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UNWORLDING... the art form formerly known as 'out of body experience,' 'astral travel,' 'lucid dreaming,' 'phasing,' 'the quick switch,' etc.



(and begin a long dry spell)

September 24, 2016

We do not experience the world, but mental models of the world.

      --Stephen LaBerge

2016-09-24 2:55-3:25 am

[Slept lightly through the last hour before the alarm went off to meditate, because I was trying to wake up and remember a dream. Last conscious thought: "I'll try to remember the details for just a second before I get up to write it down." By now all is lost.]

3:00 am

[LS] The word A-C-T-I-O-N is spelled out. [I was inspired to do many pull-ups through the ceiling into the Library through the floor. I was not impressed with the vividness of the Beanpole exercise, but I just kept at it, including touching the books, running my hands along the shelves, and hearing the hollow sounds when my fingers stroke the hardened spines of the old books. I didn't find this too exciting, but I kept it up and it kept me awake. Meditation was not sleepy for a change. Before I stopped meditating, I spent some time at the end of the session doing nothing, i.e. deep meditation proper, stopping all internal dialog.]

3:25 am

[To dream bed wearing mask. Will focus on Library, the smell of old books, rubbing my hands together, doing pullups in through the floor of the Library, seeing books. Books, books, books. Rub hands.]

4:04 am

[Our puppy Max is as tough-as-nails, a highly aggressive and playful puppy. But he's been sick and has become afraid of his slightly older but much larger young aunt who he used to wrestle with, roughly and obsessively, until she would have to literally sit on top of him and pin him down on the ground to make him stop. Three days ago he lost interest in Lila and won't play with her any more, so I've been worried about him. In the dream...]

I've recently split up with KK. She kept Lila and I kept Max and MOVED BACK TO AN APARTMENT I had rented once before. [An apartment or house is a state of mind. In the dream,] I'm MEDITATING and sitting in a big chair having a fairly LUCID DREAM about watching a movie. But I'm in the movie [which is like a cult classic I used to like called A Boy and His Dog, which is about a post-armageddon world where people live in tents, similar to the movie MAD MAX. But as I type this dream which took place only a few hours ago, I am amazed at how little of this dream I would have remembered if I hadn't forced myself out of bed to write it down immediately. The Voice of Idiossification will stop at nothing. It will call any  dream "boring."]

People are basically living outside; everyone is equally homeless. I'm aware of holding all this together with my mind. The movie is actually inside the tent, and a blanket hangs to cover the doorway of the tent, so how could I see the movie inside the tent anyway? And my chair is facing back to the hanging blanket anyway, with these REALIZATIONS, I mentally stop the movie and see that other people are sitting around the big makeshift plywood table where I sit on my big chair, back to the tent. I rouse myself from my meditation in the apartment where I live with Max after watching vivid HYPNAGOGIC IMAGES. I see I haven't been doing anything but meditating. I carry a pile of dirty clothes from the DREAM BED in the front room in case anybody comes to visit.

I remember my puppy, poor unfed creature running around like a ghost looking for something to eat, can't get outside to pee with me glued to my chair. He runs by and I kiss him on the top of his head, telling myself I'll get used to kissing dogs like when I had Max I. I wonder if I have a record from last time I lived in this place, as to where I should mail the rent check.

I force myself into the kitchen to serve up some dog food for Max. I have to wash a spoon to get this done. What a drudgery this life is. I do some mental magic by fast-forwarding the time tape, which I see as a vivid vertical slit of film shots clicking by at a high speed, as the images fast-forward to a time when taking care of the dog isn't a problem anymore. The fact that I can manipulate my sense of time so easily makes me CHUCKLE.

[I wake up. Awesome pre-lucid dream. Back to sleep. Will try the floating trick (OmniStressEvap):

1. Pretend the brain is a muscle and relax it.
2. Progressive relaxation, the "gravity blanket," except instead of transforming physical and mental stress into a heavy feeling, use that same energy to quickly vaporize the physical. The vapor surrounds the perceived position of the body like a bubble. The energy that normally activates the physical is now evaporated and floating around the astral channels of the physical body, which is all that's left of the physical body.
3. The edge of my body touching the bed is actually the edge of an energy in the shape of the physical body that is radiating from the Inner Sound Current that creates my reality. These subtle energy conduits that run through the body obviously aren't lying on the mattress, they are floating a couple inches off the mattress, suspended within a kind of intense radiation that I used to mistake for muscle, bone, tissue and stuff. As soon as I feel this floating sensation as real, I generally am milliseconds from being "asleep", but:
4. Intend to stay conscious mentally at this point.]

4:20 am

[I told myself, "I have time for four OBES before the alarm clock goes off in ten minutes to wake up J." Keep reading.]

5:30 am

[Added note, later in the day as I type this: I stayed in bed when T. got up to get ready for the trip to the Saturday morning basketball practice in the town where the tournament will take place. I felt a little guilty for not going with them, but I refuse to leave the house with less than two dollars in my pocket and my U.S. bank's debit system has been broken so local ATM machines don't know me this week. I knew that feeling guilty would get me nowhere, so I turned off the guilt dispenser and went back to sleep. Speaking of which, normally I would be extremely tense with no cash and no way to get any, but at this point I have decided that nothing is worth worrying about if worrying is going to stand between me and my next phase experience .]

6:00 am

[I am vibrating from head to toe. I just had possibly the longest unworlding of my life.]

In a featureless, plotless dreamscape in tones of light brown, gray, and beige tones variegated like a mist [the Nowhere], I realize I am out of my body. I shout, "I am having a lucid dream!" and I shoot up into the sky at a great speed. I scream in ecstasy over and over, then an alarm jolts me telepathically and I remember to calm down so I don't lose my focus.

I fly through the wall into my OLD APARTMENT [same place as the previous dream]. It has beige carpets and off-white walls [the Nowhere]. I'm headed straight for my old bricks-and-boards BOOKSHELF only four feet in front of me. There seem to be too many gaps as if books are missing. I keep on flying straight through the bookshelf and straight through the scene, commenting to myself telepathically--not in any certain words--in a JOLLY MOOD , "Hey, looks like the lucid dream fairies took all my comic books!" [I don't own any comic books.]

I'm in the Bookstore floating near the CEILING [the Nowhere] and since this is just a dream, I feel like doing something totally destructive, because I can, and there will be no consequences. I call down to the woman sitting at the desk below me telepathically, "Hey lucid dream Bookstore lady, look what I can do!" I gather all my flying power and dash through the air toward a BLACK METAL bookshelf from the back, crashing into and through the top shelf and all the BOOKS.

I'm in a place where people walk around and stand around with their families, like an indoor mall. I'm standing on a bench, so I feel taller than the large black man next to me. I'm aware he has a small boy and I place my hand on the big man's big shoulder. His shoulder feels deeply familiar but I'm not sure why. He's wearing a LIME GREEN T-shirt [later learned this is the Dream Usher's color], the same color as my new tank top. Forcefully, I telepathically tell him he should be nicer to his little boy and he steps away a little without looking at me, responding telepathically that I have the wrong guy. I picture the right guy in my mind, a somewhat smaller black man with salt-and-pepper kinky-curly hair slicked back in shiny waves. I decide [original transcript writing interrupted by EARTHQUAKE!] ...I decide to spread my gospel of "Be nicer to your son" to the right guy this time, so I shoot up into the sky to go find him. I realize I don't know who he is or where he is, then realize I can just follow his ident. I know he lives in or near a paint store.

Flying down toward a City sidewalk in an older part of town, heading for a sign indicating a paint shop where I sense he lives, I overshoot the paint shop a little.

When I land, I realize I have to pee, and I think, Just like in Robert Monroe's books, I'm being called back by nature. [But the feeling passes.]

A relatively small white man, well-dressed, with slicked-back BROWN KINKY-CURLY HAIR [the Dream Usher], takes me into a parking lot in the back. He says telepathically that I am finished with this dream and I have to go back to my body. I telepathically challenge his authority to make this decision for me as he directs me to a LARGE WHITE VEHICLE. There are several other large white vehicles that look like fire trucks; this one looks like a stretch limo and/or a hearse. I don't like the looks of it and I give him the telepathic equivalent of "Who are you, the astral police?" He replies with the telepathic equivalent of, "You haven't had a close encounter with a loaded gun yet, have you?" I start to counter that I have recently been shot in the hand as I resign myself to getting stuffed into the hearse/limo with the others. But while I'm TRYING TO REMEMBER when it was exactly that I got shot in the hand with a gun, he leaves. I forget about the gun and I see the hearse/limo is gone, so I can continue with my lucid dream.

Yippee! I leap into the sky and fly into the heavy gray and brown CLOUD COVER [the Nowhere]. I'm eating a big chocolate mint patty and enjoying it very much when I [wake up].

7:30 am

[This dream was literally delicious. Since it ended with me eating a chocolate mint, I'd say the message is about a certain flavor to generate in one's life and practice. This Magical Mindset is what induces the ability and freedom to fly. I am still vibey, chills up and down spine, and while I was writing this we had a huge earthquake! The walls were going back and forth and it must have lasted a full two minutes. I turned off the power and gas and went outside and it was still going on. The only possession I thought about taking with me was my dream journal !]

[This is a Big Omen, because I was born on the 50th anniversary of the San Francisco earthquake and had earthquake dreams throughout my childhood since before I knew what an earthquake was, continuing through my early 20s. The two biggest earthquakes I've been in both involved a 100-year-old building that contained a BOOKSTORE. The first of these was in the spring of 1979 in a bookstore in downtown Santa Cruz. My knees felt wobbly so I looked up from the book in my hand and saw everybody silently running outside. I looked up and saw a woman up on the balcony, frozen in panic, her hand over her mouth, because the whole building was swaying back and forth and creaking loudly. I was the last one outside, and then it stopped. There was no damage, but this was a scary and dangerous quake.

Ten years later, on October 17, 1989, the tragic Loma Prieta quake hit the San Francisco and Santa Cruz areas, 80 miles away from where I sat with my mouth open and my knees wobbling again. By the time my knees stopped wobbling, this same bookstore along with the rest of historical downtown Santa Cruz had collapsed, killing a woman who worked in the bookstore. Note to self: re-read the line I was writing in my notebook when today's quake started.]

[Added note: Me and my new age BS, my puppy had died outside in the night, and now, just as the dream said, I was ironically no longer annoyed with his care and feeding. Here began a 3-1/2-month-long dry spell which only ended when I rebelled from trying to shove new age religion down my own throat. I really knew better, having tasted 'I'm not good enough to go to heaven' before. My dry spell ended when I rejected the depressing notion that people go to heavens and hells of their own creation when they die. My explanation for the fact that so many people report encountering entities lost in these heavens and hells: their 2-D karma goes to heavens and hells while their awareness never went anywhere to begin with. Everything is made out of awareness; even karma and emotion and other two-dimensional things that don't possess awareness of their own. Since everything is made out of awareness, awareness has nowhere to go. It is already there. When we die there's no place to go. We just keep on keepin' on. --ed.]

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