Lucid Dream, Lucid Life
My first lucid dream came spontaneously when I was 31 years old. My partner, Anthony, and I had just returned from a trip to Indonesia, and we were sleeping long hours to catch up from the multiple days of travel and the 14 hour time difference. I remember that first lucid dream so clearly, as if it happened last night:
I am following Anthony down a dock, and when we get to the edge we jump. I don’t want to hit the water, so I do a somersault in the air to avoid the splash and suddenly I “wake up” inside the dream. The colors inside the dream world become extraordinarily vivid. I have the sense that I am inside another world. I look around me and see people, cities, landscapes, oceans – all in bright technicolor. However, anxiety quickly takes over, and I begin to fear that I could become trapped in this other dimension… so, I wake up.
When I awoke in bed, I was exhilarated. My heart was pumping, my eyes were wide open, and I felt like I had accessed a whole new dimension of consciousness! For most of the following year, I became obsessed with exploring the realm of lucid dreams. I watched youtube videos, read books, and set intentions each night as I went to sleep. Throughout that time, I had a variety of beautiful, scary, fascinating, and ultimately, exhausting experiences. As it turned out, although my initial experience was spontaneous, lucid dreaming was not incredibly natural for me and it took quite a bit of focus and energy to “wake up” in my dreams – often leaving me feeling a bit sleep deprived the next morning. After a particularly active series of weeks of lucid dreaming, the veil between my waking life and dream life seemed to thin and I noticed it became challenging to reality check in either state. My consciousness began to slip into a space of uncertainty around whether I was sleeping, or awake, at any given time. This phenomenon is also mentioned by Andrew Holocek in his book Dream Yoga, a manual that teaches the practice of tibetan lucid dreaming technique. Holocek mentions that this sense of uncertainty became disorienting and, to some extent, disturbing and caused him to abandon the practice of lucid dreaming for a period of time (Holocek, 2013).
While, like Andrew, I did take some space from active lucid dreaming for a time, it is still part of my dream practice and something I have a more balanced relationship with now. In this essay, I will share and analyze a recent lucid dream and explain how I am utilizing this anomalous state to explore blockages, limitations, and spiritual evolution in my waking life. I will interpret this recent lucid dream through a transpersonal lens by identifying how this lucid dream relates to my waking life and contains elements that are precognitive, creative, clairvoyant, sexual, and support problem solving.
Definition
In Varieties of Anomalous Experiences, a lucid dream is simply defined as “dreaming while knowing that one is dreaming” (Cardena, et. al., 2014, pg. 146). However, some researchers find this definition to be too broad, as it does not encompass some of the marked aspects of lucid dreams such as; exerting control over the dream, altered consciousness, etc. (Cardena, et. al., 2014, pg. 146). To expand on this simplistic definition, Cardena goes on to explain the distinct quality of a lucid dream,
In everyday life, we do not ordinarily think about the fact that we are awake—assuming that we are awake…Likewise, as a rule, we are not aware of the fact that we are dreaming while we are dreaming. We ordinarily experience our dreams as if they were taking place in physical reality and only recognize them as dreams after we awaken. However, there is a significant exception to this generalization: Sometimes, while dreaming, we are explicitly aware that we are dreaming. The experience of lucid dreaming, as this phenomenon is termed (Van Eeden, 1913), is clearly anomalous in comparison with the usual mildly delirious experience of nonlucid dreaming. The term lucid is used in the psychiatric sense, indicating clear insight and correct orientation to reality as opposed to the clouded insight and deluded disorientation of the delirious. (Cardena, et. al., 2014, pg. 146)
In a “regular” dream, the dreamer is not aware that they are dreaming and they are not able to change or orient within the dream in any way. A “regular” dreamer is, at best, a passive observer, and at worst, a victim of unfavorable or fearful experiences in the dream realm. Conversely, lucid dreamers tend to be able to exert a level of control or will onto the dream experience, as shown in my above dream report of my initial lucid dream when I was able to somersault in order to avoid hitting the water. This is a key ability reported by lucid dreamers and makes the dream realm an active, engaged experience rather than passive. This distinction is also noted by Holocek, and can be linked to our ability to find more active levels of awareness, lucidity, and consciousness within our waking life – as understood by the practice of Tibetan dream yoga (Holocek, 2013). Holocek explains how the word “buddha” means “awakened one”, which infers that there is something to wake up from (Holocek, 2013). If the buddha is “awake”, what does that mean for the rest of us? Does that mean that we are, in fact, in a state of sleep – even when we think we are awake? This concept is something I have personally explored in my work with psychedelic medicine and I have surmised that we are, in fact, waking up from dissociated states of consciousness, which can mirror our relationship to lucidity in the dream realm.
In the best of cases, lucid dreamers claim to be fully in possession of their cognitive faculties: They report being able to reason clearly, to remember the conditions of waking life, and to act (or not act) voluntarily upon reflection or in accordance with plans decided upon before sleep. At the same time, they remain soundly asleep, experiencing a dream world that can seem vividly real. In short, they experience themselves as if in a life space that can feel as real at the time as the rest of life (Globus, 1987). (Cardena, et. al., 2014, pg. 146)
Lucid Dream Report
This lucid dream occurred on January 25th, 2024 – just under two months from the time of writing this essay. I had just completed a section of reading on lucid dreams that day and felt inspired to do a bit of intentional lucid dreaming. I had been really struggling with feeling creative and was feeling stagnant in my self-expression. A huge aspect of my life felt stuck in regards to how I am moving forward with my relationship, creative expression, and particularly around a desire to start a family with my partner. We had found ourselves at an impasse, unable to resolve relational patterns in a way that felt good to both of us. That night, I set the intention to create art in the dream realm that I do not know how to create in my waking life. The idea was that if I can push my edges in the dream realm and learn something new, perhaps I can apply this new skill in my waking life. My hope was that by doing it in a dream first, I can more easily access the ability while awake.
That night, I had a series of three dreams. In the first dream, I was a passive observer, witnessing a close female friend undergoing chemotherapy for a cancer treatment and watching her sickness progress. I remember not feeling fear for her, but rather observing with curiosity. In the next dream, I am holding Anthony’s hand while he leads me from a house out into a suburban neighborhood towards an alien spaceship. I become overwhelmingly afraid and he says to me, “try to wake yourself up”. I look down at my feet and try to tap them together like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, but nothing happens and I stay in the dream. I have the thought that this is not a dream, and I cannot wake up, because it is in fact real life. I say to myself, “It’s happening”. I lean over and throw up. The aliens start coming towards us, and I run back to the house. I try to pack a bag, but I am running around in circles unsure of what to pack. I am trying to get my friend with long, dark hair to leave the house with me – I cannot see her face. Eventually, I run out the back door while the aliens chase me, shooting at me. Then, finally, the lucid dream came through.
I wake up in my dream and I am flying on an air skateboard. As I become lucid, I feel really stoked that I am flying – it feels really good. I am surrounded by trees that all have a gray-ish tint to them, like the color saturation is turned way down on the whole dream. There is a road below me that I am going to land on. I suddenly remember the intention that I set while I was awake to make art in my dream and practice creating things that I don’t know how to create. I land on the road in front of a forest. I am looking at the trees, and attempt to shift my environment – but I can’t. Nothing is changing. I think about creating a piece of art, but nothing appears. I start to feel frustrated. I focus as hard as I can on creating art, but still nothing happens. I can’t conjure a specific piece of art to make, nothing comes to mind. It’s as if I can’t figure out what to do. Frustration takes over, I give up, and have an orgasm in the dream before I wake up.
Dream Analysis
Had I written an analysis for this dream a week ago, my interpretation may be very different from what I am going to share now. You see, on Tuesday, March 12th, 2024 (six weeks after the above dreams), I received a series of text messages from one of my oldest and closest girlfriends. The messages read, “Amoreee, call me if you are free. Are you going to Envision in Costa Rica? Was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, stage 0 but still, wtf. I’m packing now and would be the best surprise if you were there” (Dream One). While these messages didn’t strike me with fear, I did feel instantly curious of what is going on in her life, health, etc. Of course, I called her immediately. Now, at that moment, I had no intention of going to Costa Rica for Envision Festival. However, after five minutes on the phone, she convinced me that I absolutely had to be there for her. Anthony looked at me and said, “I am going to have to push you a bit on this one, you have to go”. We booked a flight the next morning, and I spent the entire day running around in circles, panicking, trying to pack for a last-minute, international trip to the tropics. As it turns out, one of my other closest girlfriends, who happens to have long brown hair, was also already down in Costa Rica with her family (Dream Two). Currently, I am in the jungle of Costa Rica, surfing and reflecting on my life. While on this trip, I have been deep in the exploration of how I am creating my reality and the places I am keeping myself stuck and in victim mode. I am noticing how much time I have spent not truly claiming my desires and my role as a Creator of my own life. I have been sitting in frustration, grief, speculation, visioning, and exploring alternate timelines in regards to my own desire to create and build a family. In my frustration, I have found myself toying with the idea of expressing old sexual patterns as a way to move energy (Dream Three).
With an entire week left of the trip, it seems that I am not yet in a place of resolve. However, with the writing of this essay, I can clearly see how this series of dreams was a precognitive message of what was to come in my spiritual process. From a transpersonal perspective, this series of dreams carries messages that both warn, prepare, and support a problem solving process that I am undergoing in my waking life. This is a time of confronting my deepest fears, accepting the intensity and “realness” of reality, and waking up fully to my role as Creator of my own life. It seems to me that sexual expression and orgasm can support the release of frustration until I am able to determine what exactly it is that I am wanting to create. The intention to just “make art” is too vague – the universe responds when we have clarity, direction, and purpose of vision. I feel that my time here needs to be spent honing my personal vision, reconnecting to my creative and sexual essence, and engaging in practices that build my confidence and empowerment as I move forward into this next stage of my life.
References
Cardeña, E., Lynn, S. J., & Krippner, S. (Eds.). (2014). Varieties of anomalous experience: Examining the scientific evidence (2nd ed.). American Psychological Association.
Krippner, S., Bogzaran, F., & de Carvalho, A. P. (2002). Extraordinary dreams and how to work with them. State University of New York Press.
Tick, E. (2001). The Practice of Dream Healing: Bringing Ancient Greek Mysteries into Modern Medicine. Quest Books.