Tell us about that experience. How did you see it then? And how do you see it now?
Ah, yes, my dream of the black panther, that was cited in LaBerge and Rheingold‘s book, The World of Lucid Dreaming, after it appeared in Lucid Dreaming: Dawning of the Clear Light. Here it is:
‘I am standing in the hallway outside my room. It is night and hence dark where I stand. Dad comes in the front door. I tell him that I am there so as not to frighten him or provoke an attack. I am afraid for no apparent reason. I look outside through the door and see a dark figure which appears to be a large animal. I point at it in fear. The animal, which is a huge black panther, comes through the doorway. I reach out to it with both hands, extremely afraid. Placing my hands on its head, I say, ‘You‘re only a dream.‘ But I am half pleading in my statement and cannot dispel my fear…’
I cited this dream as ‘evidence’ that our power in the lucid dream is limited, and that certain autonomous forces can, at time, overwhelm the dream ego‘s presumption of control. This was taken straight out of Jungian theory, in which autonomous ‘complexes’ exist within us, and have a life of their own. In contrast, LaBerge and Reingold basically disagreed with me, saying instead that I had simply gave way to unnecessary fear, and had failed to realize that I could not be hurt by the menacing panther. I have maintained ever since that we cannot be so sure that the characters in our lucid dreams can be ‘tamed’ simply by realizing that they are dream characters.
Indeed, LaBerge and I stood on a stage together not long ago, and expressed the same disagreement, over 30 years later. So the issue of whether we can, or should, presume to have dominion over the characters in our dreams, purely on the basis of being aware that they are part of our dreams, has no simple answer. However, I have attempted to formulate a solution to this problem in the chapter I wrote in Bulkeley and Hurd‘s recent anthology, titled, ‘A Non-Dual Perspective on the Question of Dream Control,’ in Lucid Dreaming: New Perspectives on Consciousness in Sleep Praeger, 2014). Frankly, I think it‘s one of the best things I‘ve ever written, and does a pretty good job of reconciling the two positions.
About ten years later, the issue of ‘control’ in lucid dreams would emerge in a debate in the journal, Lucidity Letter. Tell us a bit about that briefly and how you felt about it.
As I‘ve already mentioned, I maintained that dream control runs the risk of provoking unresolved psychodynamic conflicts. I suggested that we should be cautious in promoting lucid dream induction because, ultimately, we cannot presume to claim dominion over the unconscious. Jungians, in particular, have always a bit wary of the claims of lucid dreamers because the power of unintegrated archetypal forces remains a central tenet in Jungian psychology. And yet, some of the experts at the time, including LaBerge, chided me and others who were advising caution.
I felt that I was simply acknowledging the limits of our knowledge of the interior realm, and that if I was wrong nothing would be lost, but if I was right, people might be spared unnecessary psychological distress. I felt it was best to proceed with humility, given the possibility of ‘retaliation’ from orphaned aspects of oneself, or the power of the psyche that has never been fully integrated. I have never advised anyone not to pursue lucid dreaming, only to acknowledge the limits of our understanding. Somewhere in the Bible, it says, ‘Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom‘. I think it‘s the same idea.
The issue of ‘control’ seems an extremely important one, since it helps shape our view and responses within the lucid dream. Instead of asking, ‘Should we control our dreams?’ which presumes we do control our dreams, it seems the more essential question, ‘Do we control our dreams?’ should come first. Obviously, when lucid, we influence and respond to situations, but do we control?
I think this question of whether we actually control or dreams or not, is unanswerable. It certainly seems to be true at times, but let‘s face it: Our ability to shape the dream, even while lucid, seems rather limited. But regardless, I prefer to ask, ‘Should we try to control our dreams?’ and what does it mean to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to this question? I have always argued that we should not try to manipulate the content, regardless of whether such efforts are successful or not. Instead, I believe we should try to alter our responses to the dream.
This stance is the highest level of spiritual practice, in my opinion. I believe that there‘s no need to change the dream content if one is focused instead on the best possible response to it. Dream characters usually change anyway in response to our state of mind and heart, so trying to manipulate the content only serves to distract us from where the real power resides.
In your black panther lucid dream, you obviously do not control the black panther. So ‘Do we control our dreams?’ or does it seem more accurate to say that in lucid dreams, we relate to our dream content and our self view (mentations), and decide how to respond?
As I‘ve already stated, I think the phenomenology of the lucid dream suggests that we have some control over the content, but not much. Again, I think that it‘s best to focus on the phenomenological ‘fact’ that we are often challenged by the dream content, and that the quality of our response usually makes or breaks the dream.
A beautiful example of relating to and responding to the lucid dream occurs in a lucid dream of a friend (or was it a client), who opens the door and discovers Frankenstein, Werewolf and Dracula there! He suddenly becomes lucid at this sight, and slams the door on them. But, as we sometimes find in lucid dreams, he considers his action, and decides to make a different response. What happens?
It‘s a wonderful dream. Let‘s take a look at it:
‘I am in a cabin alone, and the door opens. Three figures enter and stand abreast just inside the doorway: Dracula, Werewolf and Frankenstein. I am alarmed, but the strangeness of the event convinces me that I must be dreaming. Realizing that they are only a dream, and that I can make them go away, I say, ‘You are only a dream. Go away!‘
‘They disappear immediately. Alone again, I think to myself, ‘Maybe I should have surrounded myself with light instead.‘ So I call out to them to return. The door opens again, and they come back in. I say to myself, ‘I surround myself with light.‘ Instantly, a pinkish white glow envelops me. As for the figures, I can barely see them through the bright haze.
‘Then I think, ‘Maybe I should invite them into the light.‘ So I say, ‘Please come into the light.‘ As they walk forward, the light fills me, and I experience an overwhelming sense of ecstatic love. Following the dream, I remained in a blissful state for several days.’
In this remarkable dream, we can see that the alarmed dreamer was immediately prompted to use his lucidity to dismiss the unwanted dream characters. So he was able to control his dream content, even though he was operating from fear. Indeed, the dreamer reacted as I had reacted toward the panther, but unlike me, he was successful in dismissing the three figures.
It‘s hard to fault him for taking this initial position, given the nature of the threat. But to his credit, the dreamer doesn’t stop there. The exercise of power over the imagery gives way to a desire to find a way to coexist with the dream figures by establishing a protective boundary between himself and the original threat. Now we‘re getting somewhere!
Lucidity isn‘t always helpful in working through longstanding conflicts, as this dream seemed to portray. Indeed, one can argue that this second solution (to find a way to coexist) would not have been possible if the dreamer had not first dismissed the dream characters, even though LaBerge and Rheingold may have advised the dreamer not to react from fear. But one can argue that the dreamer actually passed through several stages in his relationship with the nightmarish characters: He first had to become aware of them, then alarmed by them, then capable of dismissing them, then willing to coexist with them.
Finally, he welcomed them into his personal space. This developmental sequence may be the key to reconciling the pro-control and anti-control perspectives. That is, each response can be seen as necessary and ‘correct’ at different stages of the dream ego‘s development toward integrating the dream content. As a psychotherapist, I frequently celebrate a dreamer‘s capacity to fight back and to defeat a dream character, especially when I am aware that the dreamer has suffered significant relational trauma. I know that, in due time, if a client is supported in exercising power, he or she will shift toward more creative responses, eventually adopting a more conciliatory position.
Embracing a developmental model casts a different light on the debate of whether or not one should control one‘s dreams. That is, instead of answering ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ one should instead ask, ‘Where am I in my developmental process of healing and integration?’ If the dreamer is arrested in his or her resolution of unfinished business – or, conversely, resisting the positive potentials within the psyche – and exhibiting a chronic, contextually inappropriate response to the dream content, then we might feel concern regardless of the response.
The friend/client writes that for days afterwards, he felt ecstatic after this lucid dream. Did he face Shadow energies, and inwardly resolve them and emotionally heal in the lucid dream, which resulted in the new feeling of elation? Or how do you see this?
Yes, I believe that significant psychospiritual energy – or the kundalini/Shakti – is sequestered in the psychic split between ego and shadow, and that whenever the split is resolved, however temporarily, there is a release of powerful healing and creative energies, often culminating in the experience of the awakening of the Kundalini, and the perception of Light and ecstasy.
I would be contradicting myself to say that a lucid dreamer should always make friends with whatever presents itself. No, it‘s far better to respond appropriately in the moment, and then to allow the relationship to evolve. If you feel you have to run from, or even to kill a monster, there is no error in the long run because the process of individuation will not allow you to stop short of integration. The relationship will arise in a new form, until you work through the various stages that are required for complete fulfillment.
I recall in one of your therapy sessions, a client reported a lucid dream which surprised her. Tell us a bit about that, if you would.
Yes, a client – who was a frequent lucid dreamer – once dreamt that she was digging in a trash pile, and discovered a doll at the bottom of the rubbish. As she held the doll, and looked at its face, it came to life, and she realized she was dreaming. Instead of celebrating, the dreamer was shaken to her core, and felt deeply disturbed upon awakening. You would think that she would have been happy with the prospect of the doll becoming a real person; but her own damaged sense of self was so ‘true’ for her that to imagine a rebirth was more stressful to her than accepting her chronic, damaged self.
We have to be sensitive to the fact that the ‘good news’ that is revealed in the lucid dream can sometimes run counter to a deeply entrenched sense of self. In the long run, once again, this is all good; but in the short term, we should be prepared for the various ways that lucid dreaming can shake up the status quo, and create a temporary state of instability. In the East, such events are considered a normal part of the process, and remedies are always available to those who are passing through these ‘transitional states.’
In the west, we often see such events through a negative lens, and too quickly pathologize a person‘s distress. We really need a more sophisticated approach which acknowledges the psychological dangers of lucid dreaming. Anything as powerful as lucid dreaming has the potential of destabilizing the personality. In Tibetan Yoga and Secret Doctrines, dream yoga is considered an accelerated path, and because of that, it is also seen as relatively destabilizing. The aspirant is advised to have a guru who can oversee the process. How many of us take this advice to heart? And at what risk do we proceed without such oversight?
In your more recent book, Healing the Fisher King, you interweave lucid dreams, the myth of Amfortas (the Fisher King) and personal experiences with stories of growing up and fishing near Padre Island on the Gulf of Mexico. I really enjoyed the book. You begin the book with a poignant dream on July 30, 2002. In the dream, a stingray transforms into a man of stone and begins to attack you. What happens next in the dream, and waking life?
I fought for my life, and was able to chip away at the man of stone until there was nothing left of him. This ordeal mirrored the actual struggle with a life-threatening bacteria that entered my body through a sting ray‘s wound, which happened while I was wade fishing only three days after the dream. The crisis forced me to look at how I‘d kept myself aloof from being fully available, and fully embodied.
Briefly, what lesson or connection do you see between the myth of the Fisher King, and your personal experience of dreams, lucid dreams and life?
I have discovered that a man with too much ambition, who is deficient in feeling and a sense of remorse for the pain he has caused others, is a dangerous force in the world. A man often has to be brought to his knees, and his heart opened before he can become a force of constructive change in the world.
You conclude the book with a chapter, ‘The Way of Surrender’. How does ‘surrender’ figure into lucid dreaming, and what value comes to the person who follows that path?
I believe without question that the ultimate on the mystic‘s path is to die to who we are, and what we think we know. Paul said, ‘I die daily.’ It takes courage to cross that threshold again and again, and to leave the ego at the door. Practicing various forms of meditation and yoga, including lucid dreaming, can better enable us to say ‘yes’ whenever that opportunity arises. I wish you all the courage you need!