Talking to someone in a dream, in contrast to the pointless, ever-changing texts I encountered in books, had a slightly mystical feel to it.
In most instances, the time for conversation would come once I had realized that I was dreaming. The space around me would become deserted. People who had been there one moment, had dispersed or filed out. Only the major players of the dream would remain, the ones who had been crucial to the plot. Usually, they would have the guise of a relative or friend. In a lucid dream, however, you easily see through their deceitful appearance. It's as if they're wearing the faces of your loved ones as a mask. Regardless of who they really are, you can talk to them. In my dreams, they would quickly become aware of the change in my perception, and would no longer attempt to fool me. Instead, they would answer questions quickly and to the point.
- Am I sleeping?
- Yes.
- Are you my relatives?
- No.
This is usually where the conversation would end, as I'd find something more interesting to do, studying the world around me or pondering its details. One day, however, the conversation took an unexpected turn.
It was one of those dreams in which you arethe hero of an action movie. I had made my way to the enemy base and hadcourageously fought my way to its exit. As the bad guys were chasing me througha forest, it came to me that I was dreaming. Turning around then, I came faceto face with three Snovids (that's what I call the figures in my dreams). Theydid not even pretend to be real people, taking on their shapeless, blurry form.You may recall, their shape is somewhere between a man and an octopus. Aproposof nothing, I decided to strike up a conversation:
- Hi there! I know this is a dream – I said calmly.
(Maybe I should note that, during a previous dream, I had shouted "I'm sleeping!" and the snovids nearby had reacted with an eerie cry akin to a siren. After that, I had either not announced my discovery at all or spoken very quietly.)
This time, however, I stated it as a fact, rather than a question.
They looked surprised at this revelation
- But how? Who are you?
Now it was my turn to be surprised by their reaction.
- How is this possible? – I thought – How can they not know who I am? This is MY dream, and they're figments of MY imagination, right?
Despite my confusion, I explained to them what my name was, where I came from and how I had learned the basics of dreaming: That I am an artist, a student of Vladimir Bagaliki, and that I had learned about lucid dreaming from the books of Carlos Castaneda, during my apprenticeship.
Itseemed, however, that my words left them puzzled. The names meant nothing to them,and I could see the question "How?" clearly in their eyes. This, I admit, is aquestion I find difficult to answer myself.
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