My poor baby was up on and off throughout the night with a fever, so of course I was up on and off with her. I knew I'd have an OBE, so I tried to think of an intention. I decided on asking the 'angels' to come heal my baby and make her feel better. I don't believe in angels, but in the middle of the night when I'm desperate, I like to think there's a possibility.
I'm dreaming that I woke Erik up and smacked him in the face. Because I did such an odd thing, I know I'm dreaming, and I immediately sink into the electric paralysis I am so familiar with. Instantly I remember what intentions I had set for this experience, so I called out to the angels to please come and heal my baby. The images that appeared in front of me were those of alien eyes. Black eyes barely visible in the light of night. Those are my angels?! I'm outraged. I force myself awake even though I am reminded that the only way out is through.
Of course I sink back in and out of this state at least ten times before I realize I need to either delve deeper into it or turn over and risk losing the ability to go back to sleep. I decide to surrender into this awful experience. I get this erie feeling that *they* are working on our bodies while I am in this state. And I feel violated, whether or not they are helping. I want it to stop. Finally I enter a lucid dream-like reality and I am in this beautiful hot sunny scene in the sky, surrounded by clouds. I am falling. I am under the impression I have just jumped from a plane like a sky diver. So this is supposed to be fun, and I enjoy it. I watch as the earth comes closer and closer with great speed. I try to immerse myself in the sensations of what it would feel like to be a person who has just sky dived without a parachute. What does it feel like to know I will hit the ground and die? I hold onto the beauty of the gorgeous fields of grass below me because that's all I have. And smack into the earth and into instant death.
I re-enter my paralyzed body, still feeling their presence. I get the feeling they were working on our bodies while I was "gone" in the lucid dream reality, and that that's what they're always doing while I am there. It frustrates and pisses me off. I wake myself up and reluctantly turn over.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
in search of ancestors
Eden woke me up often last night/this morning so it crossed my mind I'd probably unwillingly project. I decided if it happened, I'd have a mission: to find my ancestors and get to know them.
When the vibrations come, they are so soothing I question whether this is really happening. They become stronger and stronger, and I send out the idea that I'm searching for my ancestors. Instead of floating upward, I am instantly in space with dual awareness of being in bed. The awareness in bed feels several figures standing next to the bed, who I can only assume would be the spirits of my ancestors. But I don't know them. They are strangers. I feel the mystery of it, and I feel some fear.
The awareness in space is shooting at light speed through tunnels, many different tunnels, from one to the next, each a different color and texture. Finally I am spit out into a galaxy whose stars instantly become double helixes that move in an intentional swirl toward me until they are running through me. These are facets of my family. I receive no substantial information from these double helixes.
They disappear and I am left with the stars, floating with nothing above, nothing below, just stars. Some are very large and twinkling bright. I am mesmerized. Then the entire scene spins in circles (indicating to me a change of reality). I am relieved that the vibrations are over and now I have entered a lucid dream-like space.
I am in a house. My sister and dad are here. What follows is too personal, but I will say that I facing my immediate family first seems like an appropriate way to begin this exploration into my family's heritage.
When the vibrations come, they are so soothing I question whether this is really happening. They become stronger and stronger, and I send out the idea that I'm searching for my ancestors. Instead of floating upward, I am instantly in space with dual awareness of being in bed. The awareness in bed feels several figures standing next to the bed, who I can only assume would be the spirits of my ancestors. But I don't know them. They are strangers. I feel the mystery of it, and I feel some fear.
The awareness in space is shooting at light speed through tunnels, many different tunnels, from one to the next, each a different color and texture. Finally I am spit out into a galaxy whose stars instantly become double helixes that move in an intentional swirl toward me until they are running through me. These are facets of my family. I receive no substantial information from these double helixes.
They disappear and I am left with the stars, floating with nothing above, nothing below, just stars. Some are very large and twinkling bright. I am mesmerized. Then the entire scene spins in circles (indicating to me a change of reality). I am relieved that the vibrations are over and now I have entered a lucid dream-like space.
I am in a house. My sister and dad are here. What follows is too personal, but I will say that I facing my immediate family first seems like an appropriate way to begin this exploration into my family's heritage.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Last Night at Home
I've spent the last week at my parents' house in Burlington while my husband vacationed in Black Rock City, Nevada. Eden and I occupied the room where I used to live, during the time I had my very first OBE, in the same bed.
This morning the wee one woke me at 4:30 to party for 45 minutes. So we danced.
When we finally drifted off, snuggled very close for warmth in a cold and drafty house, I fell into the electric state I don't enjoy.
Oh no, isn't this lovely? I'm dead tired and instead of getting rest I am about to embark on an unwanted adventure in the netherworlds. Great.
The sensations are much too strong. I'm fighting it. I'm counting to 5 and it's not working. I'm too exhausted to fight this, so I surrender. Take me. I surround myself with love and light and dissolve my fear. Okay, fine, let's go.
I'm still holding onto Edie, and I hold her tight. We catapult into the dark, starry sky and I feel as though I have an audience. I'm showing this audience how great it is to be able to take my 5 month old baby with me on my astral adventures. I show them how I can spin and spin and spin surrounded by blurring stars with my sweet baby smiling with glee.
I had at least three other separate experiences, all of which I have very little memory of. Interestingly enough, when all of them were through, I remember thinking that I had documented each one very thoroughly, somehow, someway. Of course when I woke, I realized that it was not in a physical way at all, and so my conscious self is at a loss. But I have some interesting images and ideas in my mind.
I remember flying to Yelapa, to the village, for the third time out of body. I remember nothing else.
I remember seeing Tyler, and knowing that I saw him often this way.
I have an image of seeing my reflection in my old bedroom, and the image of me had bright red hair, long and styled, and I was wearing a flamenco dress, and my body was gorgeous again and I was spinning splendidly around and watching the beauty of it.
I remember discussing a job interview with another girl, who I don't now know, but I told her it was a good thing I wasn't wearing my thigh highs with the skirt. (wtf?)
I remember peering through the sliding glass door, and it was still dark out, and I knew my subconscious (the creator of these experiences) was going to show me something. I feared She would show me a gray alien. Please don't. It ended up being a 5 year old blonde girl, peeking through the fence, and then laughing and disappearing again.
The last experience I had was, again, in my bedroom, and an unusually tall woman appeared. She was wearing all black. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She was intense. She scared the shit out of me. I thought to myself, I'm really, really, not in the mood for this. So I woke myself up for the last time.
Each of these experiences were entirely separate. Entirely.
I wish I was able to document all of them down to the minute. But this is all I remember, and it means nothing to me.
This morning the wee one woke me at 4:30 to party for 45 minutes. So we danced.
When we finally drifted off, snuggled very close for warmth in a cold and drafty house, I fell into the electric state I don't enjoy.
Oh no, isn't this lovely? I'm dead tired and instead of getting rest I am about to embark on an unwanted adventure in the netherworlds. Great.
The sensations are much too strong. I'm fighting it. I'm counting to 5 and it's not working. I'm too exhausted to fight this, so I surrender. Take me. I surround myself with love and light and dissolve my fear. Okay, fine, let's go.
I'm still holding onto Edie, and I hold her tight. We catapult into the dark, starry sky and I feel as though I have an audience. I'm showing this audience how great it is to be able to take my 5 month old baby with me on my astral adventures. I show them how I can spin and spin and spin surrounded by blurring stars with my sweet baby smiling with glee.
I had at least three other separate experiences, all of which I have very little memory of. Interestingly enough, when all of them were through, I remember thinking that I had documented each one very thoroughly, somehow, someway. Of course when I woke, I realized that it was not in a physical way at all, and so my conscious self is at a loss. But I have some interesting images and ideas in my mind.
I remember flying to Yelapa, to the village, for the third time out of body. I remember nothing else.
I remember seeing Tyler, and knowing that I saw him often this way.
I have an image of seeing my reflection in my old bedroom, and the image of me had bright red hair, long and styled, and I was wearing a flamenco dress, and my body was gorgeous again and I was spinning splendidly around and watching the beauty of it.
I remember discussing a job interview with another girl, who I don't now know, but I told her it was a good thing I wasn't wearing my thigh highs with the skirt. (wtf?)
I remember peering through the sliding glass door, and it was still dark out, and I knew my subconscious (the creator of these experiences) was going to show me something. I feared She would show me a gray alien. Please don't. It ended up being a 5 year old blonde girl, peeking through the fence, and then laughing and disappearing again.
The last experience I had was, again, in my bedroom, and an unusually tall woman appeared. She was wearing all black. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She was intense. She scared the shit out of me. I thought to myself, I'm really, really, not in the mood for this. So I woke myself up for the last time.
Each of these experiences were entirely separate. Entirely.
I wish I was able to document all of them down to the minute. But this is all I remember, and it means nothing to me.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Words as Codes
I've had many OBE's and lucid dreams since my last post, but none were interesting enough or important enough to post. I gave birth to my daughter, Eden, April 3rd, and have been very happily exploring the joys of motherhood.
This morning, however, I had an experience I am making the time to type out to remember. It felt meaningful for the first time in a long time.
After getting up at 4am to soothe Eden from her tummy troubles, I finally drifted back to sleep around 6.
I am dreaming that I am laying down next to my sister outside in the woods in sleeping bags. We are camping together. I feel the vibrations take over me and know that I am going to have an OBE, and will project from this dream, with dual awareness of my body next to Erik's (and Edie's).
I float upward at high speed, freely and without worry but with a great sense of excitement. Instead of feeling true movement, the black universe filled with stars simply appears to me, blending from my previous reality.
I'm feeling bold, so I want the volume turned up. I announce "I want to trip harder." In my head I'm thinking about the theory that out of body experiences are caused by a natural dimethyltriptamine (DMT) release in certain states of consciousness. Outer space becomes even more vivid with this demand. Again, I announce "I want to trip EVEN HARDER." Now I am moving with great speed throughout space. I am passing all kinds of advanced space ships, each very different, indicating different races of beings from all over the universe.
Now this experience is very loud, the vibrations very strong, the visual field so vivid that I am overwhelmed. I now shut off my perception somewhat and wait for it to pass so that I can enter dreams and get some rest. I am tired.
I move directly into a lucid dream. (A series of events occurs before the following, but I can't remember them). I am sitting next to a window. Daphne is to my right (this is Eden's spirit/soul that visited me in my first lucid dream about her while I was pregnant). She is, again, about 5 years old with blonde hair and a delightfully sweet and goofy demeanor. Below the window outside in the twilight is my dear friend, Mark. I wave to him to come up through the window. With amazing spiritual prowess, he runs and jumps very high, smoothly landing within the room.
Mark has an entirely different face, but I know it's him. Even his dreads are much much longer, draping down his back. We begin talking, and every word feels sacred, but it's all said discreetly as though someone else, the bad-person-I'm-hiding-from, may be listening. I try with great effort to imprint the words, which feel like codes, into my consciousness so that I will remember when I wake. Daphne is listening with fierce concentration as well. (Unfortunately, I don't remember what was said).
Suddenly Mark's face blurs and I know that it's time to go. I whisper, "It's happening. I'm losing consciousness," and I feel so sad to have to let this world go. He looks at me with compassion and tells me not to worry. It's okay.
Finally my consciousness goes subconscious so that I may rest. Although I fear forgetting the words by drifting off into lucidless dreams, I am a dead tired new parent. Each minute of sleep is precious and provides me with more energy to be a better mother. So I choose rest. And all is forgotten.
But the feeling of a meaningful experience remains.
This morning, however, I had an experience I am making the time to type out to remember. It felt meaningful for the first time in a long time.
After getting up at 4am to soothe Eden from her tummy troubles, I finally drifted back to sleep around 6.
I am dreaming that I am laying down next to my sister outside in the woods in sleeping bags. We are camping together. I feel the vibrations take over me and know that I am going to have an OBE, and will project from this dream, with dual awareness of my body next to Erik's (and Edie's).
I float upward at high speed, freely and without worry but with a great sense of excitement. Instead of feeling true movement, the black universe filled with stars simply appears to me, blending from my previous reality.
I'm feeling bold, so I want the volume turned up. I announce "I want to trip harder." In my head I'm thinking about the theory that out of body experiences are caused by a natural dimethyltriptamine (DMT) release in certain states of consciousness. Outer space becomes even more vivid with this demand. Again, I announce "I want to trip EVEN HARDER." Now I am moving with great speed throughout space. I am passing all kinds of advanced space ships, each very different, indicating different races of beings from all over the universe.
Now this experience is very loud, the vibrations very strong, the visual field so vivid that I am overwhelmed. I now shut off my perception somewhat and wait for it to pass so that I can enter dreams and get some rest. I am tired.
I move directly into a lucid dream. (A series of events occurs before the following, but I can't remember them). I am sitting next to a window. Daphne is to my right (this is Eden's spirit/soul that visited me in my first lucid dream about her while I was pregnant). She is, again, about 5 years old with blonde hair and a delightfully sweet and goofy demeanor. Below the window outside in the twilight is my dear friend, Mark. I wave to him to come up through the window. With amazing spiritual prowess, he runs and jumps very high, smoothly landing within the room.
Mark has an entirely different face, but I know it's him. Even his dreads are much much longer, draping down his back. We begin talking, and every word feels sacred, but it's all said discreetly as though someone else, the bad-person-I'm-hiding-from, may be listening. I try with great effort to imprint the words, which feel like codes, into my consciousness so that I will remember when I wake. Daphne is listening with fierce concentration as well. (Unfortunately, I don't remember what was said).
Suddenly Mark's face blurs and I know that it's time to go. I whisper, "It's happening. I'm losing consciousness," and I feel so sad to have to let this world go. He looks at me with compassion and tells me not to worry. It's okay.
Finally my consciousness goes subconscious so that I may rest. Although I fear forgetting the words by drifting off into lucidless dreams, I am a dead tired new parent. Each minute of sleep is precious and provides me with more energy to be a better mother. So I choose rest. And all is forgotten.
But the feeling of a meaningful experience remains.
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