S. Perry

The Cat and the Labyrinth

I am lying in bed on my back, having just awoken. I close my eyes and attempt to return to sleep. The darkness around me begins to solidify, until I see that it is the great mouth of a funnel that is stretching steadily downward. I feel myself fall out of my body and down this funnel, like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. I realize that I am being drawn into a dream and remain lucid.

A form emerges from one of the dark walls as I fall past it and turns into the shape of a cat. I fall onto the floor below, back first, and the cat lands in front of me, much more gracefully. I notice that it looks remarkably like my cousin’s cat that had died a few weeks previously. “Jasper,” I call, beckoning to it. It acknowledges me with a malicious look (Jasper and I had never gotten along) and continues walking ahead, flitting in and out of darkness

We walk through a gigantic hall of shadows. I pass by open doors on each side, but choose not to walk through any of them, instead moving along ever forwards. I catch up with the cat and it turns to me, hissing and making a fuss. I can sense the anger and confusion in it. “Forgive, and be forgiven,” a wise old voice says, booming through the hallway; “Love, and be loved.” I recall my practice of Ho’oponopono and stare into a mirror that appears on the hallway wall, and recite into it: “I love you. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Thank you.”

I then turn to the cat and recite the same. A bright wisp of energy moves from my hands and into the cat. He looks ferocious at first, with his face twisted into a goblinlike contortion of disgust and rage, but then he becomes calm and lets the energy engulf him. He disappears and I know that somehow I have released him from this place.

 

Kris Weaver

Mother Long Gone

My mother passed away in 2003. I have a dream where she is sitting in a chair with her back to me. Her eyes are closed and she never speaks to me. We are in a dark, depressing trailer house. As I go to speak to her, I notice that I am floating which is my trigger to become lucid.

Once acclimating to being lucid, I go to her and ask, “How are you?” No response. She’s simply “not there.” Like a dream-ghost; not a full, active dream character.

I tell her, “Its fine to move on,” and she does nothing. No reaction. Then, I will myself outside where it is sunny and I finish the dream by gliding over hillsides covered with daisies, her favorite flower.

I’ve had this dream reoccur a many times and it leaves me neither sad or happy. Just a strange encounter with an image of my mother.

 

Sam

Lucid Dream With Dad

I dreamt that I was in a shopping centre. I could see mum approaching in the distance. Then I remember seeing Mum and Dad having bright blue hair. Whilst the blue hair appeared quite odd, I remember thinking that it was odd to see Mum and Dad together. At this point I became lucid.

I approached Dad and touched his face. I put my hand on his face and felt his face stubble. It felt amazingly real. I even rubbed my face against it. I then told Dad how much I love him. I started crying and kept telling him this, all the while being fully lucid. Dad moved closer to me and said, “You must keep telling me that,” which I continue to do (although I think he means a more general ‗keep telling him‘ over a period of time).

I started to think, “Wow, the dream hasn‘t collapsed.” This scene of embracing and crying and affirmation took place for perhaps about 15 seconds. Then I woke up.

Note: On the night of this lucid dream no technique was performed before going to bed (although lucid dreaming is something I practice on a regular basis). I had been studying since midnight and was massively exhausted before falling asleep.