Ever tried to lucid dream?
I’ve long been interested in this topic – but, alas, I suck at managing dream manipulation.
From hypnosis and binaural beats to diligently taking notes on that rotoscope film, “Waking Life”, I’m pretty sure I’ve tried it all. And, don’t get me wrong. The tools I’ve attempted have all made for some pleasant subconscious experiences. However, I’ve yet to make that crucial connection while in my altered state where I realize, “This isn’t real! I can eat this campfire like it’s a birthday cake!”
At least, that’s what this one chick, Beverly D’Ursu, did who became famed for lucid dreaming.
Actually, if we’re being honest, it wasn’t really her fire eating or flying to the sun on her snooze holidays that made her well-known in the LD community. What was? Sex, of course. Specifically – naptime nookie with a literal “man of her dreams”. One who she approached after swooping down from the sky where she had been enjoying a nice afternoon flight, obviously. (That actually sounds like an optimal way to start trolling for tail IRL. That way, if they reject you, you can just beam yourself vertically upward and save yourself the shame strut as you depart.) From Beverly’s imaginarium, however, there’d be no rejection from her manly vision who she invited into her astral body. He complied, she says, right there in public. The most fun part? That they actually documented all of the brain activity to confirm it – with nether electrodes and all. Yes, ladies and gents. First recorded lucid dream-gasm award goes to Miss Beverly.
Alright, so dream sex sounds fun. But are there other benefits to lucid dreaming?
Apparently, yes. There are no rules. You can walk on the sun like Beverly did, or you can travel to other times and dimensions. You can meet your heroes and celebrity crushes (and, as we’ve discussed, bed them from your bed, too). You can fly. You can construct dream scenarios ahead of time and then Wes Anderson it to life frame by perfect little Bill Murray filled frame. But it’s good for more than just recreational R.E.M.’ing. LD-ers have also credited the practice with solving their smorgasbord of brain born assailants that accost them on a daily basis. In fact, reports have been made claiming that lucid dreaming can do everything from karate chopping your writer’s block and honing physical activity skills to overcoming irrational fears, anxieties, and PTSD.
(Now do you see why I’m trying so hard?)
But maybe that’s my problem. They do say that trying too hard can be counterproductive.
So then how do I do it? Where’m I going wrong here?
Mmmright. That’s great advice an’ all, but can you like… put it in, ya know, intelligible language?
Well, a few tips I just found suggest that you keep a dream journal (too lazy), affirm that you’ll lucid dream before you fall asleep (which I never remember to do), meditate (you’d think – as much as I do that – the dream gods’d throw me a frickin’ bone), and to do reality checks – which is looking around your mind manifested landscape to notice things that aren’t real so you can make yourself aware you’re not awake. They say to keep some object you can “check” on while you’re awake (I think that’s what they did in “Inception”, too, right?), so that you can check for it while you’re dreaming. If, one day, you do this check and your pocket watch starts suddenly reciting Edgar Allan Poe poems instead of giving you the time, then you know you’re in le Matrix. (Or that you shouldn’t’ve eaten those mushrooms your roomie gave you.)
Yes – those “reality checks”. I never do that. But… I think I’m starting to know why: dream me is smarter than awake me. See, I have so many “this is too weird – must be a dream” things happening to me all day long in reality. So dream me knows that if I eat fire or proposition a stranger for sex, there’s a good chance it’ll end up being real. And I’ll just end up burning.
(Or with burning pee.)
Yeah… maybe I’ll leave this one to the Beverly’s of the world.