Doorknob: What can I do for you?
Alice: Well, I'm looking for a white rabbit... so, ummm, if you don't mind... (Peers through keyhole.) There he is! I simply must get through!
Doorknob: Sorry! You're much too big. Simply impassable.
Alice: You mean impossible?
Doorknob: No, impassable. Nothing's impossible.
--Walt Disney, Alice in Wonderland, 1951
The Urumara is not just a dream archetype, it's the dream archetype, the dream archetype about dreaming, specifically about entering a certain level of dreaming funtionality. It is a major landmark on the map to the Unworlding, not just major but pivotal. The ice breaker. So of course it's the one that the experts are telling everyone to ignore when they say, "You don't have to go through sleep paralysis." Well of course, being experts, they're right, in a sense. We must always pay close attention when the experts try to slam a door in our face, because they have their reasons, being experts. And you don't have to go through sleep paralysis consciously. But you have to go through the Urumara.
With that in mind, let's spend some of our precious waking moments wondering why--despite much official resistance--there is, and always will be, so much emphasis on sleep paralysis and the other phenomena associated with the Urumara, the place where the Tunnel opens up into the Projection Room. The point of expansion from transition states to the real thing. That being the place where we can start to consider baby steps a thing of the past.
We dream in all states of mind. We even daydream with the body wide awake. How many freeway exits can you drive past without even seeing them, while thinking about something that isn't happening, and then take your accustomed exit (or drive past it too) without thinking about doing that either?
In dreams I find that forms of transit tend to be unworlding experiences in the Tunnel, lacking focus, in which I'm trying to get from here to there. In order to get somewhere, I have to focus: I have to find something, remember where I was going, get unlost, get up a nearly vertical incline, escape from a pursuer, get through a tight spot, carry my car past a snag in traffic or a bump in the road, etc. All these obstacles are invitations to focus. This points to the purpose of the Tunnel: it's no picnic spot to just sit in and watch the pretty pictures; it's something we have to get through in order to experience the vastness of the Unworld. The Tunnel goes somewhere: to the Urumara. When we get there, we will need something that is being expected of us, in order to go further, that is, through the Urumara into the Unworld at large.
The transit through the Tunnel is a test of our ability to focus. Focusing is about narrowing one's interests, dropping attachments. And while we hope to experience everything consciously, the 2-3-4 mind with its flimsy excuses is trying to lose all of its consciousness instead of just the icky part. So the spoiled-rotten 2-3-4 finds this journey of focusing decidedly uncomfortable, and rebels by focusing its awareness down to literally zero, throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Thus when dreaming in the Tunnel, the invitations of the Urumara to focus in order to be awake for the transition to the Unworld often represent themselves to the 2-3-4 as scary, limiting or otherwise frustrating dream plotlines. Fences, walls, locked doors, small openings, and the like.
For example, last night (March 7, 2017) I had an awesomely representational experience of the Urumara, and it's been my Intent-o-genda for some time now to do this, but lucidly. I wasn't lucid last night, but here is the dream:
2017-03-07 1:15 am
"Put the Whiny Part First"
My dad [SC] is questioning me about who is sending me these spiral-bound books [dream journal] about personal topics with my name printed in them--family history of some sort that I hadn't ordered. He's concerned about the time it takes to produce the books. I agree that the books are hard to make right and I state that if you're very well organized and don't make any mistakes, you can print and bind them quickly. You can get it done efficiently when you develop a rhythm with your routine. But one mistake can set you back for hours and mess up your whole operation. I hope he doesn't think I'm ordering these books. I don't even know where they came from.
Curious now as to the source of the books, I look at the first page of one because it's the page with my name inserted by software. Some of the printing and especially some lozenge-shaped buttons [CHOLINE BITARTRATE, this is day 2 and it is awesome], are PINK [my personal lucidity color]. The buttons are hyperlinks which say "ENTER AS" and "LEAVE AS". The sheet appears to be an order form for more books as well as an invoice for the one it's bound into. I know who's sending these books. He's in the club. [Bruce D., an actor whose nephew I knew briefly before he committed suicide.] The invoice has a series of blank lines for comments, with the instructions, "Put the whiny part first."
The hyperlink buttons expand into two large rooms in a convention center like you might see in a hotel. The two large rooms are separated by a roped-off area separated by a small opening [the Urumara] leading from one section where I am alone [the last section of the Tunnel, the Green Room], to the other where the action is [the first part of the Unworld, the Projection Room]. I go through and stop to INVESTIGATE THE GATE [as per my Intent-o-genda]. The gate is controlled by a computer monitor up about head height which is an expansion of the hyperlinks I saw in the book. I now clearly understand that the touch screen with its animated cartoon characters allows you to select, in regards to going between the two rooms, who you "enter as" and who you "leave as". Basically you can leave room A as Joe Blow while entering room B as someone else. The flexibility is incredible, as you can then leave room B as a third identity and enter room A as a fourth, if you choose--and you can choose any identity, even as a PINK RABBIT if you want, like Bugs Bunny or whatever. What's really cool is that you can select for each transition whether you'd like that WITH OR WITHOUT AMNESIA!
Now SC and I are delivering a DEAD BODY [my unconscious 2-3-4 mind] in the DEAD of the night to the dwelling of the actor Bruce D. [who produced the books and sent them to me hoping I would pay for them.] I find this frightening, but it's SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE. We rush through a long CORRIDOR [the Tunnel] with the contraband stiff [not seen]. We arrive at a sliding screen DOOR [the Urumara], pull it open quickly and jet the body through, slamming the door shut noisily and taking off outta there like a bat out of hell. [The pressure difference between the Green Room and the Projection Room causes an uncomfortable acceleration when one is at the very end of the Tunnel about to go through the dreaded Urumara.]
Now in my bed [real bed here at home but still dreaming] I am in a state of PARALYSIS [the Urumara up close and personal--finally!] when I am stricken by panic due to the sound of someone walking on the tin roof outside the upstairs window where we sleep. [Intruder panic--typical part of sleep paralysis.] I face my fear and overcome the paralysis, managing to ROLL OUT of bed so I can confront the intruder. [This wakes me up. This was an awesome, long, detailed dream, not lucid but perfectly fulfilling my Intent-o-genda. Wanted to re-enter it since I woke in REM, but after going over it and falling back to sleep, I managed to get up and write it down, which took an hour of my precious sleep time, but worth it. Note that while most dreams, like this one, contain one or more elements easily interpreted as the Urumara, in this dream I also experience sleep paralysis itself. I am getting very close now. Started meditating before bed last night and that is what's making a big difference besides the choline bitartrate which seems quite effective though it's only the second night for that.]
In terms of the Map of the Unworlds, the preliminary transit leading to the Unworld is a journey through the Tunnel. This is a commonly recurring symbol represented by a long, narrow room or building, a road, trail, tunnel, cave, mall, etc. You are having a non-lucid, ordinary, symbolic dream which is the body's sleeping equivalent of a Spontaneous Noticing session. The Tunnel can be transited asleep or awake. If awake, Noticings, especially of the visual kind, will be relatively spontaneous and vivid. When transiting the Tunnel asleep, there will be dreams and altered states which unfocused dreamers would usually pay no attention to. Often the symbols and meaningful connections such as "I am driving a car and a woman is in the passenger's seat" are just ideas, assumptions, with no visual representation at all. From such non-lucid seeds spring many a non-lucid dream. How do we get out of the rut of boring dreams that hardly seem worth writing down? How do we prove that our focus will survive if the Dream Usher lets us out of the Tunnel through the dreaded Urumara? Or as often happens, squirts us out with some momentum.
Focus of attention is what selects experience A over experience B. It's the use of twoness, the essence of separation, as a tool: selectivity. The 2-3-4 mind prefers to just go with the status quo and experience Episode 92457 of the same old worn-out junk dreams it experienced yesterday, which mostly consist of replaying emotional addictions. Energetically engaging the other harmonics of awareness, that is the Uppers, allows twoness to become a tool that can select among a great variety of unworlding experiences--waking or sleeping--or else just let inertia replay more of the same emotional garbage by habit. This is the vaunted "critically important reboot of the tired organism's worn-out brain during the first four-to-six hours of sleep" that we are told by the experts is so dad-blamed important. Hogwash. This is actually the 2-3-4 wasting its time and energy in the same way it did when it was awake: addictively. Advanced unworlders can learn to dream lucidly during any part of the sleep cycle and even while awake. The reboot is certainly important, and can take place in waking awareness before sleep (meditate before bed, hint, hint). Reboots as such only require a few minutes of actual sleep. All of which I intend to prove someday, so stay tuned.
The purpose of becoming familiar with the Map of the Unworlds is to induce lucidity: the knowledge of who you are, where you are, how you got there, what you're doing there, where you've been, where you're going. To consciously unworld, the 2-3-4 or waking, conscious mind has to be reduced to a practical, slimmed-down degree that is goal-oriented instead of being all about compulsive emotional replay. This slimming-down process is what retains the 2-3-4 as a tool while stripping away the attached feedback loops of "so-and-so did such-and-such to me and I should have called the police and maybe I still will..." which can express itself as petty fight-and-spite dreams the rest of your life... or you can learn to recognize dream landmarks like the Tunnel and the Urumara and the Nothing, and remember your dream goals, your Intent-o-genda, instead of feeding your precious energy into endless feedback loops spurred on by habitual fears and pain/pleasure trains.
You can fiddle with emotions in the Tunnel and never even know it's all a dream, while it's hard to face basic realities beyond the Urumara without becoming at least a little bit lucid. So if a high degree of focus is desired in dreams, it's highly recommended that we learn to forget about the petty concerns of real life which are not going to change much no matter how much we should want them to. Don't tell your friends you've stopped caring, or they might have you committed. But if your best friend's favorite topic of discussion was to inform you whenever you are being insulted and belittled, who needs friends anyway? Egobloat or self-importance is not your friend. Strip that puppy down to size; make it sleep outside with the dogs, not in your bed with you. In order to experience unworldings farther from home, we have to become comfortable farther away from home. And home is where our attachments are.
This sort of sounds like any old lucid dream book translated into my new terminology. Here is where the difference lies: the Landmarks of the Unworld are a hundred times easier to use as lucidity cues than "The clown has three eyes, that's weird, I must be dreaming, wow I can see my hands too." I confess that this is theory on my part. I am, after all, a beginner. But I intent to prove that I am right, because the Tunnel, the Urumara, the Projection Room, and the Nothing are so prevalent in my dreams, compared to clowns with three eyes, and my own hands, that I believe once I get it through my dream head (the groggy and malnourished Uppers) that these landmarks appear in virtually every dream, I can throw out the rest of the lucid dreamer's handbook and just focus on 1) unworlding landmarks and 2) my intent-o-genda as a substitute for dream plotlines foisted on me by the infinitely boring and repetitive 2-3-4 mind. As for non-optional portions of the dreamer's handbook, I expect to find that a dream journal, something similar to meditation, and a magical mindset are all that's needed, and maybe more than what's needed, by unworlders who are deeply knowledgable from vast experience in the Unworld.
This gets back to Living in the Reality Check. Now instead of just scrawling my dream journal in the middle of the night, typing it up later when I get around to it, I have another, more important goal: I have to read the journal, again, carefully, and locate the symbols in those dreams upon the Map of the Unworlds. By doing this, I will teach the 2-3-4 mind a new, more productive topic to get repetitiously obsessed with: the Map of the Unworlds. The nice thing about 2-3-4 is that it's not the enemy. It can be taught. It is an indispensable tool when it comes to setting the stage for the fruition of unworlding intentions. By indispensable, I mean indispensable. In spite of the hard time I give it, the 2-3-4 or conscious mind is not to be left behind when we go unworlding. Ever had a dream you could remember intensely for a few minutes upon waking, but not describe at all, not even one little bit? That would be an unworlding where the 2-3-4 had not been invited along for the ride. A shame. For useful unworlding sessions that constitute real experience and increase our abilities, all members of the soul retinue--the Seven--have to be brought along and given their share of the work to be done that is needed to cooperatively arrive at experiences that are worth having and worth remembering.
Only with a full complement of my resources--all seven overtones of awareness--can I hope to focus on, and thus create, experiences from abstract intentionalities, involving dream elements not foreseeable from whatever I happen to find in the dream plotline itself. This is advanced lucidity: knowing not only who and where I am, but who and where I might be. The Map of the Unworlds helps in this regard since it clearly points out landmarks which might otherwise have melted into the landscape as just some sort of filler material, if I had not known what to look for. There is hardly any dream plotline without a Tunnel and an Urumara in it, and once past the Urumara, there are always multiple instances of the Nothing occurring all over the place. That's the door to everything, get it?
So ring the bell, and beat the drum, sing the good news all over the land: you no longer have to remember to wake up in your dream and stop what you're doing to look for your hands. Or for any other random dream sign that your pitifully well-intentioned conscious mind has decided you should be looking for. From now on, our dream cues are going to be coming from dreams themselves, from the very nature of unworlding itself.
Like this: "Oh wow, I'm in the Tunnel and I'm coming up on the Urumara, I must be dreaming... so here's what I have to do next..." Instead of, "Oh wow, my hands have big green warts all over them... cool, look at those spiders over there, I wonder if they bite... I feel like I've forgotten something... the bug spray? ZZZ-zzzzzzzz-ZZZZZ-zzzzzzzzz..."
Anyway, it's worth a try, because I've seen my hands in dreams plenty of times and it has never made me remember who I am. Should've, but didn't. And it's not so much about whether seeing your hands is a good dream cue or not. I mean, that old fart Don Juan had to be good for something, didn't he, in spite of Carlos' infuriating obfuscatingness. The point is that the Tunnel, the Urumara, and the Nothing are the dream cues: the Universal Dream Cues behind the myriad of seemingly random and therefore, I would think, relatively unrecognizable dream cues. The landmarks on the Map of the Unworlds are the pure essence of the dream cue itself. Unless I am horribly mistaken by something that is coming to seem increasingly obvious to myself--an obsessively detailed dream journaler--the dream cues you need to look for are programmed into every dream already and you only need to know what they are and how to recognize them. This should make it a lot more easy and natural to find yourself knowing what's going on in any old unworlding state. Looking for not only personal lucidity objects, but landmarks common to all travelers, should increase your potential unworlding flexibility many-fold.
That's the theory anyway.
Oh, and now that you mention it, my first conscious unworlding exit took place a year and ten days ago right after I dreamed about rabbits getting sucked down a tunnel that opened up in my back yard. Which is neither here not there; the point is that it wasn't till I typed and edited this whole chapter and found a picture of some rabbits to add to it that I realized the importance of pink rabbits. Should have realized it during my dream last night. I'm not berating myself; I have a funny feeling that something is building.