The darkness comes in like a surge…the noise of helicopters very loudly surrounds the air…chaos…what is happening? What is going on outside? I’m scared to look out the window; the window of what I know I am dreaming. There must be someway to escape this madness I say to myself, so I hide under the cover of the forest.
I‘m standing with some other people near the edge of a deep canyon overlooking a vast desert landscape. I notice the others around me appear to be lifeless automatons with the exception of a solitary dragon standing amidst the others. The dragon has a humanoid torso, arms, and legs but also red draganoid wings, head, and scales. Unfortunately, I don‘t have any friends who look like that in the waking world, so this makes me realize I am dreaming.
When I get lucid, sometimes I like to have conversations with dream characters, ask them what they represent, if they are a product of my imagination, if they can tell me something important, etc., regardless of what I believe what dream characters are. Sometimes I get curious conversations.
This dream is the first one in which I managed to contact my inner self after reading Robert Waggoner’s first book: I was dreaming that I was in my home and across the street there was a building which normally doesn’t exist in waking physical reality. My friend was in that building. He was wearing a navy uniform. He said hello to me and crossing the street he entered my house. At that point I started to think that he always wanted to join the navy but he didn’t eventually so the uniform struck me as odd. With this, I became lucid.
On my 50th lucid dream, I became lucid in this truck driving through these beautiful mountains overlooking a city somewhere in what I believed was Russia. I was pretty wrapped up in the lucid dream and everything I was seeing, but then I had this thought, “I should try what Robert suggested in his book.”
I am 84 and started three years ego to study dreaming. By now I recall long and short dreams nightly, very seldom lucid, but clear dreams. At the moment I practice Liminal Dreaming as I now understand that I had liminal flashes often mainly during an after lunch nap. This is a lucid dream I had about two years ago:
At the beginning of the dream I am lucid. There is no lucidity trigger that I can recall. I am standing on the dead end street where I live. I am right in front of my house, in the middle of the deserted street, in the early morning light. I have a name-brand 16 oz. water bottle in my right hand, which still has a bit of water in it.
Before the following lucid dream took place, something significant happened. I was in a remarkably light trance, when I distinctly saw a samurai sword appear in the air before me; only slightly transparent. Then I saw hands below the sword like someone was offering it to me. I did not see him, but could feel his presence. That experience ranks among the most clear psychic experiences that I have ever had.
It’s a bright, sunny day and I’m in a large auditorium with my wife. People are coming in and taking seats in anticipation of a presentation to be given by my company president. My wife and I take our seats next to an aisle. I’m anticipating all employees to be given generous gifts. A woman who looks familiar enters our row to grab a seat. As she passes me, she is very friendly, touching me as if we know each other.
I awoke in the middle of the night feeling sad. I decided that if I went back to sleep and had a lucid dream, I would attempt an emotional healing dream to fix this sadness. I went to sleep straight into a dream. I was with Nicole Kidman in my childhood home. I realized I was dreaming and remembered my intention to use my lucid dream for emotional healing.
A small check that I wrote my daughter wasn‘t cashed at her bank. A note from the bank tells my daughter, ‘call me,‘ but my daughter didn‘t call the bank back because she died rather abruptly that same evening of an aneurism in the brain. I am thinking (in the dream) that I still have a little money because the check wasn‘t cashed. Then I think, ‘I don‘t remember going to her funeral. And I would have gone to her funeral!’
Walking through a city with an old friend, we entered a curious shop filled with antiques, old books, and strange objects. In a back room, we met a small old woman dressed in a beautiful oriental robe. We approached, and she explained that we had to kneel on one knee, repeat a chant, and perform a series of gestures, which she demonstrated. I watched closely, but could not remember the chant, so I only knelt and gestured. She responded, “Good enough.” My friend did not perform the ritual, and I could tell he thought it was silly.