——Life is A Dream Photo Contest——
Dreams are hard to describe. It was like…there were giant alligators and…but an image says a lot…
To win a free copy of our book, send us a dreamy photo or image in a personal message to our Facebook page. This image must be personally created by YOU, and it should describe a nightly dream that you’ve had OR depicts a surreal experience going on in the waking world. Message us your photo by December 17th, 2013 to qualify.
After we post all of the contestants’ photos on Dec. 17th, people will vote on your photo by ‘liking’ it on Facebook. This is your chance to spread the word and recruit all of your friends and family out to vote. After two weeks, the top three contestants will each win the prize.
The top three winners each get a copy of our book A Field Guide to Lucid Dreaming, signed by us, the authors. Anyone anywhere may join the contest. Three chances to win and it’s free to enter!
Get creative! Dreams are amazing experiences, who are we to tell you what to imagine or how to do it. Paint a painting, collage a collage, knit and knitting. It just has to be 100% your work and made for the contest.
Go here for the full list of rules:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LmSpC5cfIW9V6arRdeLWypwtGRBD2TGHfgQC5564aNs/edit?usp=sharing
A great video narrated by an amazing man. Check out the “Are you Dreaming” Facebook page for more cool stuff….
Q:Although I've had some success using the techniques in your book (including a succesful WILD), I can't do WBTB or WILD very often because it disturbs my partner and/or he disturbs me while I'm trying to fall asleep. Any advice for practicing lucid dreaming when you share a bed?
That is a tricky scenario. While learning how to lucid dream isn’t terribly difficult, it does cause the occasional of disturbance to a fellow sleeper in the same bed.
-The best thing (and perhaps most interesting) would be to convince them to join you on your lucid dreaming adventures. That way you can practice various techniques and sync up a WBTB with them. You can also share dreams in the morning with them.
-Now, if they’re not curious about exploring the dream world the same way you are, you could try sleeping the first 6 hours in bed with them and then move to another spot (guest bedroom, sofa, blow up mattress) to fall asleep after the WBTB.
-Are you a napper? If so, you can actually have a WILD, while taking a nap. This is usually best if you’re planning on taking a 30+ min nap.
-If it’s the alarm that’s waking your partner up, perhaps you can use your phone as your alarm clock, but just set it to vibrate. Then you can put the phone underneath your pillow and hopefully it will only wake up you and not your partner.
-If it’s more the movement that wakes them up, you might have to perform your WBTBs without moving. This can be a bit tricky, because we’re often so tired after waking up, that we pass out quickly if we don’t sit up. If you do try this method, you’ll have to exhibit some mental focus so that you don’t fall back to sleep. To help, try gently pressing your pointer finger nail into your thumb. Not to the point where it hurts, but just enough sensation to keep you awake, while you mentally prepare yourself for the WILD.
Good luck! If you figure out any other ways, please let us know. This is a common problem with lucid dreamers, who share a bed with someone else.
Q:Ok so I've been remembering a couple dreams the past couple nights and they have all had the same person in them. I haven't written them down, which I know I should, but I can still remember them pretty well. She is an ex-girlfriend of mine and I have recently started talking to her again about 3 weeks ago. I was wondering what these dreams could possible mean?
Hi Jakehonolulu. While we’d love to help out, we’ve found that it’s the dreamer who’s best at interpreting his or her own dream. Each symbol means something specific to the specific dreamer. An apple to me is not an apple to you. One of the fine things about this world is that we all have our own view of it, and our own associations with the items and people within it. So find a quiet space, ask yourself these questions, and really trust that deep voice that talks back. Or become lucid within the dream and ask your ex face to face: “What is it that you symbolize? What do you have to tell me?” Her answer will probably clear up any confusion.
Q:How long will it take me to learn to lucid dream? I'm 15 years old, and recently picked up your book on lucid dreaming. I loved it, read it cover to cover, but could not find anything about time. I'd really love to have this ability, but I wouldn't want to practice for 3 years!
Fear not! We get this question a lot, and it’s an understandable worry. What we tell people is that lucid dreaming is like any hobby or skill. It takes some time and discipline to start off, but to achieve a lucid dream and reach a beginner level I’d guess it wouldn’t take you more than 1-3 months. For some people, the process is even quicker: we tell them about the ability and a few tips and the very next morning they report their first lucid dream, after just hearing about it. But everyone is different, so don’t get discouraged if it takes a few months. Above all, be passionate, playful, and consistent with your techniques. And good luck!
Dream Submission from Katie
An amazing lucid dream from Katie. Thanks for sharing this wonderful experience. You packed a wonderful things into this dream (reality checks, stabilization techniques, conversations with dream characters, overcoming nightmarish elements). It also seems like there were some great lessons learned from this dream.
I’m lying on the couch (where I’m taking a nap). I had intended to have a lucid dream, so I think I must be dreaming. I do a reality check (finger in hand); then to be double sure, I try to lace my fingers together. They’re basically transparent and slip through each other. I feel transparent all over. I get up and walk outside. I’m immediately faced with the corner of a concrete wall. I decide to walk through it. I’m amazed at the texture. It’s light and ever-so-slightly damp. It’s like pea-sized granules of styrofoam, held together with peanut butter and damp sand. The wall is about 18 inches thick. I pass through easily. I chose to go through at the corner, actually just to the right of the corner, but my left shoulder passed through the corner. On the other side, I’m in a restaurant or coffee shop. I spin to stabilize (this is the first time I’ve been successful at remembering to do this). I notice that when lucidity is about to go, my head feels fuzzy and I get a bit dizzy. Ironicaly, spinning makes me less dizzy and increases the clarity of the dream. I think I’m invisible, but one man can see me. He looks annoyed with me. I feel playful. I kiss my finger and tap it on his nose and laugh. He rolls his eyes. I see a display of mugs for sale. They have a beautiful, sculptural woman’s face on one side. They’re dark bronw, but the woman has painted red lips.
I pick one up and go outside. I always want to be outside in my dreams, and I want it to be daylight. Generally, I get some resistance to this. In this dream, I’m trying to manipulate the landscape to make a large green space in the afternoon, but I’m having some trouble. The landscape keeps changing—woods, suburban neighborhood, rolling hills with some trees. The trees get denser and it becomes cloudy. I think or say (not sure) “I want it to be fall. I want it to be fall.” Then some of the trees burst with fall color. I get some beautiful sunlight through the trees.
I look down at the mug in my hand and remember I can talk to dream objects. I say something like, “Hello. Who are you?” It changes to a little digital display with a talking head on it. The face looks like Beyonce. It gives an audible greeting but then launches into a diva-like tirade that is so fast and high-pitched I can’t understand. I say, “I can’t understand you. What are you trying to say to me?” It stops and says in an annoyed voice, “You would be able to understand if you would just SLOW. DOWN.” I immediately understand its message to be that I should be less impatient and give myself more time to savor this experience and not be in such a rush to “get it.” I give the face a thumbs up and say, “Got it. Thanks!” It vanishes.
I lose lucidity briefly, and fall into a dream that convinces me I’m awake on the same couch. I realize almost immediately that I’m still dreaming and fall back into lucidity. I’m back in the coffee shop, but now it’s shifting into something like a small, trendy grocery store. The annoyed guy is talking to a gangly clerk and trying to convince him that I’m annoying or shouldn’t be here or something. I’m amused by this. The clerk mostly ignores him. I start to feel dizzy and try spinning again. It really helps but isn’t quite enough. I decide to spin/fly through a window that has some lovely green dappled light on it. I go through easily and I’m in a green space again, maybe a college campus.
I walk into a building with glass walls. I’m in a small cafe area, but it’s after hours—all the chairs and tables are stacked and I’m alone. I bushy black dog follows me in and becomes humanoid. It sits in the corner on a metal chair. I look at it and its face becomes more wolf-like. It snarls at me. This is starting to feel nightmarish. My heart rate kicks up a bit, but I decide to confront the wolfman. I pull up a chair and ask “what do you want to say to me?” He has a book in his hands—it’s a beautiful shiny peacock blue edition of Alice in Wonderland. It just says Alice on the cover, but I know this is a dark and twisty version of the fairy tale. He says, “I want to read you a story.” I don’t want to look in that book, so I say, “Okay, but look, it’s light out now [it had been raining]. Let’s walk outside.” I take his hand-paw and lead him outside. He immediately tries to dig his claws into my palm. I calmly say, “Why are you doing this?” and hold his hand tighter. I ask, “What do you want to tell me?” I don’t remember his exact response, but it was about some old shame or pain of mine. I realize this is irrelevant to me now, so I say, “Yeah, but who are you now?” He doesn’t answer. He seems angry. I embrace him in a struggling hold, feeling his black fur. I keep asking again and again, “Who are you now? Who are you now?” I’m yelling it. He vanishes.
I feel light and free. I walk across the grass. My daughter is standing outside a brick building. I pick her up and decide to take her on an adventure. I wake up.