In the lucid dreaming community, there’s a lot of emphasis on how to lengthen lucid dreams and prevent awakening. There is nothing wrong with this. The skill of holding your attention span and riding the turbulent sea of REM takes time to develop, and waking practices hold the key to developing this capacity. However, longer lucid dreams are not necessarily better dreams, or automatic achievements. To think so would be to deny the neuromythological structure of the dreaming mind.

Let me break that down:

From a neurological standpoint, many lucid dreams occur in the first place due to cortical arousal, when the brain is already transitioning into waking awareness.

From a mythological standpoint, we could say that lucid dreams reach a conclusion because the dream has achieved its own end–on its own timetable–regardless of what you want to happen next.

Neuromythology, therefore, emphasizes the inherent storytelling framework of the dream, rooted not only in our expectations and desires, but also the emotional, linguistic and visionary structures of the lucidly dreaming brain.

4 examples of short but “successful” lucid dreams include:

•    The dream image transforming into a previously unknown or unexpressed emotion, leading to awakening with that emotion still in the air.
•    A realization, a provocative statement by a dream figure, or a new understanding that leads to arousal.
•    A powerful image that demands attention, often nightmarish and scary. These are important because they may carry some information that the waking self usually represses.
•    Spontaneous orgasm, transcendent bliss and feelings of oneness. ‘Nuf said.

In all of the above cases, trying to remain in the dream may be missing the point, and perhaps an opportunity.

After all, dreams bring new information and emotional truths into awareness. Waking from the dream is a metaphorical gift of bridging the gap, as the information has crossed the boundary into the waking world.

My longest lucid dreams (somewhere in the 30-40 minute range) have not proven to be the most impactful… or the most memorable. In fact, some of my most powerful lucid dreams probably lasted less than two minutes after I became self-aware.

Here’s an example of a lucid dream that was short-lived but involved a powerful realization:

I’m in a version of my apartment. Some objects are out of place—I notice the microwave in the living room and realize I’m dreaming. I call to my younger brother, “Hey, this is a dream!” He comes down the steps and looks excited. He looks strong, and there are light etchings like tattoos all over his face that look like rock art spirals. I tell him, “This is my dream but you are still real—you have your own consciousness, I get that now.” He smiles broadly and his eyes flash with intelligence. I am emotional, full of love, respect and trust. He feels like he’s my older brother. I wake up, my heart full of hope. (3/30/11).

In this dream, I realize the profound respect I have for my younger brother, and how he sometimes carries my strength and resilience. He reveals himself as a warrior; the etchings on his face I interpret as symbol of our shared lineage in Ireland and Scotland. It is one of a long series of lucid dreams that has opened up a portal to my own indigenous roots and allowed the strength of my ancestors to spill into this world.

That’s my myth anyways…

So honor these short and sweet dreams by writing them down before you go back to sleep. You will forget them!

And even better, waking is the perfect time to reset an intention and go back into the dream, letting the storytelling process continue with a new chapter.

The essay is adapted from my mastermind guide the Lucid Immersion Blueprint.

First Image: CC 2010 In this Fairytale World by JerryCharlotte

It’s easy to be nonchalant about how nobody gets enough sleep these days, but the impact on our children is real. Most kids in the US and UK are overtired, and most teens are in a state of constant sleep deprivation. In fact, Generation Z (currently ages 14-19) are the least likely of all people to get an adequate amount of rest. Don’t blame the economy, the stress of school, or helicopter parenting. The real culprit may be the device you’re reading this article on.

Okay, that was a bit polemic, I admit.

Often, the poison points towards the cure. According to my Google analytics, almost 1 in 3 of my readers access this blog with a mobile device. Ironically many of the blog’s topics include strategies for getting better rest, and this information is being delivered by the very technology that steals our sleep.

This article is not about judging (after all, it’s 2:30 am and here I am blogging away), but about finding the right balance for technology in our private lives.

For the sake of argument, below are some choice statistics about kids, sleep and connectivity (computers, phones, TV and tablets).

Some caveats: many of these statistics come from small studies, which means we need even more studies to replicate the findings and apply the trends to larger population groups. Also, remember that studies show correlations…not necessarily causation.

Even still, a disturbing trend is revealed: today’s children are being socially entrained to continuously devalue the need to rest, just like we do, in part due to the new, always-on, digital lifestyle.

Kids and Bedroom Connectivity

• 43% of school-aged children have a TV or computer in the bedroom¹ 
• On average children go to bed 30 minutes later when a TV or computer is in the bedroom¹
• Children with a TV/computer in their bedroom also watch one hour more of media a day²
• 60% of adolescents and teens use mobile devices after “lights out”³
• 18% of teens between ages of 13-18 are awoken by cellphone calls, emails and texts several times a week.⁴
• 77% of teens between ages 13-18 are using computer the hour before trying to go to sleep.⁴

What is the result of this saturation of media and hyper-connectivity?

You may be tempted to think that looking at a computer and texting your friends before bed (and during the middle of the night) is simply this generation’s version of the flashlight and the comic book.

I think it’s worse. In fact, scientists have a new term for the effects of digital media on our sleep/wake patterns: “junk sleep,” or continuously disrupted sleep.⁵

In short, constant connectivity damages our sleep health and affects kids’ academic performance, emotional well-being and possibly their physical maturation.

Effects of Being Wired 24/7 on Kids’ Sleep Health

• Teens require 9-10 hours sleep a night on average, but get 7.5-8 hours.⁶
• 61% of teens between 13-18 are getting less than 8 hours sleep a night⁴
• Teens and adolescents who use their mobile device several times a week are 5X as likely to be very tired during the day⁴
• Use of mobile devices after lights out related to many sleep problems, including: short sleep duration, subjective poor sleep quality, excessive daytime sleepiness, and insomnia symptoms⁷
• Playing exciting video games before bed also reduces sleepiness and amount of REM sleep⁸
• Sleep deficiency in children and teens increases the risk of obesity and diabetes. ^{9, 10}
• Sleep deficiency may impair healthy growth¹¹

Okay that’s the bad news.

I’m the type that gets fired up by doom and gloom. For me, it’s a swift kick to keep building the way I want to live, and safeguard the values I want to pass on to the next generations.

It’s an uphill battle because society shuns sleep. Maybe we can’t convince schools to start later –at least not most of them, and not yet– but we can draw stronger boundaries with electronics through our own action. 

Meanwhile around the world, the much anticipated video game Diablo III is launching, guaranteeing no teen will sleep for the next month.

So what can we do?

How to balance the amazing advantages of the digital lifestyle with the need for sanctity and a time to turn it all off and get some rest?

In that spirit — not of limitation but of balance — here’s some ideas for cleaning up the junk sleep, one home at a time.

5 Ways to Improve your children’s sleep (and yours too).

1. New Household rule involving no mobile use one hour before bed. This is the first step in creating your bedroom sanctuary, a topic I discuss at length in my ebook Enhance your dream life.

2. Establish a charging station for mobile devices in a public area, shifting electronics away from the bedrooms.

3. Even better: Move the TV and computers out of the bedroom – make it media free-zone except for special occasions

4. If necessary, consider collecting cellphones each night. More effective for the younger set. For teens, that may be too punitive. Save for special restrictions!

5. Clean up your own digital life and live by example. That’s what we absorb from our families: not what we say, but what we do.

Do you have any other ideas? What has worked for you in keeping the digital demons at bay in your home? Please leave a comment!

Online Resources

Sleep For Kids

Kids Health.org

National Sleep Foundation

References

1. National Sleep Foundation: Kids sleep less with TV or computer in their bedroom

2. Reuters: Children with TVs in their rooms sleep less: study

3. Van den Bulck, J. (2007). Adolescent Use of Mobile Phones for Calling and for Sending Text Messages After Lights Out: Results from a Prospective Cohort Study with a One-Year Follow-Up. Sleep. September 1; 30(9): 1220–1223.

4. National Sleep Foundation. Sleep in America Poll, 2011.

5. BBC: Junk sleep damaging teen health

6. National Sleep Foundation: Teens and Sleep

7. Munezawa T, Kaneita Y, Osaki Y, Kanda H, Minowa M, Suzuki K, Higuchi S, Mori J, Yamamoto R, Ohida T. (2011). The association between use of mobile phones after lights out and sleep disturbances among Japanese adolescents: a nationwide cross-sectional survey. Sleep  Aug 1;34(8):1013-20.

8. Higuchi S, Motohashi Y, Liu Y, Maeda A. (2005). Effects of playing a computer game using a bright display on presleep physiological variables, sleep latency, slow wave sleep and REM sleep. Journal of sleep research, 14(3):267-73.

9. National Institutes of Health: What are sleep deprivation and deficiency?

10. Kristen L. Knutson,  Karine Spiegel,  Plamen Penev, and Eve Van Cauter (2007). The Metabolic Consequences of Sleep Deprivation. Sleep Medicine Review. 2007 June; 11(3): 163–178.

11. J R Davidson, H Moldofsky, and FA Lue (1991). Growth hormone and cortisol secretion in relation to sleep and wakefulness. Journal of Psychiatry Neuroscience. July; 16(2): 96–102.

First image (CC): Sleeping preschooler by sdminor81

Dreams and divination exist in the same realm. There are elements of synchronicity, surprise, and mystery to both. They go together like apples and cinnamon.

And in many cultures dreams are the divination tools.

Many Native American and other indigenous cultures make it a priority to share dreams every morning not just with the people sharing their bed or their home, but the entire community. Often these dreams tell the tribe about upcoming events or predict the success of hunting trips.

Beyond dreams, a plethora of divination tools exist. Bones, shells, sticks, and rocks are common. Some use copper rods or a Y or L-shaped tree branch, while others rely on pendulums, crystal balls, or scrying mirrors. Some cultures created written systems including the Runes, the I Ching, and tarot cards.

And let’s not forget tea leaves.

Dreams + Divination

All of these methods tap into the collective unconscious, the universal mystery that surrounds us all. And I knew there had to be some way to combine them.

Recently, during a spirited conversation with my DreamTribe colleague Amy, I figured out how. I mentioned to her that for years I’ve kicked around the idea of creating some kind of card deck.

All at once it hit us: I could put together a deck that paired dreams with a divination tool.

And so, the Dream Divination Deck was born.

No two dream images are the same, and personal symbols change throughout life

How does the Dream Divination Deck work?

The Deck combines 24 of my original photographs depicting common dream themes like woman, dog, house, and car and a symbol guide that serves as a general guideline for interpreting the symbols.

Since I believe that it is only the dreamer who truly knows what a dream symbol means to him or her, I’ve given basic and universal words and themes associated with each symbol and I encourage the user to develop her own connection with the symbols.

For instance, I’ve listed words like feminine, mysterious, magical, and intuitive for the cat symbol.

However, you might associate cats with allergies, scratches, tomcats, smelly litter boxes, whiskers, and fur.

It all depends on your worldview.

And your associations with symbols might change over your lifetime.  Ten years ago the word spider would bring up the words terrifying, disgusting, icky, anxiety-producing, and fear, but now I see them as wise protectors who radiate gentle grandmother energy.

Overcoming a phobia can drastically transform your relationship with a dream character.

The dream deck is meant to evolve and change as you do. I encourage users to add their own photographs and dream symbols to the deck. Making it personal will increase its potency.

My First Dream Divination

My first spread with the deck produced interesting results. I pulled path, road, and shadow in response to asking what the next steps should be for my business.

I interpreted the spread like this:

I’ve got an inviting path ahead of me that’s all my own and it’s leading me forward. At some point, the path will become a road, opening up wider and leaving me more exposed and with less idea of where I’m going (in the picture, the road curves sharply to the right and disappears). And then, the shadow will appear, and I’ll need to embrace the unknown and face some inner demons that are holding me back.

Dream Divination Deck = Fun

I’ve gotten a fantastic response to the deck from people who’ve downloaded it.

One user said that although she usually has trouble understanding her dreams, the deck helped her, because now the process is fun. She could engage with the symbols in a new way that pulled her out of her mind and into something more embodied.

Another said she enjoyed finding new combinations of dream characters and symbols she hadn’t thought of before, like earth children and fire woman. Putting the symbols together created a whole new character she could explore.

So how do you get your hands on a Dream Divination Deck?

Simple. Just visit katrinadreamer.com and look to the right-hand side of the page. You’ll see the sign-up form for the free deck. Fill it out and the dream deck will fly into your hands on the wings of a pegasus. (Okay, there’s not really a pegasus. But you can imagine one if it makes you happy.)

Soon you’ll be on your way into the world of dream divination!

About the Author

Katrina Dreamer is a spiritual healer, published author, public speaker, and teacher who helps women trust their innate wisdom so they can live in full bloom. Katrina is a member of the Dream Tribe and also the International Association for the Study of Dreams. Her website is KatrinaDreamer.com

This book is may be heavy, but it’s really approachable for an academic text.

That’s an accomplishment for a book that essentially takes on the weighty task of summing up the topic of dreams in cross-culture perspective, including the evolutionary impact of the dreaming mind on our species, history, religion and art. Laughlin does this remarkably well, and he tells some great personal stories along the way.

There’s really only a few people in the world who have the personal experience and the scholarly prowess to single-handedly write an anthropology of dreams. In fact, no one has attempted this feat in a generation or longer.

Personal and Academic

Chogye Trichen Rinpoche (1920–2007)

Laughlin, a professor emeritus at Carleton University in Ottawa, Canada, has decades of fieldwork experience with dreaming cultures, including locales such as Nepal and Uganda, and, on his home continent, he is an expert in Navajo shamanism.

His interest in dreaming grew over the years as he also worked intensely with several dream yoga systems, including Tibetan Buddhism under the direction of Chogye Trichen Rinpoche. So for Laughlin, dreaming is no academic matter, but a personal avenue for growth and exploration into the deep structures of the mind.

This personal perspective is woven into all chapters of Communing with the Gods (published by Daily Grail Press), and it serves to bring the intense ideas and sophisticated discussions back to earth. This method of storytelling is not only fascinating, but it actually exposes one of the book’s core concepts: that dreaming is an experience of the conscious mind, first, and a cultural construct second.

To say it another way, dreaming is living. And when we discuss our dreams, it’s critical to give this primary respect to our gritty, personal, embodied moments of life that happen to take place in the dreaming state of consciousness.

From this grounded approach, Laughlin gives a history of dreams in anthropology, and then spends the bulk of the book reviewing the current anthropological theories of dreams as they intersect with actual dreamers in actual cultures.

Integrating the science of dreaming

As many have noted before, there is no current “big theory” in the anthropology of dreaming; researchers tend to follow their own interests and illuminate only part of the mystery and the promise of dreaming. Laughlin’s wide knowledge base really comes in handy at this junction, as he is able to respect many lines of inquiry into dreaming, without prizing one over another.

In this way, the overarching psychological truths of Carl Jung are on par with the very personal work with lucid dreamer George Gillespie, and the neurological work of sleep scientists is contextualized with the findings of ethnographers.

This alone is very helpful… but Laughlin goes further, as he presents this information in a way that builds his central argument, which is the presentation of his own theory of dreaming, which he calls the neuroanthropological theory of dreaming.

 The Neuroanthropological theory of Dreaming

Laughlin trained as a neuroscientist, and then became an adept ethnographer. These two strands of knowledge combine with his embodied experience to form his theory of how dreaming is processed in the brain and how the experience of dreaming is applied across cultures.

Laughlin seems to be a pragmatist at heart

In Laughlin’s view, and I wholeheartedly agree, no theory of dreaming that doesn’t include the mechanisms of the brain AND the evolution of the human animal AND the weird and wonderful application of dreaming as a social medium AND the full spectrum of self-awareness in dreams can be complete.

His approach is pragmatic, and draws heavily from evolutionary biology. Avoiding the morass of defining consciousness as a linguistic construct, Laughlin still points out that dream sharing is as much a result of language as it is the ability to remember our interior experiences in the first place (thank you higher brain). They probably came together, reinforcing the value of the dreaming mind due to its apparent knack for predicting the future, problem-solving, and exposing social tensions.

This biological grounding is why people have similar dreams throughout history and across cultures too. Laughlin says,

Visits with deceased ancestors, flying and OBEs, mandala-like geometric forms, shape-shifting beings, journeys to spiritual places, violent struggles, snakes and other totemic animals, witches, ghosts, spirits that cause and heal sickness, encounters with teachers or gurus, anima and animus figures, marriage, death, and so forth inhabit the dreaming of peoples all over the planet. Yet in every case, the motif will tend to be colored by cultural conditioning. Who is marrying whom…the place to which one is flying…what nastiness the witch is bent on doing… all these things vary depending upon the conditioning and information available in the culture.” (p. 461).

The development of lucid dreaming

This should come with no surprise if you read my blog regularly, but what I love about Laughlin’s book is his inclusion of the full spectrum of dreaming, including the relatively rare ability to lucid dream, or dream with self-awareness.

He really puts it perspective: some cultures invest in the ability to lucid dream, and some don’t. Those that do have a system of beliefs that allows them to train their minds to think clearly and with intentionality in the dreamspace. The mind training is about learning rituals that involve the prefrontal cortex (PFC) in dreams.

In those that don’t (such as most of Western culture), dreams tend to be viewed as random, meaningless events that happen to us.

Laughlin takes our culture to task here: “In a sense, the ‘normal’ dreaming we Westerners take for granted is actually quite primitive compared to lucid dreaming. I mean this literally—dreaming bereft of PFC mediation is a kind of throwback to the dreaming of hominins prior to the evolution of language.” (p. 461).

The application of lucid dreaming across cultures, of course, is largely shamanistic. Dream shaman are those who can direct their awareness in the dream state, fly to destinations to retrieve information, direct healing as well as sorcery, and transform the dreambody into animal and plant forms.

That doesn’t mean every lucid dreamer is a shaman, of course, a point I’ve made before.

But this historic and cross-cultural lens reveals that lucid dreamers are often swimming in shamanic waters without a clue of the power of the dreaming mind.

In conclusion

Communing with the gods is pretty dense, so it’s probably not the most appropriate text for dream beginners or those unfamiliar with some academic language. But if you are interested in the anthropology of dreaming, this belongs on your book shelf.  Laughlin has done a great service to the field of dream studies. In my mind, it’s an instant classic, the distillation of decades of careful scholarship and intensely personal experiences.

Video is below.

Some topics that came up include:

• How to break out of Cognitive Domestication

• Foundational practices for greater lucidity

• How positive mental habits become permanent traits over time

• The importance of playfulness for lucid dreaming induction (and why most people are working too hard)

• And what to do if you’re having TOO MANY lucid dreams.

Give it a whirl!  We used Skype to record it, so the video is a little jumpy in some places.

And here’s where to find out more about Lucid Immersion Blueprint.

One night in a dream, a tall and attractive man appeared outside my house wearing a naval officer’s uniform. I distinctly remember his blue jacket and white cap. He was a stranger, and yet I felt I could trust him. I let him in and he stayed to talk to me for a long time. Although I couldn’t remember our conversation, later that night I suddenly found myself practicing this technique:

I go back to sleep mindfully with the intent to have a lucid dream. I visualize a surfer picking up her board and then walking into the ocean holding it against her. She (I) walks through the surf—breathing in… the tide receding… breathing out… the tide flowing onto the shore.

Now mentally immersed in the scene, I see the surfer spreading herself across the board and paddling out toward the open sea, the motion of her arms the rhythm of my heartbeat. I equate the bed my body is resting on with the water beneath the board becoming ever deeper and softer.

Then, where the two opposing currents meet—waves flowing toward the shore and the waking world vs. the irresistible undertow pulling my thoughts into the dark depths of sleep—the surfer spreads herself across the board of her intent and observes the hypnagogic waves, frothing with images, waiting for the one she senses might be consciously surfed into a lucid dream.

Remaining mentally awake long enough to ride the hypnagogic waves dramatically increases the odds that once I fall asleep, I’ll be able to raise my head above a dream’s subconscious currents and declare — I’m dreaming!

The Surfer Technique is so much easier, and so much more fun, for me to practice on a nightly basis than concentrating on my breathing while focusing on successive parts of my body in an effort to relax. I totally lose patience with that, whereas I always enjoy deepening the surfer visualization by adding more sensual details—the temperature of the water, the feel of the ocean spray on my face, and so on.

The more real I make the experience, the more effective the technique seems to be.

The eye mask provides comfort against waking up too soon.

I also sometimes wear a sleep mask after four-o’clock in the morning, when lucid dreams are more likely to happen. I found this particular mask on amazon: the Clark Comfort Eye Mask–  it is quite comfortable; I have no problem falling asleep with it on as its gentle pressure helps focus my intent.

Wearing a sleep mask eliminates the concern my eyes will open—the board tipping over—and abruptly return me to the waking world.

Once awake in a dream, physical sensations help anchor my lucidity. I quickly touch different parts of my body, stripping off pieces of clothing if necessary, and plant my bare feet on the floor. I employ the classic technique of periodically raising my hands in front of my face and either thinking or saying out loud I’m dreaming.

It also helps me sustain lucidity when I keep looking around me instead of focusing for too long on one object, person or activity. Even when engaged in a conversation, every now and then I’m careful to look away from the dream character’s face.

Like a whale coming up for air, my Inner Self has the power to regularly rise up from the dark depths of sleep and take in the joyfully clear, life enhancing atmosphere of a lucid dream.

Author Bio

Maria Isabel Pita has traveled extensively and authored critically acclaimed paranormal, contemporary and historical romances in addition to the historical epic Truth is the Soul of the Sun-A Biographical Novel of Hatshepsut-Maatkare and the best-selling Kindle Single A Concise Guide to Ancient Egypt’s Magic and Religion.

Her lucid dream-related articles have been published in the Lucid Dream Exchange and her site Ancient Omnivore.

First Image Credit: Surfer Girls by PinCheck

The 2012 conference for the International Association for the Study of Dreams is June 22-26, 2012 in Berkeley, CA. If you are ready to connect with a dynamic dream research community, here’s your chance. Keynotes this year includes cognitive scientist Tracey Kahan, psychologist Patricia Garfield, and Fred Alan Wolf, aka Dr. Quantum.  Oh, and there’s over 160 other cutting-edge presentations and workshops as well.

I’m presenting two papers this year.

First, I’m chairing a symposium titled Lucid dreaming: Transpersonal Approaches. My paper is “Lucid Immersion: establishing a lucid sanctuary in everyday life.” Drawn from my recent project Lucid Immersion Blueprint, this paper is about how setting up a secure container is important for all lucid dreamers, but especially for those applying dreamwork as a spiritual life practice.

The second paper I’m presenting, part of a symposium on dream technology, is titled “The Quantified Dreamer.”  I’ll be reviewing the Zeo Sleep Manager, a home sleep-tracking device. Topics include Zeo’s scientific validity and limitations compared to in-lab EEG, as well as my personal experience using Zeo to test dream supplements, hunt out-of-body experiences and track other weird sleep phenomena.

So, besides the fact that I’ll be there, rocking out in my usual way, there’s pretty much something for every dream-enthusiast at the IASD’s annual conference:

• get CE credits if you’re currently in a US-based counseling program, as the IASD is a member of the American Psychological Association. 

• catch up on the latest clinical, anthropological and cognitive studies on dreams.

• attend tracks on dreamwork, lucid dreaming and psi, arts and humanities, and dream education.

Me and founding IASD member Rita Dwyer at the 2009 IASD conference in Chicago. Photo by Bhaskar Banerji

•  join one of the dozens of workshops that take you to the edge of the known dreamworld.

Still on the fence? On the last night, we all dress up as our favorite dream figures and dance like wild feral creatures.

What happens in the DreamBall stays in the DreamBall.

Learn more about the conference here. By the way, new members of the IASD get a break on the conference registration.

It sounds sensational, but Lucy Liu’s account is actually very much in line with the experience of millions of contemporary dreamers.

Lucy Liu’s amorous ghost is probably a subset of the incubus encounter, a nocturnal meeting with an otherworldly creature that sits on your chest or otherwise gets all up in your business while you lay in bed.

The entity can take the shape of known mythological figures, ghosts, demons, or weird human-animal hybrids.

Often, the encounter is fearful, and is described as supernatural assault.

But for others, it’s pleasurable, resulting in orgasm and bliss.

We live in a time that tries to ignore the visionary moments of life, yet the experiences keep happening anyways.

Oh Pan, you shouldn't have...

Science of the Incubus

Usually, the dreamer feels awake and aware, and may even have their eyes open when the encounter begins.

Known formally as REM intrusion into stage 1 sleep, the realistic vision is often called hypnagogic imagery or a hallucination.

Many people who feel these encounters also get the more unpleasant side of this mish-mash of consciousness: sleep paralysis, in which the paralyzing effect of REM intrusion into wakefulness results in terrifying waking nightmares.

The realistic encounter with non-human –or supernatural– entities has been recorded as early as Babylonian times. Some sexual imp traditions include the Sumerian sex demon Lilith, and the ancient Greek god Pan.

Although fearful, these encounters were sometimes interpreted as demonic possession. But not always.

For example, the Greek dream interpreter Artemidorus wrote that sexual Pan encounters “foretells a great profit,” especially if he “does not weigh a person down,” referring to the more common paralysis sensations.¹

The Eros of REM sleep

In modern populations, a significant minority have erotically charged hypnagogic experiences despite the lack of cultural prompting.

Those who are feel safe enough to “go with the flow” and not fight the ecstasy are sometimes rewarded with bliss.

Physiologically, this shouldn’t be too surprising, as REM sleep is a sexually active brain state. It’s quite common for both men and women to have multiple periods of genital engorgement during the night – usually these are not remembered.

So how does the positive incubus encounter take place, even when the dreamer does not have a previous understanding that these things are even possible?

Taboo is a big part of visionary consciousness, but  “cultural loading” is not the only, or possibly the stronger, influence. In my mind, the cross-cultural nature of sexual incubi points towards a neurobiological constant, an ancestral legacy.

It’s simply a natural part of being human.

Medical folklorist and anthropologist David Hufford suggests that not only are these extraordinary events “normal,” but “better knowledge of each [event] strengthens that belief rather than weakening it (e.g., learning that others have had virtually the same experience; information regarding possible physiological triggers is irrelevant to the assessment of the reality of the experience).²

Here is Lucy Liu’s full quotation from US Magazine:

“I was sleeping on my futon on the floor, and some sort of spirit came down from God knows where and made love to me. It was sheer bliss. I felt everything. I climaxed. And then he floated away. It was almost like what might have happened to Mary. That’s how it felt. Something came down and touched me, and now it watches over me.”

I find it fascinating that the line in bold above is edited out of most mentions of Lucy Liu’s account.

Her comparison to the experience of the Mary draws me back to the many women Christian mystics from centuries past, such as St Teresa of Avila.

Liu may be citing the Virgin Birth of Christ — wow there’s some taboo for you — or possibly the ecstasy of Mary Magdalene, which has also been captured with a decidedly sensual overtone by Peter Paul Rubens and other artists in the 17th century.

Long Term Effects of Visionary Experience

After her encounter, Lucy Liu reports that she feels she is being watched over. The encounter brings her a sense of trust in the unseen that she did not previously have.

This sort of long-lasting effect places positive incubus encounters in the same grouping as otherworldly visions such as near-death-experiences and angel visitations.

Interestingly enough, all three of these vision states may be correlated with REM intrusion states. When REM sleep blends with heightened frontal lobe activity, the imaginal richness of the dreamworld is enhanced with self-awareness and powerful drives for emotional significance.

In my mind, this neurobiological explanation does not in any way disprove or “debunk” the power of these visions for the individual. I’m a pragmatist and I feel there’s room enough for both science and spirit in this bed.

More importantly, David Hufford reminds us that NDEs, ancestral visitations and sleep paralysis can all result in positive emotional growth in the long run.

In clinical circles, disturbing events that result in long-term positive change are known as visionary spiritual experiences. Psychiatrist David Lukoff argues that these cases are not disordered mental breakdowns, but rather collapses that result in improved wellbeing and life-change.³  

As William James stated over a hundred years ago in his Varieties of religious experiences, “Know them by their fruits, not their roots.” In other words, no matter the material correlates, these visionary experiences can result in long lasting life-change, renewed trust in the world, and a happier life in general.

So have you ever had a pleasurable incubus or succubus encounter? 

Continue the discussion below. Intolerant comments will not be approved. If you prefer anonymity, I am also collecting accounts for my ongoing research. Contact me here.

Additional references

¹ Adler, S. (2011). Sleep paralysis: night-mares, nocebos, and the mind-body connection. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press. (p. 43)

² Hufford, D. (2010). Visionary spiritual experiences in an enchanted world, Anthropology and Humanism, 35(2): p. 155 (142-158)

³ Lukoff, D. (2007). Visionary spiritual experiences. Southern Medical Journal, 100(6), 635-641.

The good news is that your rate of success skyrockets when you know how to focus your motivation towards the tendancies and habits that frequent lucid dreamers do everyday.

Some of these come naturally —the way you sleep, or the way you are wired emotionally. Others are lifestyle habits that appear to push the buttons of the embodied mind for going lucid in a dream.

Below is the collective avatar—the personality traits and habits—of frequent lucid dreamers. I’m not saying all lucid dreamers have all these traits. (That would be kind of intense…)

But if you find yourself in just one or two of these traits below, you actually stand a really good chance for going lucid if you haven’t already. With further training, you could begin lucid dreaming with higher frequency too.

Without further adieu, 

you know you’re predestined to be a lucid dreamer if you:

Are a light sleeper.

Self-awareness is a delicate state associated with heightened cortical arousal during REM sleep. Light sleepers are especially wired for this. All hope is not lost if you are a heavy sleeper who usually collapses without any remembered awakenings, or if you rarely wake up from disturbances. Instead, you may want to consider biphasic sleeping and other sleep disturbance tactics.¹

Have time to sleep in.

Lucid dreams are more likely in the lengthy REM periods of the morning. If you are sleep deprived, and never have a chance to sleep in, it may be difficult to achieve the lucid zone. However, stealing away for an afternoon nap when your circadian rhythms naturally dip may be the second best time for lucidity.

Have good dream recall.

One of the advantages of being a light sleeper is that multiple awakenings lead to more remembered dreams. Regardless of how you sleep, without the skill of remembering dreams, there is no room for lucidity. Luckily, dream recall can also be improved—quickly too.² 

Have an ongoing mindfulness practice.

Developing lucidity in the dream world is impossible if you are not very “lucid” in waking life. That’s probably why meditators are also frequent lucid dreamers compared to the general population.³ Concentrative meditation strengthens the mind’s ability to stay focused for long periods of time and improves emotional intelligence. But if you are not into meditation, there are plenty of other hobbies you probably already enjoy that can focus the mind in similar ways.  

Have good spatial skills.

Strange, isn’t it? One crucial but often overlooked factor of self-awareness is maintaining centeredness during periods of dream flux: those times when your senses are confused and you don’t know up from down.  Lucid dreamers tend to have good balance and may be more field independent than non- lucid dreamers.⁴ This trait involves the degree to which you are influenced by inner or environmental cues in orienting yourself.  Having or starting an ongoing body practice—yoga or gymnastics for example—may increase your odds, and so may playing certain types of video games. 

Excel at multi-tasking.

Lucidity is a balance of knowing you are in a dream and being involved in the drama. Not surprisingly, frequent lucid dreamers perform well on cognitive tests like the Stroop Task, a psychological test that measures attention during interference of multiple tasks at the same time.⁵

Are creative and/or artistic.

Many lucid dreamers are creative people who tend to see outside the box. They are imaginative and prone to fantasy.⁶

Are sensitive.

There is also a correlation with spontaneous lucid dreamers and having thin boundaries, which is a psychological term for having high levels of social alertness, and sometimes, social anxiety.⁷ Self-awareness is a double-edged sword, as some frequent lucid dreamers are also prone to nightmares. If you have been told before, “You are too sensitive,” you may have the markings of a powerful lucid dreamer.

Are willing to take risks.

A 2011 study found that students who had more lucid dreams than their peers also performed better on the Iowa Gambling Task, a test that measures emotional-based decision making in unknown situations.⁸  This is an important clue about the importance of regulating emotions—and integrating them with other forms of cognition—for mastering lucid dreaming.  

Have a strong desire to stick with it.

Patience, in other words. We live in a culture of “instant success guaranteed!” But the truth is that most successful lucid dreamers have a strong, internal desire to become aware during their dreams. They don’t give up easily. They set intentions and keep trying.

Take mental breaks.

It’s also important to take a break now and again or you’ll just get frustrated, not lucid. Cognitive psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, author of Finding Flow, has much to say about the importance of idle time for all creative projects. Taking time off from a serious pursuit—be it an invention, a puzzle, or a quest to go lucid—allows “simple rules of association” to form.⁹ You got to know when to let your training seep in, and let the work go underground.

So do you find yourself somewhere in this collection of traits and habits? Chances are, you stand a pretty good chance of going lucid. Recent demographics suggest 1 in 2 people have had a lucid dream.¹⁰

It’s not actually that difficult to get started, provided you set strong intentions and follow through with effective practices for developing the embodied mind.

This essay is adapted from my ebook Lucid Immersion Guidebook, the central piece of the Lucid Immersion Blueprint.

First image: CC Dancing Statues by dixie_law

References

¹ LaBerge, S., Phillips, L, Levitan, L. (1994). An hour of wakefulness before morning naps makes lucidity more likely. NightLight, 6(3).

² Kahan, T. and LaBerge, S. (2011). Dreaming and waking: Similarities and differences revisited. Conscious and Cognition, 20, 494-514.

³ Gackenbach, J. (2010). Psychological considerations in pursuing lucid dreaming research. International Journal of Dream Research, 3 (1), 11-12.

⁴ Gruber, R.E., Steffen, J.J., & Vonderhaar, S.P. (1995). Lucid dreaming, waking personality, and cognitive development. Dreaming, 5 (1), 1-12.

⁵  Blagrove, M, Bell, E., Wilkerson, A. (2010). Association of lucid dreaming frequency with Stroop task performance. Dreaming, 20 (4), 280-287.

⁶ Schredl, M. and Erlacher, D. (2004). Lucid dreaming frequency and personality.  Personality and Individual Differences, 37, 1463-1473.

⁷ Galvin, F. (1990). The boundary characteristics of lucid dreamers. Psychiatric Journal of the University of Ottawa, 15, 73–78.

⁸ Neider, M., Pace-Scott, E., Forselius, E., Pittman, B., and Morgan, P. (2011). Lucid dreaming and ventromedial versus dorsolateral prefrontal task performance. Consciousness and Cognition, 20, 234–244.

⁹ Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1996). Creativity : Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention. New York: Harper Perennial.

¹⁰ Schredl M, and Erlacher D. (2011). Frequency of lucid dreaming in a representative German sample. Perceptual and Motor Skills. 112(1):104-8.

Awareness during sleep paralysis often includes the terrifying and realistic sensation of being held down while waking up or going to sleep. Sometimes, it’s accompanied by grotesque visions that seem to threaten our most prized possession: our sanity. But I have found for myself that sleep paralysis can lead to creative states of mind (such as lucid dreams and astral projection). And as it turns out, sleep paralysis makes great fodder for modern art too.

First, check out the work of South African fashion designer Elmé Bekker. Based in Cape Town, Elmé has suffered with sleep paralysis off and on her entire life.

Recently, rather than trying to wake up from the ghastly visitations, she’s taken to scrutinizing what her nightmare figures are wearing.

The piece to the right is directly inspired from a series of SP visitations by an evil white swan character that haunted Elmé after she saw the movie Black Swan. 

So that’s a creepy feedback loop starting with a film, inducing nightmares, and then inducing more art.

For more of Elme Bekker’s hypnagogically-inclined designs, see her 2011 collection from South Africa Fashion Week.

Then there’s this wild digital print by DeviantArtist ~unded.

Titled Kanashibari, this 2010 original digital art is one of the coolest –and creepiest– renditions of a ghost attack while in sleep paralysis.

Kanashibari, by the way, is the Japanese word for the nightmare that creeps upon you while you’re awake, presses you down, and seemingly threatens to steal your soul.

You can get full-sized prints of this piece (and ~unded’s other spooky mythological art) here.

Finally, I’m really excited about the London-based singer-songwriter Gabriel Bruce, whose deput 7″ single Sleep paralysis has been likened to works of Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits.

His gravely voice and penchant for darkness also reminds me of Michael Gira, lead singer for the American post-punk band Swans, whose song “Goddamn the sun” I’ll never forget thanks to the incessant listening by my friends in high school.

(What is it about creepy swans in this article?)

Bruce’s song “Sleep paralysis” is definitely haunted. But he also designed a 60 page Dada-inspired booklet on the horror and science of sleep paralysis that comes with his vinyl single.

So cool. And the song is good too.

Here’s the video (you can go to full screen once you hit play):

Gabriel Bruce – Sleep Paralysis from Off Modern on Vimeo.

Know any other recent artistic works inspired by sleep paralysis and hypnagogia? Shout them out below.