- Home
- Stephen LaBerge
Lucid Dreaming Page 6
Lucid Dreaming Read online
Page 6
But for van Eeden to accept the source of these demon-dreams as “part of my own being” was unthinkable. Apparently even more unthinkable than the alternative was an idea van Eeden admitted to be a source of considerable embarrassment: that these demonic holdovers from the Middle Ages actually existed! Was it not after all the twentieth century? Nevertheless, as a dedicated explorer of inner space, he felt compelled to account for their presence in his dreams: it was awkward, but demons they were without question, and logic demanded that if they did not come from inside his mind, they must come from somewhere else. Because he could not bring himself to believe that it was his mind that was responsible for “all the horrors and errors of dreamlife,” it must be someone else. Thus van Eeden was forced to embrace the demon hypothesis, another variation on “the devil made me do it.” This unfortunate self-defeating belief blocked all efforts to free himself from his demon-dreams.
In his inability to accept responsibility for his dreams, van Eeden was not without illustrious company. Though famously willing to confess all manner of sinful behaviors in every other area of life, Saint Augustine considered dream transgressions to cross a critical line:
Yet the difference between waking and sleeping is so great that even when, during sleep, [I sin], I return to a clear conscience when I wake and realize that, because of this difference, I was not responsible for the act, although I am sorry that by some means or other it happened to me. [emphasis mine][7]
As near as I can tell, Augustine’s position was something like this: I was not responsible for that sinful dream because it was not me who did it. If not me, then who? (The Shadow.) In the same section of the Confessions just quoted, Augustine observes that although he has thoroughly repented his previous life as a sensualist pagan, memories of his sinful habits that have little impact on him while awake powerfully influence his actions while dreaming. With the detached perspective conferred by sixteen centuries, it is easy for us to recognize the Shadow in typical association with a rigid system of morality where all is wrong or right, black or white.
So how does one go about accepting Shadow figures in dreams? There are many approaches, all of which involve entering into a more harmonious relationship with the darker aspects of oneself. One direct and effective approach is to engage Shadow figures in friendly dialogues.[8] This will make a difference with most people you encounter in dreams (or waking life) and might have surprising effects when you try it on threatening figures. do not slay your dream dragons; make friends with them. Remember that evil, like beauty, may be in the eye of the beholder. As the Afghan Sufi master, Hakim Sanai, observed 800 years ago:
If you want the mirror to reflect the face,
hold it straight and keep it polished bright;
although the sun does not begrudge its light,
when seen in a mist it only looks like glass; and
creatures comelier than angels even seem in a
dagger to have devil’s faces.[9]
To the extent that your thinking is distorted by fear, greed, anger, pride, prejudice, and faulty assumptions, you cannot tell what is really reflected in your consciousness. If your mind resembles a fun house mirror, do not be surprised if in your dream an angel seems a demon. Therefore, you would do well to assume the best. When you meet a monster in your lucid dream, sincerely greet him like a long lost friend, and that is what he will be.
The nearest thing I have had to a demon-dream was the “riot in the classroom” lucid dream introduced in Chapter 1, in which I successfully accepted and integrated one of my demons—the repulsive ogre. It seems clear on several levels that this was a healing dream. In the first place, the initial conflict, an unhealthy condition of stress, was resolved positively. Also, the dream ego was able to accept the ogre as a part of itself, and thus move toward wholeness. Finally, there is more direct evidence—the feeling of increased wholeness and well-being that I experienced upon awakening.
I believe that the feelings you wake up with after a lucid dream reliably indicate your intuitive evaluation of how you did in that dream. If you have done something in a lucid dream that you feel good about on waking, you should repeat that action in future lucid dreams. If you feel bad about some action, then avoid doing it in subsequent lucid dreams. Following this policy, of course, will lead to increasingly good feelings in your lucid dreams—and also upon awakening.
FACING THE NIGHTMARE
Do the thing you fear most and the death of fear is certain.
—Mark Twain
There is no cause for fear. It is imagination, blocking you as a wooden bolt holds the door. Burn that bar....
—Rumi
Fear of the unknown is worse than fear of the known, and this seems nowhere more true than in dreams. Thus, one of the most adaptive responses to an unpleasant dream situation is to face it, as can be seen in the following account of a series of nightmares experienced by the nineteenth-century lucid dream pioneer, the Marquis d’Hervey de Saint-Denys:
I was not aware that I was dreaming, and imagined I was being pursued by abominable monsters. I was fleeing through an endless series of rooms. I had difficulty in opening the doors that divided them, and no sooner had I closed each door behind me than I heard it opened again by the hideous procession of monsters. They were uttering horrible cries as they tried to catch me; I felt they were gaining on me. I awoke with a start, panting and bathed in sweat.[10]
This same nightmare, “with all its attendant terrors,” recurred four times in the course of six weeks. But “on the fourth occurrence of the nightmare,” the Marquis wrote,
Just as the monsters were about to start pursuing me again, I suddenly became aware of my true situation. My desire to rid myself of these illusory terrors gave me the strength to overcome my fear. I did not flee, but instead, making a great effort of will, I put my back up against the wall, and determined to look the phantom monsters full in the face. This time I would make a deliberate study of them, and not just glance at them, as I had on previous occasions.[11]
In spite of his lucidity, the Marquis “experienced a fairly violent emotional shock at first,” explaining, “The appearance in dreams of something one has been dreading to see can still have a considerable effect on one’s mind, even when one is forewarned against it.”[12] nevertheless, the intrepid lucid dreamer continued:
I stared at my principal assailant. He bore some resemblance to one of those bristling and grimacing demons which are sculptured on cathedral porches. Academic curiosity soon overcame all my other emotions. I saw the fantastic monster halt a few paces from me, hissing and leaping about. Once I had mastered my fear his actions appeared merely burlesque. I noticed the claws on one of his hands, or paws, I should say. There were seven in all, each very precisely delineated. The monster’s features were all precise and realistic: hair and eyebrows, what looked like a wound on his shoulder, and many other details. In fact, I would class this as one of the clearest images I had had in dreams. Perhaps this image was based on a memory of some gothic bas-relief.... The result of concentrating my attention on this figure was that all his acolytes vanished, as if by magic. Soon the leading monster also began to slow down, lose precision, and take on a downy appearance. He finally changed into a sort of floating hide, which resembled the faded costumes used as street signs by fancy dress shops at carnival time. some unremarkable scenes followed, and finally I woke up.[13]
After such a complete undoing, the deconstructed monster—proven nothing more than an empty suit woven from fancy and fear—never again left the archetypical costume shop to disturb the Marquis’s slumbers.
Paul Tholey has also reported that when the dream ego looks courageously and openly at hostile dream figures, their appearance often becomes less threatening. If, on the contrary, one attempts to make a dream figure disappear, it may become more threatening, as in the following case reported by G. Scott Sparrow in his seminal Lucid Dreaming: Dawning of the Clear Light:
I am standing in the hallwa
y 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 pray for Jesus’ presence and protection. But the fear is still with me as I awaken.[14]
Here the dreamer uses his marginal lucidity to try to make his frightful image disappear. I say “marginal” precisely because with full lucidity, the dreamer understands that it is irrational to try to escape the “dangers” of the dream. Acting as if dream images are actually dangerous undermines our lucidity. Would you be thinking clearly if you feared that a picture of a snake could actually bite you? And if a picture, or a movie, or a dream image could hurt you, why stop there? What would you think of yourself if you threw down this book when you saw the image to the right? Or if you read, “Asklepios, the Greek god of healing was believed to take the form of a snake”?[15]
Enough, or too much! The word “snake” has no fangs. The dream is not the thing any more or less than the word is.
Likewise, as a dream, the huge, black panther was less dangerous than a kitten. But the fearful, half-pleading statement, “You’re only a dream,” implied, “I really hope you’re only a dream!” Fear is your worst enemy in dreams; if you allow it to persist, it will grow stronger and your self confidence as well as your lucidity will grow correspondingly weaker.
Novice lucid dreamers may initially use their new powers to find more clever ways to escape their fears. This is because of our natural tendency to continue in our current frame of mind. If in a dream in which you are fleeing from harm you realize you are dreaming, you will still tend to continue escaping, even though you should now know that there is nothing to flee from. during the first six months of my personal record of lucid dreaming, I occasionally suffered from this sort of mental inertia until the following dream inspired a permanent change in my lucid dreaming behavior:
Escaping from some forgotten danger, I was climbing down the side of a skyscraper, gripping the walls like a lizard. It occurred to me that I could better escape by flying away, and as I did so, I realized that I was dreaming. By the time I reached the ground, the dream and my lucidity faded. Instead of waking up in bed, I found myself sitting in the audience of a lecture hall, privileged to be hearing Idries Shah, an eminent Sufi teacher, comment on my dream. “It was good that Stephen realized he was dreaming and could fly,” shah observed with a bemused tone, “but too bad that he didn’t see that, because it was a dream, there was no need to escape and nothing to flee.”
This account should make it very clear that while I do not believe that dreams in general are messages, equally I do not believe that dreams never contain messages! Suffice it to say, I got the message. After this dream lecture, I resolved never to use my lucidity to avoid unpleasant situations. But I was not going to be content to passively avoid conflicts by doing nothing. I made a firm resolution regarding my lucid dreaming behavior. Anytime I became lucid I would ask myself two questions: First, have I been avoiding or running away from anything in the dream? And second, was there any conflict in the dream? If the answer to either question was yes, then I would face whatever I had been avoiding and resolve any conflict. I have remembered this principle in almost every subsequent lucid dream and have attempted to resolve conflicts and face my fears whenever it was called for.
Escaping from a nightmare by awakening only suppresses your conscious awareness of the anxiety-provoking imagery. You may feel a certain relief, but like the prisoner who digs through his prison wall and finds himself in the cell next door, you have not really escaped. Moreover, aware of it or not, you are left with an unresolved conflict that will doubtless come back to haunt you some other night. In addition, you may have an unpleasant and unhealthy emotional state with which to start your day.
If, on the other hand, you choose to stay in the nightmare rather than waking from it, you can resolve the conflict in a way that brings you increased self-confidence and improved mental health. Then, when you wake up, you will feel that you have freed some extra energy with which to begin your day with new confidence.
Tholey, who has researched the effectiveness of various attitudes toward hostile dream characters, concludes that a conciliatory approach is most likely to result in a positive outcome. his conciliatory method is based on the practice of engaging in dialogues with dream characters (see exercise “dialoguing with dream Characters” on the following page). he found that when dreamers tried to reconcile with hostile figures, the figures often transformed from “lower order into higher order creatures,” meaning from beasts or mythological beings into humans, and that these transformations “often allowed the subjects to immediately understand the meaning of the dream.” Furthermore, conciliatory behavior toward threatening figures would generally cause them to look and act in a friendlier manner. For example, Tholey himself dreamed:
I became lucid, while being chased by a tiger, and wanted to flee. I then pulled myself back together, stood my ground, and asked, “Who are you?” The tiger was taken aback but transformed into my father and answered, “I am your father and will now tell you what you are to do!” In contrast to my earlier dreams, I did not attempt to beat him but tried to get involved in a dialogue with him. I told him that he could not order me around. I rejected his threats and insults. On the other hand, I had to admit that some of my father’s criticism was justified, and I decided to change my behavior accordingly. At that moment my father became friendly, and we shook hands. I asked him if he could help me, and he encouraged me to go my own way alone. My father then seemed to slip into my own body, and I remained alone in the dream.[16]
To encourage a good dialogue, it is best to treat dream figures as equals. Questions like the following, posed in a non-threatening tone, may open up fruitful lines of dialogue: Who are you? Who am I? Why are you here? Why are you acting the way you are? What do you have to tell me? What do I most need to know? Can you help me? Can I help you?
EXERCISING DIALOGUING WITH DREAM CHARACTERS
Practice imaginary dialogues in the waking state. Choose a recent dream in which you had an unpleasant encounter with a dream figure. Get a piece of paper and pen to write down the conversation you imagine. Envision yourself talking to the dream character; visualize the character before you. Begin a dialogue by asking questions. You may choose a question from the list above or substitute any personally relevant question. Write down your questions and the responses you get from the character. Try not to let critical thoughts interrupt the flow, such as “This is silly,” or “I’m just making this up,” or “That’s not true.” Listen and interact. You can evaluate later. Terminate the dialogue when it runs out of energy or when you achieve a useful resolution. Then evaluate the conversation and ask yourself what you did right and what you would do differently next time. Once you are successful with this, try the same exercise on another dream.
Set your intention. Set a goal for yourself that the next time you have a disturbing encounter with a dream character you will become lucid and engage the character in dialogue.
Dialogue with problem dream figures. When you encounter anyone with whom you feel conflict, ask yourself whether or not you are dreaming. If you find that you are dreaming, continue as follows: Stay and face the character, and begin a dialogue with one of the opening questions from the list above. Listen to the character’s responses, and try to address his, her, or its problems as well as your own. See if you can come to an agreement or make friends. Continue the dialogue until you reach a comfortable resolution. Then, be sure to awaken while you still remember the conversation clearly, and write it down.
Evaluate the dia
logue. Ask yourself if you achieved the best result you could. Think about how you could improve your results. You could use Step 1 to relive the dialogue to attain a more satisfying result.
In contrast to the positive results of conciliatory dialogue, Tholey found that when dreamers attacked dream characters either verbally or physically, the dream figures often regressed in form, for instance from a mother to a witch, then to a beast. We might assume that the other characters in our dream worlds are more helpful as friendly humans than as subdued animals, so the aggressive approach may not be the best choice most of the time.
I say most of the time because in some instances it may not be advisable to open yourself to a dream attacker. In the case of dreams that replay real life events in which one was abused by someone—a rapist or child molester, for example—a more satisfying resolution may result from overcoming, disarming, and transforming the dream attacker. However, in many instances, Tholey’s research has shown that aggressive attacks on dream characters can result in feelings of anxiety or guilt, and the subsequent emergence of dream “avengers.” So I would advise avoiding such behavior unless it truly seems the best option.