at the same moment that I nodded down at my physical body, my physical head twitched. [So it's working. Slow but sure I am getting there.]
Clear sunny day, I'm walking down a steep sandy slope in the outskirts of the city when I see a GURU and his wife hobbling down a similar foot path not far from me. The guru is small and has long white hair. Next time I look he's walking alone. I am excited to talk to him and head across the field on another path to intercept him, but momentarily doubt that I will know what to say, and doubt my motivation. He sees me heading his way and shakes his head "no".
So I continue on my path which leads to the monastery/dormitory where he lives. I'm in a wardrobe supply room close to a back door. I look at a report or bulletin of compiled guru contributions and see that the part written by the guru of interest has been cut out, about half a page. The report is several pages long and mimeographed on orange and yellow paper. I am able to glean the man's name and position--he has something to do with agriculture.
I look on a clothes rack for a jacket just like the one he was wearing. The jackets are all sleeveless and white denim. Each one has a different white denim embellishment sewed to it. The last one I look at has tassles cut into a fringe like the Davy Crockett fringe we used to have as kids.
[I woke up with dry mouth having to pee, realize I'm missing the chance and feeling no confidence or motivation, but force myself back to sleep instead of swallowing hard five times, drinking water, peeing, stretching, etc. This is progress.]
Aware that something else is going on, but can't remember what it is. I'm in line in a large bank with fancy wood paneling, high ceilings, and brass decorations. A guy named MICHAEL, dressed in a mechanic's uniform, dark red hair and moustache, speaks to me: "I'll give you $200 to take Cody..." [forgot the other words]. Something about taking him away alone. I don't know Michael and don't know what he's talking about, but I fill it in with pseudo-memories and reply, "You mean you want me to take him away for some quality time away from all the drinking." He affirms this.
I'm walking across a vacant lot [Let's call this place the Outskirts of the City instead of Portland] At dusk with Terra [who has a grandson named Cody]. She's wearing a long coat. She asks me if I'm taking such-and-such a supplement because I seem to be very clear-headed right now. I grab her and say, "This is how clear headed I am!" and set her down on my knees. I'm sitting on thin air. I start kissing her, and she's not unresponsive, but our glasses are clicking together and hers get pushed up on her forehead.
She wants to know where I'm planning to take her grandson Cody. I point to the general area, which is a river I like to go to. I imagine being there, with deeply felt longing. I picture in my mind how to get there from here. There's a nice sunset. I wonder if Cody will be afraid.
I continue along the way, with Cody in my arms, it's dark, and Michael is with us, but he's now taller with dark brown hair and moustache, mechanic's uniform. On the left is an all-night Machine Shop, a familiar place too [from other dreams. All these dream places lately seem familiar.] The doors are open as it is a warm summer night. We walk along the sidewalk with the building on our left, turn the corner left and start down the other side of the building. Michael is acting erratic. He goes inside with a rifle and points it at some guys who are lined up, and makes sounds with his mouth, pretending to shoot them in the face. They just stand there.
I've had enough of Michael, so while he's busy acting weird, I start jogging with Cody in my arms to try and ditch his father. I consider going into open doors, but pass them by, then see one opening into a large empty garage area leading to another open door on the next side of the building. I decide to run through the well-lit garage to cut off the corner and put me farther ahead.
[T. rolled over in the bed and bumped me awake but not before I notice that] while I'm running through the garage, I hear my own voice speaking to me aggressively: "You can adjust what you think you want. You do not think! You do not think!" [I memorized this as I lay in bed going over the details. These words were clearly in my own voice and I could still hear the exact intonation. It's obvious from this--I am trying hard to communicate with my dream body, to truly inhabit the dream body with the conscious mind... In spite of getting woken up too much and living in a noisy place with dogs barking all night etc. etc., I am making steady progress. But I might start sleeping on the foam after the first awakening so I don't get bumped awake so much.]
Someone teenage pokes his head upstairs, sees me and runs. I pursue. The teenager with two companions, one of whom is Silent Companion, is terrified and his friend vouches for him. I insist he had to be a thief; why run if not guilty? I know I'm wrong, but I'm not going to lose face by backing down. I am carrying the person upside down by the feet and ranting.
A man known to the family goes upstairs without my permission and I follow. He gets several coins out of a little dish without permission and goes back downstairs. He barely glances at me. I am furious, these people are goading and baiting me. The man is solid like a rock. Everyone knows he's OK. He is practically daring me to make a fool of myself by accusing him. He shows me the teenager I'd accused and says the boy is "demure". He considers the case closed and leaves.
He strides away across the rock strewn yard, knowing he's right and I'm wrong. I'm totally humiliated. I rush out to the yard, dive onto my knees, grab several rocks about 1-1/2 inches in diameter, and start throwing them, even though the yard is full of people. One hits him square in the back, and although I don't notice, the man--who is already square, stocky, flat-top haircut, square head--momentarily turns into a slab of granite just as the rock hits, then turns back into a man.
He looks over his shoulder and laughs at me, where I sit on my knees in the dirt. I realize that his laugh is compassionate and understanding, he is not mocking me. I feel the humor in the situation and shout (in regards to having hit the man with my rock),"Five points!" I look at the rocks on the ground in front of me. They've all got clear quartz crystals growing out of them. The ground is littered with beautiful crystals. I pick up a small one. It is thin and flat with a perfect point.
[Lying down to sleep/breathe/OBE/dream.]
[LS1] As my dreambody, I toss two objects on the ground and point to them so my other dream body--the one lying down on the foam--will"wake up" and pay attention. I do so and see the objects are two tiny GREEN LIMES [lemoncito--cross between lime and kumquat] lying on the ground about 20 inches from each other and a few feet from me. I get up and grab the one on the left and toss it, but am surprised when I have dream lethargy (sleep paralysis) and as hard as I thought I was throwing it, it only went a few feet. Simultaneously I felt as if my real body had also tried to toss it, but barely twitched. [This twitch woke me up in that panicky paralysis at the end of a suspended breath, but not as scary this time.]
[LS3] Dreambody is demonstrating to me--both of us conscious--how he can climb a ladder one rung at a time, and BRING MY PHYSICAL BODY SMOOTHLY OUT OF SLEEP INTO WAKEFULNESS IN FIVE STEPS. [I woke with no gasp for air or breath paralysis like what I'd been getting lately. When I first woke, I experienced this as a pseudo-memory--the notion that I had had this experience at some distant point in the past, "sort of but not really"--as if I had dreamed it--but as I obtained full consciousness I realized it was a case of dual awareness like LS1 above in which dreambody and I are sharing the same mind. This also happened yesterday (the nodding). While mulling this over, I fell asleep FAST [LS4] and woke up to one of those strong twitches that we get when dreambody kicks or slaps us awake.]
[LS5] Voice 1 of me: "What's in your pocket?" Voice 2 of me: "Who are you going with? That's more important."
[Slept for a while. When I woke, I had an excellent hypnagogic session, but was unable to find a mirror--should have tried separation instead of wandering around looking at things. I have to stress that all these dreambody encounters are NON-LUCID OBEs. They usually last only seconds because the "little sleep" or LS only lasts seconds. If I were not in the habit of asking myself, "What just happened" as soon as I wake up, then these tiny experiences might be lost; would definitely not be remembered. It requires an act of will to remove my blindfold, roll over, and write them down in excruciating detail, knowing I don't want them to be lost.]
2016-02-23 6:00 am
[Woke up at 5:15, peed and went back to bed thinking about house remodeling etc., didn't try to sleep.]
[In a light sleep.] Dreambody is spontaneously RUBBING HANDS TOGETHER VIGOROUSLY but as if skin is stuck together. The two hands are not sliding or rubbing, not making a sound.
[New breathing room downstairs--not on floor anymore. Dark curtains, dark blanket for divider...]
2016-02-24 12:30 pm
[Lying down in new breathing room, first time. Very tired and sleepy, ate a heavy lunch at 11:00 am, then drank coffee (1/2 decaff,) while re-reading dream journals.]
[Tiny lapse--not really asleep. Lying on back with elbows and knees bent--this helps me to expand the chest on breathing--knees up--this posture vs. lying flat on back with arms and legs straight also helps me to not drop off quickly to sleep. I've been practicing the not-doing of going to sleep--going through the steps except trying not to take the final plunge.] Again I am AWARE IN TWO BODIES or awareness is split between two bodies... Dreambody says to me: "Sun Elbow." which I hear from my perspective lying in bed with my elbows in the air. Then (or simultaneously) I SEE MYSELF FROM DREAMBODY'S PERSPECTIVE--a clear view of two pale chapped wrinkled big old elbows pointing straight forward and a little up. I respond from my bed, "Not likely." (Which may or may not be the exact words but there were exact words before I forgot them). Woke up smoothly because I was barely asleep. [Once again the awareness of body is divided between the so-called physical and the so-call dream bodies resulting in double memory of the same thing. As I progress, I think this is the direction I seem to be going, eventually I expect that the awareness of the physical will either merge with the awareness of the dreambody, or will become "me" out of the body while the one outside, which I am calling dreambody now, will become the silent companion. For some reason I keep getting the impression that dreambody is wearing a roll-up fishing hat in which case he is actually Limberluck the happy-go-lucky dream persona I sometimes am able to take on my most euphoric dreams including the last flying dream I had a few days ago. This is the result I'm hoping for: to merge with Limberluck. Because he's a lot more fun than I am.]
[The progress I'm now making with at least one mini non-lucid OBE each afternoon that I lay down to breathe--more than I ever expected, so that kinda says that the problem with why it has taken so long, besides lack of practice, has been lack of confidence. Now that I see a direction to go, I am getting there...]
[Meditation, then breathing. Developed a desire visualization for the color pink which I intend to dream about lucidly tonight.]
[Brownout. At this time we are having daily and twice-daily power outages, minimum two hours or more each time. This is good for the practice because it eliminates most distractions, puts me and everyone around me into an altered state of mind automatically, brings nature's awsomeness to the forefront, and makes breathing seem like something someone might want to sit around doing, or walk around doing. Also, it's the dry season so a good time to go for walks in the evening when there's no electricity. Will breathe some more.]
[I just remembered realizing that, back at the hot springs in 1980, I didn't want to stop or limit the kind of breathing I was doing. It didn't happen all at once, but I just remembered the process of going over the hump where it was no longer a chore; I knew I was hooked and never wanted to stop.]
[Above rememberance was stimulating. I was able to recall that state to a certain extent, then rolled over and went to sleep. Some crazy mystical time later, I woke up remembering nothing except wowness--hypnagogia x 10, but don't know what that was, just wow. Nothing describable.]
[Power's still out. Walked around in the baskeball court. The kids are dancing in the moonlight, no school tomorrow. I'm still breathing. Fingers tingling. Back to the breathing room to do it lying down. Whatever happened while I was asleep I would love to remember it. My pillow case was drenched with ??? when I woke up, but I don't know why, my shirt was dry. It's nice and cool outside. When there's no electricity, people go directly into an altered state of consciousness. No TV, computers, video games, but it goes deeper than that. It strikes a primal memory--suddenly we're natives, like camping but without the crazymaking preparations and supplies brought along. Suddenly we're alone in the world without 90% of our technology. It's awesome.]
[Power came on so I'll eat some crackers and go to bed. It's hot in the breathing room since the new curtains don't open yet.]
[...Long dream, details forgotten. For three nights I've listened to the Lying Whisper of Death telling me to "go to sleep, do not write the boring dreams down."]
[...Woke up and miraculously REMEMBERED NOT TO MOVE OR SWALLOW, just closed my mouth to let the saliva gradually take care of the dry mouth. Kept eyes closed and decided to go back to the dream. Noticed that the vibration of the body and the sizzling sound are exactly the same as the sensations caused by breathing. Realized I was not being aggressive enough. Tried levitation, rotation, nothing. Tried being recklessly aggressive, flopping from side to side, arching up. Some visualization came with this, but nothing spontaneous.]
[Decided to plant myself back in the University Library and started rubbing and smelling and kissing the books. Tried to read, but pages blank. Sat on top of the top shelf of books and felt the cardboard covers dig into the bottom of my thighs. Suddenly realized that I had] briefly slipped into the scene proper--dreambody made a slight motion of the hands from his stance at front left of the scene. (That fishing hat seems to be what gets my attention now. Memories of him have him as a ghostly figure outlined in neon blue.) This kept me interested, and shortly after this, I woke up in the scene only for an instant, lying rigidly on my stomach on the top landing of a staircase with legs projecting back rigidly into the air over the top steps. I experienced the pressure on my abdomen at the edge of the top step and also sumultaneously or alternately saw myself lying there from the vantage point of dreambody (dual awareness again).
[Awake now, I decided to climb more stairs, so visualized another staircase and started climbing it. Tried to feel the feet slapping each step and counted the steps, but around then J. and T. woke up and I stopped for the time being. This would have been a pointless visualization exercise except that it worked. Not with fanfare of angels, or fireworks, but it did work. Reading books where writers of course detail their most intricate and amazing experiences did not prepare me for the way this skill is actually built, from fleeting glimpses of what just happened, mundane tidbits gradually compiling into a body of results, substance coming together from wisps of this and scraps of that...]
[Tiny Lapse, not quite a Little Sleep, during a very long, slow breath:] Riding to Maduao on the back of a motorcycle, I jump off at the farm without waiting for the driver to stop. [Then, while wondering how to classify the above, since it was spontaneous, not premeditated or visualized but not very physical:] In a standing formation of shadowy hazy figures, one figure suddenly stands out. That is my dreambody, second row back and all the way to the right--only about ten feet away from me. Simultaneously I strongly experience the suction of sleep, but the sighting of my dreambody wakes me up.
[Hard to concentrate, too much energy, will walk around the court and breathwalk instead of in this room--wind died down and it's kinda stuffy.]
[Just finished walking. Got real high breathing, too dizzy, and rested for five minutes, then took another couple laps walking before I stopped. Remembered that at one point during today's breathing session I was overcome with emotion at how good it felt to breathe, forgot to write it down.]
[Second brownout today--back to the cave--I am sleepy, so will plan for the Suction of Sleep in order to use the slingshot to keep me in a strong kinetic orbit around the physical. Instead of going deep asleep, focus the energy to take me where I want to go. Plan of action same as before--mirror--silent companion in chair--dive into mirror--visit Bob Neal.]
2015-02-26 3:05 pm
[Lying down in the breathing room...]
[After an LS I found myself ignoring the technique because it suddenly didn't seem very interesting. Came up with a new terminology: IDIOSSIFY. The following is in my dream journal, not added later:]
Idiossification is when you go dull due to listening to the Voice of your Inner Idiot telling you that the techniques are boring or difficult or that you should just try them tomorrow instead. Idiossification is the process whereby a person talks himself into not trying, by any means necessary, because he'd rather continue his currently addictive lifestyle of doing nothing of interest 1/3 of his life while his body sleeps. Idiossification is to turn off the motivation that makes you read and study OBE books during all your waking hours and then when the opportunity arises to go OBE, idiossification makes you go limp and dull, you get that glazed-over look, and downright stupid and pretty much unnecessary to your own existence.
Idiossification. Learn the signs, learn them well, and then get with the program. No more excuses.
Idiossification's greatest achievements include the following common pronouncements heard from the Voice of the Inner Idiot:
--"I can't breathe while I'm doing (fill in the blank)."--"That dream was boring. I won't get up to write it down."--"I already moved my leg when I woke up, so I won't even try to go OBE."--"I have to pee."--"I feel a little hungry."--"My lungs are tired."--"My throat is too dry."--"I think I'll buy another OBE book instead of practicing the techniques I already have."--"I can't breathe deeply right now, someone might notice."--"My blindfold is hot."--"I forgot my chapstick."--"What if I choke to death on my own saliva?"
[Still breathing. Tried to stop to eat/bathe/meditate but recognized the voice of the inner idiot and was able to continue breathing instead. Noticed while writing that the physical act of writing today seems almost self-powered. Same with walking last night in the basketball court while breathing, the act of walking became effortless and self-powered, as if my legs were motored wheels instead of swinging gams.]
[It's hard to stop. When this happens with the BREATH--when deep full breathing becomes self-powered--it's called Breath Release and that's when MATIW (More Air Than I Want) morphs into Breath Addiction, which is a good thing, a highly coveted phase of this practice... Stop to enjoy and appreciate the results and imagine being in this state permanently instead of only breathing a few minutes a day.]
[Getting up to shower and meditate. Noticed that breathing adds a tangible palpable physical real radiance to existence. This is not to be ignored. If I stop breathing and then start again a minute later, the feeling of it comes right back.]
[Just finished meditation. It seems the results of breathing and meditation are synergizing. Hard to tell which is which sometimes. While meditating today, the feeling of having a strong flow of self-powered motion was there. Then I noticed while resting a few minutes after meditation that my hands were vibrating. Why? I don't breathe much while meditating...]
2016-02-27 1:15 am
[Went to bed about 9 pm after a long session of fast walking and breathing in the basketball court. Made no attempt to go to sleep, rather tried to hover near the edge of sleep, resulting in a state similar to insomnia, but without the misery; I couldn't believe how much time passed while I was certain that I was awake the whole time but have no memory of it.]
[The banana packing operation next door is busy and the internet cafe on the other side of the house is busy. ...voices drift into the windows constantly, which must have contributed to the dream plot following:]
I am unable to sleep due to the rudeness of neighbors just over the fence who I can't see, nor is their house visible in the dark since people have such small houses here in the Philippines. [Landscape looks like Kansas.] I go outside which is a mistake because now I can hear that they're talking about me. Seems I live in some kind of structure in the back yard of my parents' house but am aware of being in the Phils. I listen to the voices of several young black men who I can't see calling me "the honky".
Finally all of this is forgotten when a large rodent the size of a dog--which I mistake for a rabbit--comes out of hiding to feast on the lush green lawn. It is followed by three more "rabbits" the same size. They are white with swirly gray markings. I notice that each one has unique markings and I talk to myself about this, making a mental note of it. The rabbits have an odd habit of standing on their front paws. Then from the four corners of the yard, they all four hop to the center of the yard, forming an X configuration as if their actions were choreographed. They are feeding near each other when suddenly the yard caves in and swallows them whole.
I imagine there must be a large round hole in the lawn now, maybe six feet in diameter, and picture exactly what it must look like. My dad was awoken by the sound of the earth caving in and calls out something to the effect of "rabbits caved in the lawn again," so I tell him not to worry, I will cover the hole so no one falls in it.
I go to the back left corner of the house where some moldy old sheets of plywood are leaning against the house, and drag a sheet over to the center of the yard, but I'm surprised to see the hole is a perfect rectangle as if made with tools. I construct a pseudo-memory of my dad having done something out here recently to explain the incongruency.
[I'm still expecting the color pink to come up in a dream so I can notice it and become lucid.]
[Sense of doubleness, must have dreamed more than one version of this.]
A feeling that I keep going back to my moldy old apartment [which I commonly dream about] after having moved out of it. I'm in the apartment again with a blank mind, standing there practically unaware of my surroundings, when suddenly there's the real tenant again. He is very calm. He has a short crew cut and short beard, light brown hair. [Looks like me with a fleshier face and no glasses.] I am grateful to him for understanding my dilemma and staying calm upon finding me in his apartment again.
I ask him if I look wacko in any way and he says no, I look fine. I see myself through his eyes. I'm wearing a jacket that's open to show a dark blue form-fitting uniform shirt. It appears I'm a security guard, which kinda surprises me. Back to seeing through my own eyes, I'm now confident I'm not some kind of wacko, so I prepare myself to leave. I thank him again and ask him his name. We shake hands. He tells me his name is Steven. I say, "Luther," as we shake, considering my various other names, but "Luther" seems right for now. I feel happy to know such a calm and helpful person.
Finally, I'm outside at night on a city street corner. There are all-night convenience stores and liquor stores on three of four corners--my now-dark old apartment is on the fourth corner of the intersection. I start for home with a large plastic glass of water in my hand, but before I can drink the cloudy substance in it, I drop it in a gutter. I pick it up since I'm still thirsty, but it looks really bad, so I let it lie.
I hear a terrible keening sound and look up. One of the late night citizens of this seedy district is crossing the street toward the sidewalk I'm on, and it seems the high-pitched wailing had come from him. He is an old man with no hair, a smooth, fleshy face, crooked mouth, blank staring eyes. Tall in a dark trench coat. I move away from him.
I have a great desire for some alcohol and hoping Steven doesn't see me, I head into one or more convenience stores looking for something I can afford and wondering who will take a check in a neighborhood like this. I realize with alarm that I don't have my checkbook, but then I'm relieved to remember I have my debit card and about $30 in the account to get me through the month. I look at the shiny white counter of the place I'm in, and I'm encouraged to see no signs saying "Cash Only" or anything like that.
With some relish, I'm looking over small shelves full of colorful, white and brown, opaque, oddly-shaped bottles of flavored liqueurs, but I'm sure if I buy something like that, I won't be able to eat till payday, so I decide to get something I can afford like beer...
[...when I wake up with a dry mouth, but I remember not to move. I feel I could go back into the dream (and should have), but I don't want to get sucked into the dream plot, so I start working on techniques, without moving.]
[A pillow or something is poking me in the back, but I refuse to move. Lifting out and climbing out don't work, so I try rolling back-and-forth and then aggressively thrashing and struggling. It's all visualization and I don't feel it's effective, so I try rolling out, and immediately with no effort...]
I see a round-screened image which itself is rotating all by itself [and didn't consider merging with it, because this is not what I'd expected]. I get excited and announce to myself, "I'm out!" then tell myself to stay calm.
I survey images which are fuzzy and remind myself to look through them instead of at them, so they will become 3-dimensional. I can't tell whether I'm out of body, or just viewing hypnagogic images. I think I should touch some things to deepen, but I don't have hands, just vision. I feel the need to move into the scene, but it's just disconnected, crudely drawn objects like a lion-colored sphinx that I can rotate and see vaguely from different angles.
The images increase in clarity and I watch them for a while, [but by now I've moved my leg several times, swallowed several times in response to the dry throat, and finally I go to move the pillow that's stabbing me in the back, and as I suspected, it's my little boy's knee. He objects to the repositioning and steals my pillow, so I find his blanket and comfort him, then head downstairs to the breathing room that I made a week ago. This is the first time I will sleep in it at night. Normally the whole family sleeps in one huge bed upstairs.]
[The next twenty minutes I will meditate and then try to go back to sleep. The Moslem singing has just started in the distance, so it's a good time to be awake.]
[Back to bed with blindfold, lying on back.]
[Woke up many times, over and over, with a dry mouth, swallowed and went back to sleep.]
[I've waited 45 years for this moment: the chance to record my first conscious separation from the physical body. It's been 35-1/2 years since my last conscious out-of-body experience. I'm so excited that I can't easily control my emotions. There have always been so many doubts and hindrances. Here's what happened. I was blindfolded.]
I wake up sitting up in bed, blind of course, thinking nothing of it, although I never wake up sitting up in bed. I lay back down, and OOPS, I hit the bed and just keep going! So I'm thinking wordlessly, "Wow, I'm sliding off to the right side of the bed [in slow motion], and I'm going to hit the floor. I can't remember the last time I fell out of bed." I decided it was OK to fall out of bed, it's not that far to fall, and I didn't figure it would hurt much. But I just kept sliding on my back and never hit the floor, and now I'm floating in the air next to my bed! [Sha-ZAM! I'm out of my body! Yippee!]
I tell myself to stay calm and proceed immediately with my plan of action, and the first planned activity is to look in the long mirror in the dining room where my wife has her dressing nook. So I'm saying to myself in these exact words, "I'm going to need vision," because I still can't see. My field of vision is an empty homogeneous off-white or very light gray. So there's the mirror, I get up close and OOPS, It's just me! Rats! I must be back in my body again, dang it anyway! [The image in the mirror is me all right--20 or 30 years ago.] And my hair is too dark--oh, that's just the blindfold pushed up on the top of my head.
Oh well, it was great while it lasted, I am ecstatic. Guess I'll go back to bed.
So I'm climbing the new stairs one at a time, then I notice I'm actually balancing on the narrow concrete wall next to the stairs with the rebar poking up out of it where the railing will be attached when we get it made. [This narrow concrete structure hasn't been made yet.] I think I'd better stop fooling around and get back on the stairs proper before I fall.
As I climb the last of the stairs, I grab a piece of rebar sticking out of the concrete wall on my right [none of which exists] and bend it out. Then I bend it back where it was so it won't snag anybody walking past it.
[Then I'm back in bed downstairs of course, and only then do I realize that the mirror, the stairs, and all that... was experienced out of body. The sensation of realness had fooled me; as soon as I could see, I thought I was back in my body, and only waking up in the wrong bed told me that my antics on the stairs were performed out of body. I found this hilarious and laughed and laughed, then I was wracked by sobs of ecstasy for five or ten minutes, which I didn't bother to control. Forty-five years I waited for this, my first fully conscious separation from the physical body.]
[All through the night I'd been very focused, every time I woke up, on finding the color pink in a dream, and using that as a cue to tell me I was dreaming. Somehow I had become confident that I was going to succeed in this, partly because I've had a few lucid dreams in the past. While writing this, I've had a hanky hanging in the window, trying to dry it in the morning sun so I can keep using it.]
[The snot rag of ecstasy... but wait! That handkerchief--what color is it?]
[Pink. With BIZARRE ASIAN ANIME bunny rabbits in three of the four corners.]
[So that bunny rabbit hanky is going on the wall of my breathing room as a trophy, once I wash the snot out of it, in commemoration of this day. The snot rag of ecstasy: 45 years of doubt and struggle, erased by falling out of bed.]
[Lying down in breathing room.]
[LS1] Fell back suddenly into my body with great force. Not just a limb twitch, this was the strongest hypnagogic jerk I've ever felt. It made me gasp.