The only good reason for conscious awareness to exist at all is to satisfy its curiosity about what it doesn't know.
2016-02-28 12:45 am
[Lay down again, intention to enter a silent state instead of making the insomniac's mistake of dwelling on whether or not I feel sleepy. This worked immediately as it usually does, and I could have gotten out of bed to record stuff four times in five minutes, but thought better to get some sleep.]
[LS1] My voice: "Real sin! Real sin!" I shove off with intention and in front of me--top of steep, snowy, craggy mountain at night--Santa's sleigh takes off down the hill and into the air. [I wake up, obviously this was Dreambody lifting off. Then just now a real dream:]
I get back to the cabin at night to wait for KK to show up. The furniture is old and the living room is long, with the other rooms taking the back half of the wooden structure. I am full of energy, dancing around chanting and gesticulating: "Doin' this! Doin' that! Busy busy busy busy!" I notice the curtain on the glass paned front door is open, and leap to the window with a self-conscious grimace for anyone who might have been spying on my prancing about, but no one's there. There is snow on the ground, a cold, clear night. The covered front porch also runs the length of the rectangular cabin, and extending onto the floor of the wooden porch from inside the living room is the big, dark brown and tan patterned rug that is in the living room. I recognize the pattern--it's the Asian blanket I use as a bedsheet in my breathing room.
[I wake up instantly, drooling on my pillow and not lying on my back, very comfy, but a little chilly due to not having a blanket on yet. Finally remember my instructions to try to roll out immediately upon awakening. Try it and get some movement, visually rotating patterns in my visual field, but I figure I'm not being aggressive enough. I try to imagine rolling harder and just plopping out of the bed like this morning, but nothing comes of it...]
[LS] Restriction on internet group posting because it might start a bull fight. I take exception except as regards Mexico. "Shah-man, the key is knowing when to tell the truth."
[I have largely overcome my over-sensitive bladder-emptying urge just by refusing to make superfluous trips to the john while awake. This matters because upon awakening, if I can ignore the urge to get up and pee, then it will help me stay focused on what I am capable of doing at the moment of sleep transition.]
[Based on last night's unwelcome sleeplessness, which was powered by my internal energy but triggered by a person talking at length on the front porch of the house next door at 3 am, here is a new practice I've devised for retraining the jitterbutton to be insensitive to noise. Here it is:]
Clear the mind of all thoughts. You are a dweller on a planet where all residents fly around in their astral bodies all the time with their physical bodies parked under a tree. On this planet, there are many beautiful singing fairies who spread pixie dust throughout the atmosphere. On this planet, people breathe with their ears. There are many beautiful waterfalls and beaches. The sound of the waterfalls is what keeps people in their astral form. When your body hears the sound of voices, it is pixie dust. Breathe it in through your ears. When a car or refrigerator makes a sound, it is a waterfall or a wave lapping up on shore, or a babbling brook. Breathe it in through your ears. As you breathe on the astral planet, the sounds that enter your ears make you more aware of being awake in your astral body and able to fly anywhere you want to go.
[Works great. With several chattering, laughing children right outside my open window, I just went to sleep and took a nap to the tune of fairy wings flapping and babbling brooks. Will now meditate.]
[Lying down to slip out before birthday party. Because during meditation I felt like I was stuck in a fairly hypnagogic generative condition so will take advantage of that.]
[Active hypnagogic sessions alternating deep, fast chest breathing, little sleeps, little dreams, twitches of phantom limbs, probable non-lucid OBEs.]
Our house is a tall concrete cathedral (not far from true). I look at it from the outside, then the inside, where it's a jumble of space with no divisions into rooms [True]. Manang Eles is there, walking around oddly scattered furniture to get to a paper or calendar hanging on a post in the middle of a downstairs room.]
[The last one was the best--full on dream--]
I--or my dreambody while I watch--am throwing rocks at a flat rock on the ground to break it. When it cracks into several pieces, I pick one up and inspect it closely. It is beautiful green hard jasper with lighter lines running through it. I run my thumb along the side, it is so soft and smooth and hard. [Very close to lucid.]
[LS1] Strong astral twitch of the left foot which woke me up. I thought about it and realized it was not a physical motion. Also there was a separate presence there just before that. I was only barely asleep.
2016-03-02 12:15 am
[Shared three liters of beer with four other people about 5 pm...]
[The episodes of this dream are hopelessly jumbled in memory.]
Homeless and alone, the presence of the silent companion is still remembered inexplicably. I take shelter in a cave at night and fall asleep there, only to wake up with water lapping at me. This is terrifying and I manage to leap to safety, surprised and relieved, to find warm dry sand only a few feet away. I voice relief to silent companion and we haul butt out of there.
I enter a park on a hill where there are adult-sized swing sets, so I hope to sleep in one of the swings, since no one's there this night. I see that all the swings are occupied by nuns, and as I walk along with the swings on my left, the nuns keep multiplying, then there are maybe 30 nuns hanging out in swings chatting merrily amongst themselves. I remind myself that nuns are just people, they like to shoot the breeze like anyone else. After the nuns come the many homeless they care for, standing around in their clean faded coveralls and neatly trimmed white beards and plaid shirts, looking quite secure in the company of the young nuns on this nice sunny day. I wonder what it would be like to join them, but I don't need the company and don't want the stigma of being seen standing in a soup line.
I've been apprehended--Silent Companion is now something like a dog catcher for the homeless, but still is not seen. Although I'm supposed to be in his custody walking somewhere, I insist on entering a park to retrieve the paperback science fiction novel I had been reading when I was so badly frightened back at the cave. There's a small metal plate at the entrance to the park attached to the chain link fence that surrounds the park. The sign says "John Lothario". At the far end of the park the paperback--written by John Lothario--is sitting on the sand outside the cave. The pages are stuck together from having gotten wet and then drying in the sun. Mr. Lothario, who owns the park, is not too upset to find me there, so I show Taran a small volcano about ten feet by ten feet but then Lothario [a name my wife calls me] snaps at me that we will be killed if we touch the boiling hot springs inside. I pull Taran away and suggest haughtily to John Lothario that he put up a sign that is yellow and [I list three other colors] to warn people off, so he doesn't get sued. John Lothario looks like "Steven" from the dream a few days ago--in other words--like me.
As we pass a series of earth features jutting out of the ground, no more than ten feet tall or so, but all showing signs of hot springs, I ask him if he had to buy the park just to make the movie--you know, the one I was watching a few episodes back that scared me so badly. Taran is climbing on a mushroom-shaped projection jutting up from the earth and as he stands on the edge of the cap to jump down, it tips a little as if not properly attached to the ground.
I enter an area about the size of two or three tennis courts that's fenced-in by tall chain link fence. My companions are gone. It's like a dog park but instead of dogs, the people in it have absurd animals of every imaginable color. A fuzzy stuffed brontosaurus runs past me on stubby legs not completely full of stuffing, so I wonder if there are actually children inside it operating the legs. The brontosaurus is about six to eight feet long and less than three feet tall. It is smiling and bright yellow. Having waded through this bizarre place, I'm ready to get out of there, so I cross over to a gate and try to scare the animals away from me so they won't escape the enclosure when I open the gate to go through.
[Wife is downstairs screaming to wake up, but I'm still asleep.] I go into the house [Stockton] telling her to get Ivan and Taran to wake each other up. Ivan stands up from his sleeping mat on the living room floor and stretches and smiles. I rub his head and wake up.
2016-03-03 4:12 am
Mr. Murray has come out of retirement to open up a shiny new improved expanded Postal Center in a mall. I accidentally refer to myself as Luther and then ask him to change it on my records since I'd forgotten that I use "Buddy" as my name at the PC. There are xmas gifts for the many young employees and Mr. Murray shows slides from a European vacation. Mr. Murray is repeatedly pushing a buzzer and saying, "Can anyone hear that?" in his pretendedly cynical way, because everyone has been lax in reporting to the front counter when he calls their names.
After work I'm sitting on a bench in the mall on the far left end and a chubby young woman with curly black hair wearing PINK and white pajamas sits next to me. Her father who looks like "Steven" is standing to our right haranguing her in a despotic tone. She gets closer and closer to me, coming pretty close to putting her head in my lap.
Walking home--apparently this is San Diego---I'm waiting at an intersection at a light. A cable car coming up the hill. A retarded guy--again looks like "Steven"--calls out some currently popular buzzword twice, thinking it's the funniest thing anybody ever said. It does get my attention since he's standing a foot from my right elbow. I look to my right and some of his retarded friends are standing around. [These are my various dreambodies awaiting their education in how to merge with my conscious awareness.] I wonder why we're all waiting here, so I look at the traffic light and it's been green for go, maybe for some time.
We proceed across the street and the taller guy who called out is now silent companion and still at my right elbow. On the wide sidewalk once across the intersection I demonstrate for him the ability to take larger and longer and higher steps till we are floating from footfall to footfall.
Then I start getting lost by going down these short flights of metal stairs painted dark green which lead to the front doors of apartments that open up below sidewalk level. From the sounds I can hear through the doors, I get the impression that what lies on the other side of the doors is exemplary of extreme squalor. I remark, "The ants are coming out of that place!" Then the doorways get to be only two feet tall and stuffed under a metal landing and I get claustrophobia trying to crawl under them to get to the other side. I must have thought i was taking a short cut.
[I woke up in vibrations, listening to inner sounds, and watched images which sharpened immediately--strong hypnagogic state. The purple lines are moving sine waves drawn with a fine, clean line, perfectly, with a middle horizontal line delineating the equilibrium level. I ride this state into LS...]
[LS] Dreambody tries to get my attention by aggressively shoving the curtain that serves as a fourth wall of my breathing room.
[Then I meditated and during this, I got the words:]
"It's about time they got one of those big birds in here." [See vision during meditation Aug. 18 5:30 a.m.]
[Keywords jotted down don't help recall dreams--either put passion into keeping a journal or forget it.]
2016-03-07 11:45 am
[Got sleepy typing dream journal, now lying down in breathing room.]
[Took about 15 deep fast breaths and immediately springboarded into a little sleep.]
[LS] A bossy and busybody but well-meaning and helpful middle-aged man wags his finger at me and says, "We're not saying anything!" and then points at the two guys who had trickily brought me here and says to them, "We're gonna get you out of this." [In other words, some mischief has taken place but it's gonna be OK.]
[Several LS followed.]
2016-03-08 3:30 am
I'm sitting in my parked car where I can see a highway. Someone is driving a U-haul-sized white truck recklessly. It bounces off a curb and spins around, giving me a chance to repeat its license plate number to myself several times ("VO" something) so I can report the driver to the authorities. The van approaches me and stops. The bad guys interview me. We transact some business. They leave. I drive to their bank and go in. It's after hours, only my friend is there, a woman with big hair, dirty blonde. She gives me a secretive smile. I asked if they made the deposit. She says yeah--right into the secret compartment in the arm of her chair. She shows me the card and the deposit slip. My friend and I are going on a nice long vacation, all expenses paid by the money of the bad guys which we conned them out of.
[Earlier versions include:]
Approaching the police in the parking lot, but they attack me and I fight them off with a magnificent flying kick to the jaw which I replay over and over in my mind.
3:45 - 5:30 am
[Meditation, then back to sleep with blindfold, in breathing room. Lots of awakenings.]
In a bed with MW and Dean F. She's lying next to me, which makes me uncomfortable, so Dean switches to the middle. Then in a white featureless space, I'm looking at Dean's hair and it has become longer and very dense and thick like Colt's hair or like D. McCabe's hair. Then it's me and I'm looking at myself, realize with surprise that I've let my hair get quite long, to shoulders, below shoulders, wow, look, it's down to my butt. No really it's past my butt, wow, my hair's really long. [The part about MW was much more detailed, but I'm late writing this down so forgot it.]
In a friendly, warm, soft, somewhat cluttered darkish living room with Breeze as silent companion showing him a series of large books I have rebound in cloth that has a royal blue/midnight blue pattern with metallic gold lines embedded in it which really sparkle. Breeze is admiring the work when Sensei Smartt walks in and Breeze hollers out, hey look what Luther did.
I'm embarrassed and don't want to be seen gloating, so I go over to a water dispenser and start filling a cup, stifling a spontaneous self-satisfied grin. Sensei looks at the book (I'm trying to act casual so I don't actually see him) and loudly remarks, "Lu-ther!" since I'm pretending not to notice, he starts talking to Breeze about some big words scrawled in French on a large piece of paper, translating it.
4:00 - 5:30 am
[Woke up around meditation time but was buzzy from dream state and thought it would be better to stay in bed to get some awakenings practice. Over the next hour or two I had several awakenings, dreams, attempts to re-enter dreams, very long and vivid detailed hypnagogic images, continuous buzzing. Attempts at phantom wiggling failed. Finally remembered to look through the hypnagogic image, but went to sleep. Tried straining and was hearing sounds all along even after I was finally out of bed at the usual time. ]
[Tired of repeating mantra so much, tried only using mantra when thoughts popped up. This made the meditation much more interesting since it's not about the mantra which I've had so many decades it's like just more noise.]
[not asleep] Lost awareness of body. Visual field is like a black computer screen without the computer. Conscious awareness is a small X on the screen (literally). The X is at far upper right corner of screen but trying to wander off screen. I keep pulling it back. When it starts to wander off screen I start to lose consciousness. When I haul it back on screen I regain consciousness. Finally I click the X mentally and wake up, i.e. become conscious of the body in the chair. [I was not asleep--head was not slumped down--all above is literal. Progress toward maintaining consciousness at the edge of sleep. This was not a planned visualization or a hypnagogic image, it was deeper than that.]
[LS1] Certain people are being told to enter the bus at the back door and sit in the back. I'm one of those people in a way, but I enter through the front door and plan to proceed to the back, but I'm surprised how short the bus is. It would be a miracle to fit all these people on this bus.
[LS4] [I often awaken from LS in a panic, trying to breathe, then the first breath is like pulling water through mud. This is all the suction of sleep, the heavy lead blanket on the chest, and I am more and more certain that it is also sleep paralysis or a variety of SP. I have never had a truly unmistakable experience of being conscious during sleep paralysis, but I think this is close.]
9:00 - 11:00 pm
[Practiced light sleeping with hypnagogic and many awakenings since Taran has mumps and needs periodic comforting and since the banana packing house next door seems ecstatic to be employed, with people shouting, honking horns, laughing, and playing music. Practiced making the sounds of big truck running its engine constantly become a pink bubble blower with each bubble containing a fairy, and when the pink bubble hits the ground and pops, the bubble becomes the fairy's wings. Sound of women laughing becomes fat naked ladies holding hands with each other and rolling around on the ground giggling. Men shouting importantly at each other becomes leprechauns getting drunk and smoking together at a wooden table. Later when the truck engine is still running it becomes a hypnagogia generator. At one point I was tired of controlling my normal reaction to rude people being noisy late at night, but decided instead of getting pissed, I'd get out of bed and eat some crackers and raisins. Good move... keep reading. What happened later would not have happened if I had gotten pissed.]
2016-03-10 2:30 am
I'm helping Leslie Nielsen the comedian/actor clean up after an event. We're in a basement room preparing to put his ping pong table away, but it seems a cat has had diarrhea on it. I hate to inform Mr. Nielsen that he has placed his hand in the mess while he was standing there pontificating. I wonder if the particle board table would be ruined by being hosed off.
As we continue, the number of assistants increases. Two young janitor types and Joe C. and I are carrying half of the pp table. I try to grab dirty rags as we walk with a barely free hand, but miss one of them.
Then out of the blue, I Jump up into the air while walking. I overestimate gravity and fly up all the way to the 2 x 4 rafters where I can feel my back rolling on the 2 x 4s. I do a full flip and land back on my feet somehow. Joe asks me if I do this all the time (land on my feet) and I say, "I tend to, when I roll too far." [!Keep reading!]
[Some sounds outside.] I Hear a sound like the control knob on an American style washing machine so I figure Mr. Nielsen is washing the rags and the ping pong net and stuff. But then I wonder out loud, "Do we even have a washing machine?" I'm able to picture the Philippines style washing machine we do have, with its cheap plastic control knob on the timer, and it seems odd that it would make the sound of an American washing machine timer knob the way they click in and out with a loud thunky sound. Then I start wondering what house I'm in, and [wake up. Remembered not to move, but wanted to record the dream, so didn't practice inductions.]
[Meditation and back to sleep/inductions in the breathing room.]
[Back to sleep upstairs because Jovie is downstairs and Taran is sick in bed upstairs.]
[Several awakenings later. Wearing blindfold.]
 Solid dynamic hypnagogic episode in which I believed I was OBE and wasn't sure, but proceeded with plan of action anyway--moving around downstairs, touching things to deepen, but did not resolve my vision or don't remember it well enough to describe it. At one point I did touch the red chair under the mirror, which was my target--I recall topsy turvy sensation and not having much control, but again this was definitely more than just hypnagogic images because I went into it and did stuff with my body.
 [This is one of those "get to know your dreambody" episodes where I was unaware of being OBE till I woke up in the body and questioned what had just happened, then realized it was not a dream, but a more real experience involving dreambody.] I found myself in a chair near the bed or in my house [vs. in some dream environment.] So I'm in a chair aware of being naked [I don't sleep naked] and draping my boxer shorts over my privates and a ROYAL BLUE cloth over the boxers. [This is reminiscent of my blindfold which is just a piece of dark cloth folded over on itself and draped over my face and pinned down by the weight of my head. This works because I don't roll around when asleep. Anyway, I woke up from this thinking nothing of it for a few seconds and then realizing it is another in the "let's meet dreambody" series, not a dream at all but an encounter of some importance in my quest for conscious OBE. Unlike earlier episodes in this series, I didn't have dual consciousness, I was fully aware in my dreambody as myself and it was more vivid, in full daylight and in color, and lasted several seconds instead of just a quick on-and-off flash.]
 [I left my body with full consciousness again, for the second time in my life, after a gap of less than two weeks.]
Another of several awakenings, Taran is sick and sleeping next to me, but not in thrashing/kicking mode at present.
I'm lying on my right side when I wake up smoothly, aware of blindfold. [Notice the emerging agreement of the two voices. Not real voices but thoughts as I argued with myself about what to do.]
Me-2: So what's that big round white light at the bottom and center of my darkened visual field?
Me-1: Boring! Thats' just the light coming in past the blindfold by my nose.
Me-2: What if it isn't?
Me-1: I'll just open my eyes to check...
Me-2: Don't do that!
Me-1: Right, just in case it's really another boring hypnagogic hallucination, I'll go ahead and stare at it...
The light grows brighter and larger. I notice those buzzy sensations I often get when waking up out of the dream state... but where were they a few seconds ago? Ooh, they're growing more noticeable--wow, I'm vibrating! This is delicious! And there's the sounds! Getting louder... Oh no, my body is moving, rolling over to the left--that's bad--wait, no, that's me too! Rolling out! I'm jumping on that train, this is the real thing! Yippee! Now calm down, calm down... [Good idea, but I forgot about my plan of action.]
Just drifting, maybe I should float this way or that [lose some lucidity due to not remembering my plan.] No sight, just pleasant fearless floating, bright featureless awareness. I recognize the need to do something definite, so I grab onto something which I see as a big horizontal brick-red iron pipe and I gently launch myself through the closed window into the space above the back yard. I just float around a little in ecstasy, [sightless except for a brief glimpse of the closed window that was not visually accurate.]
Focus waning, I don't fight it, I'm in the body now, recognize I should try to leave again, but excited and want to write this down. Ten or twenty minutes of mulling over the details wide awake and delirious with gratitude for this wonderful experience of freedom.
4:45 - 6:00 pm
[I spent two hours typing from my dream journal, will now meditate and then lie down in the breathing room for an hour or so, then breathwalking on basketball court as it's getting dark.]
[Noticed that the vibes and the sounds seem louder, as if they've been freed up or made more accessible by this morning's OBE. I am convinced that the vibes/sounds brought on by breathing are the same as the ones experienced during/before/after OBE and when woken from a dream.]
[Huge ROTE--where to start--Noticed that a key to getting over the "but I don't wanna breathe hard" hump is gratitude for the way it makes me feel. Realized I had something backward. It is not this practice that makes me "feel gratitude" and gratitude is not an emotion like other emotions. (I've stated elsewhere that all emotions stem from the primal emotion Fear.) It is not the practice that creates the gratitude. It is the gratitude--the ACT of gratitude--that creates the practice. Without the gratitude (a.k.a. simple appreciation) there is no practice, no result.]
[Then the whole rest of the harmonic theory jumped out at me. Gratitude is an act, a force, not a feeling. It is a harmonic of awareness. It is SIXNESS. It is appreciation and welcome and gratitude. It is sociability... If given too much energy, it could even turn into the impulse to praise and worship and adore. It's expressed differently by each person and lost to some.]
[The first four harmonics 1 through 4 are more basic. The next four harmonics, 5 through 8, are more human. 9ness is transcendence.]
[I apparently need a fresh plan of action since I didn't know what to do this morning when I left my body. My new plan is this:
1. Walk to the big mirror downstairs, touching everything along the way to deepen.2. Dive into the mirror, remember to close eyes first if I have vision.3. Emerge in Fiddletown and re-visit Stumped No More.]
[When I was breathwalking I thought this up--revisiting Stumped No More--and it brought shivers to my spine.]