Lucid Dream
After a couple of F21 sessions, I set my intent to have a lucid dream with the underlying purpose of learning something new. This time, I didn’t struggle to fall asleep as I usually do. I employed the F10 count-up method and skipped my usual mantra, allowing me to fall asleep quickly and deeply.
What’s notable is that I was particularly attentive to the transition between wakefulness and sleep this time. As I felt myself sinking deeper, I observed that the typical phosphene activity gradually became more chaotic—soft, organic shapes morphed into sharper edges, punctuated by bright flashes of white light, until suddenly I was out.
The dream itself was exceptionally ordinary, set right in my own office where I meditate and practice lucid dreaming. I “woke up” from a nap, rolled over, and soon Kim came into the room to lay down beside me for a bit. Everything was completely normal; we chatted briefly—though I can’t recall exactly about what—and eventually, I heard the kids causing a ruckus in the living room. At that point, I decided it was time to get up and continue with my day.
However, the moment I stood up, I began sinking through the floor. Bam—lucidity hit me. Kim asked, “What’s wrong?” and I calmly responded, “Nothing, this is normal; this is what happens when I realize this is a simulation—a dream.” She casually replied, “Oh, that’s right,” and we both laughed.
Focusing intensely on the sinking sensation, I watched as my vision gradually faded to black, accompanied by disorientation and a spinning sensation. Despite the intensity, I maintained unwavering focus through the experience, something I’ve encountered before and find meaningful each time. This particular experience allowed me to witness my office reconstructing itself block by block, swirling vividly back into place in front of me. Lying on my left side, I observed this fascinating “reality reconstruction” until everything faded once again into darkness—reminding me gently that I was indeed wearing a sleep mask.
Slowly, I lifted the mask, revealing my office exactly as I’d just seen it assemble moments earlier.