A couple of nights ago I was convinced that I didn’t sleep a wink all night. Most disconcerting.
But last night I watched carefully to see if I could find any evidence that I had slept. And in fact what I saw was that I could remember what looked like dreams to me and that, since I watched the clock carefully, I could discern short periods of time – five or six minutes each – in which I remembered the contents of those dreams – so I must have been asleep.
Five or six minutes may seem like a short dream, but I know from a vision experience I had in 1987 (1) that eight seconds in another dimension can be timeless.
When I looked at the contents of these “dreams,” it became pretty clear to me that I seemed to have entered different dimensions. I was dreaming actions that were not a feature of my everyday, recognizable life.
The most specific, recurring action was that I was travelling through space in a spacecraft.
But it wasn’t like driving a car or flying an airplane. I didn’t sit down in a driver’s seat, turn a key, rev an engine, look out a window, and steer a wheel.
The spacecraft responded to every sensation, every thought I had and I wasn’t quite “seated” in it. It was wrapped around me, in a manner of speaking.
The most compelling proof of the existence of these experiences was a real dream I had in the early hours of the morning, which backlit the other-dimensional experiences.
In the real dream, I had just entered a program of studies at a well-known university. My professor, whose name was “Pat,” had the stature of Denzel Washington in The Bone Collector, an expert in her field. Like Washington, she attempted to hook me into forensic investigation, by shocking me with her utterly unreal sense of dedication to her field.
Even though the course was not to begin until the following morning, she was asking me if I was already looking for clues. Why had I not seen a bone fragment in the other room? Why had I not sent it to forensics for analysis?
But whereas, with Angelina Jolie in the movie, the student was slowly reeled in by astonishment at this level of dedication, with me I was utterly repelled by what she was asking and resisted.
I realized that, even though the course was not to begin until the next day, I was already turned off the curriculum and, in fact, I knew somewhere inside of me that I had already chosen my curriculum and it wasn’t anything I was doing at that university.
It was something I did when I was asleep.
As difficult and embarrassing as it was, I left the program before it ever began.
By this process of backlighting, I saw that I entered another dimension when I was asleep and part of what I did was that I travelled by spaceship in another dimension.
One by one, several things became clear to me that demonstrated to me that I was not sleeping during those other-dimensional moments but living a parallel life. To say what those things were is too spooky because I still haven’t figured out their significance.
The lasting impression I took away from these experiences is that life is more than it appears to be. What I call sleeping and dreaming may turn out to be much more than that. I’ll have to see.
Now I have no idea if anything I’m saying here is true. I haven’t awoken to find myself lucid dreaming as I did in 1977 in the midst of an out-of-body experience.
But I do feel that I’m on the track of something and may awaken tonight or the next night and find myself in the midst of a great deal more than I seem to be at this moment. I have no idea what comes next – if anything.
Again mountains are not mountains at this time and rivers are not rivers. It’s an incredible time to be alive and promises to get better.
Postscript: I seem to be walking funny and discombobulated today so I may have to rest.
(1) Described in “Epilogue: Eight Seconds Out of Time,” at http://www.angelfire.com/space2/light11/epilog.html .