- Joined
- May 30, 2005
- Messages
- 19
Hello Node!
My 'interesting results', since you asked
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The first time I became lucid was in a dream about reading a biography of Hitler. I thought to myself: 'I don't have any books on Hitler... I must be dreaming!' The lucidity always comes upon me with a sudden rush of vividness and detail, as if the dream had turned from a 2D image into 3D.
The most beautiful was a log-cabin I explored in an arctic wilderness. The hardness of the ground and the way the frost scrunched underfoot was quite breathtaking. The heat and crackle of the fire I discovered inside, against the arctic silence, filled me with awe...
The most exciting was becoming lucid in my bedroom, jumping out the bedroom window and flying over the town. The buildings rolled past as I flew over them, in complete detail. I landed on a roof and watched someone through a skylight reading a book, amazed to think that this person had no existence in reality...
But it's when you think over the experience afterwards that the doubts set in. It's not 'consciousness' as we ordinarily understand it, in which case - why call it 'consciousness' at all?
Someone in FT somewhere criticised the alien abduction phenomenon, arguing that these were lucid dreams, because - given the number of optically impaired people in the world - no one ever complained about not being able to see what the aliens were doing, despite being snatched from their beds without glasses or contacts... Having read Node's post, now I'm not so sure!
Duncan.
My 'interesting results', since you asked

The first time I became lucid was in a dream about reading a biography of Hitler. I thought to myself: 'I don't have any books on Hitler... I must be dreaming!' The lucidity always comes upon me with a sudden rush of vividness and detail, as if the dream had turned from a 2D image into 3D.
The most beautiful was a log-cabin I explored in an arctic wilderness. The hardness of the ground and the way the frost scrunched underfoot was quite breathtaking. The heat and crackle of the fire I discovered inside, against the arctic silence, filled me with awe...
The most exciting was becoming lucid in my bedroom, jumping out the bedroom window and flying over the town. The buildings rolled past as I flew over them, in complete detail. I landed on a roof and watched someone through a skylight reading a book, amazed to think that this person had no existence in reality...
But it's when you think over the experience afterwards that the doubts set in. It's not 'consciousness' as we ordinarily understand it, in which case - why call it 'consciousness' at all?
Someone in FT somewhere criticised the alien abduction phenomenon, arguing that these were lucid dreams, because - given the number of optically impaired people in the world - no one ever complained about not being able to see what the aliens were doing, despite being snatched from their beds without glasses or contacts... Having read Node's post, now I'm not so sure!
Duncan.