Intro to F21, Lucid Dream

Today was my non-working Friday, which meant a long morning run. I put 14 miles on my new running shoes at about a 9:40/mi pace, feeling very happy that I’m successfully maintaining my improved sub-10/mi pace over increasingly longer distances. Yes, if anyone is wondering, I did indeed pattern for this progress just under a month ago. Nevertheless, I didn’t feel too worn down afterward, so I decided to do a meditation session instead of simply taking an afternoon nap.

Intro to F21

I’m revisiting Wave 6 again, and for the life of me, I can’t stop falling asleep during these tapes. Interestingly, during my initial run-through, I had zero issues staying awake, but now, despite feeling like I’m making more progress, I’m frequently clicking out.

Given my extended run this morning, I turned on the red IR light panel for today’s meditation session. Everything started exceptionally well—the fastest entry into F10 I’ve had yet, quickly followed by F12. As I waited to be counted into F21, I struggled with random twitches in my legs, feet, and hands. These twitches have been quite persistent lately, likely due to accumulated stress (both physical and otherwise). In fact, shortly after entering F10, my left foot twitched, almost as if my brain was checking whether my body was asleep—which is exactly how I interpret that phenomenon.

Once I was counted into F21, I visualized the “bright white light of F21” and began moving through it. I definitely experienced a physiological response but didn’t notice much beyond that. While expressing my gratitude before exiting, I observed dark shapes appearing and disappearing within my visual field. They seemed more detailed than usual, almost backlit. It felt as if a veil in front of me became less opaque, though specifics remained difficult to discern. Unfortunately, I was already exiting at this point. Next session, I’ll attempt this unguided so I can extend my exploration.

Lucid Dream

With about 20 minutes remaining, I closed my eyes, set my intention to enter a lucid dream, and started counting repeatedly up to 10. This time, my perception shifted from black to white before fully entering the dream state—a novel experience for me.

The details of the dream remain murky. It was a “dirty” lucid dream, meaning I was aware of dreaming but was also extremely tired, which made maintaining focus challenging and led to fragmented memories. I found myself in an office—distinctly different from my actual home office—situated inside a high-rise apartment. Despite the differences, it still felt uniquely mine. I was inspecting items placed atop a long, built-in bookshelf. Shortly afterward, my vision faded into a complete whiteout, ending the dream.

What came next was especially peculiar—a recurring theme in my recent lucid dreams, wherein a message or symbolic example emerges in an unusual manner during my transition from dream to wakefulness. As the intense white field gradually faded into darkness upon waking, I distinctly heard a folk song I’d never encountered before yet somehow felt profoundly familiar. Sung by a female voice, the lyrics were in an unrecognizable language but clearly conveyed coherent words. Stylistically, the song resembled old Russian folk music I hadn’t listened to since around age 16, yet it wasn’t an exact match. It was undeniably a folk tune sung in a language unknown to me.

This mysterious song persisted for roughly a minute, fading slowly as I fully returned to wakefulness. Even three hours later, I can vividly recall its melody. Let’s see if the tune remains clear in my memory 48 hours from now.