A Day in a Life: I Asked For It

It seems that this blog, which I began in an effort to highlight how Jeanne’s messages relate and intersect with everyday life, is more or less turning into a blog about setting and awaiting outcome of unbending intent, as the seers call it, at least for now. Over the past twelve weeks I’ve been exploring dreaming intent, in which I had sent out a proposal to the women seers of don Juan’s generation of the sorcerers of ancient Mexico, to come and teach me in dreaming. I was utterly amazed as the nights unfolded and I did, in fact, learn invaluable lessons from those women. That process took place last fall and since then I have continued setting dreaming intent each night that I feel I want to go exploring, and although I do not specifically intend to dream with those women, I know they have continued to lead me on some pretty cool adventures. Some nights I may just want to sleep soundly and dreamlessly and that, too, becomes my intent. On the night of June 2, 2010, right before midnight, I had a most profound out-of-body experience (OBE). It was more vivid than any other OBE I have ever had. Clearly, the shamanic work I am doing and the books I have been reading are major factors in how the experience unfolded and how I reacted to what was happening.

In keeping with Jeanne’s message on Monday of this week, to not hold back, I write today about that experience, sharing it with you not only because it was so profound, but also because it is perhaps the thirteenth step in learning a shamanic practice. Before I describe the experience, I quote a paragraph from The Second Ring of Power, the book I was reading just before going to bed that night. Carlos Castaneda is talking to la Gorda and the women of his own generation of seers about the various stages of learning dreaming from the nagual, don Juan. On pages 269-270 Carlos says:

The final stage was drawing the “attention of the nagual” to focus on the total self. Don Juan said that that final stage was usually ushered in by a dream that many of us have had at one time or another, in which one is looking at oneself sleeping in bed. By the time the sorcerer has had such a dream, his attention has been developed to such a degree that instead of waking himself up, as most of us would do in a similar situation, he turns on his heels and engages himself in activity, as if he were acting in the world of everyday life. From that moment on there is a breakage, a division of sorts in the otherwise unified personality. The result of engaging the “attention of the nagual” and developing it to the height and sophistication of our daily attention of the world was, in don Juan’s scheme, the other self, an identical being as oneself, but made in “dreaming.”

Don Juan went on to encourage Carlos to practice, saying that there are no definite steps for teaching that double, or dreaming self, just as there are no definite steps to teaching ourselves how to be aware in our daily lives; we do it by practicing it from the time we are born. Don Juan also encouraged Carlos to practice without fear getting the best of him. After reading the above quote, I recalled how other out-of-body explorers generally suggest that looking at the self asleep is to be avoided because when attention is drawn back to the physical body it may arouse fear, causing us to snap out of the experience and land right back into that sleeping self. In contrast, I saw that don Juan was actually suggesting that looking at the sleeping self was part of the process in learning to fully “dream.” When I fell asleep that night I merely put out my intent to “see” and to “dream.” Here is my experience, which I will attempt to capture in as much detail as possible:

I wake up and look outside through the sliding glass door of the bedroom. I see what I perceive as an airplane blinking behind the trees in the distance; it blinks quickly and then swings sharply to the left, low on the horizon. As I watch this unusually strange maneuver, I think that perhaps it’s not an airplane after all, but a shooting star. But even that idea does not fit what I’m seeing, because the light doesn’t shoot and burn out, but flies directly towards the deck, which is right outside the sliding door. The light flits about and I wonder if it’s a firefly, but I’ve never seen one this big nor one that zips about so happily, bouncing in the air, its fat body large and bright, a luminous elongated egg-shape, and not blinking on and off like the light of a firefly.

During all of this I am partially sitting up in bed, feeling extremely uncomfortable and awkward, blinking my eyes over and over again in order to clear them so I can see better. I feel very heavy, drugged by sleep, and it’s a struggle to stay sitting up, but something is drawing me to the window. With great effort I get out of bed, still feeling clumsy, as if very intoxicated; my legs don’t work right and yet, somehow, I step over the sleeping dog lying on the floor next to me and make it over to the sliding glass door. From this vantage point, I see that not only one bright light is fluttering and swooping outside in the darkness above the backyard, but more are starting to come from the same spot in the sky. Suddenly, but without fear, I realize that this may relate to what I’d been reading before I fell asleep, that I am “seeing” as the seers see. With that thought I wonder if I’m out-of-body. I recall what I’d just read, that when one can tolerate seeing one’s body lying asleep then one is truly “seeing and “dreaming.” I decide that I’ll turn and see if my body is lying in bed, as don Juan suggested, reminding myself not to be frightened if I see my body lying there, because I don’t want to snap back into it.

I am still feeling very clumsy and think that normally I’d turn slightly and glance over my right shoulder, but that doesn’t feel right in the state I’m in. As soon as I think that thought, I feel myself swing effortlessly around, counterclockwise, in a sweeping 360 degree turn, though I don’t actually move; only my “seeing” moves, as if my eyes can see in all directions. Halfway around, I quickly take in the darkness of the room, that the covers are pulled up, and I see my legs and Chuck’s sleeping form under the blankets, but the top of the bed is in such darkness that I cannot see our heads. When I finish the turn, when I finish seeing the room, I am facing right back out toward the deck and the yard again. I sense my “body” flattened against the sliding door, as if I’m but a thin sheet of cellophane stuck to it.

At that moment, I realize that I’m in my “double,” that I am indeed “dreaming,” and as soon as that thought crosses my awareness the first light-being flies right up to the deck and dances before me. A large egg-shaped luminous creature, about ten or twelve inches in length, it comes right up to the window. Flitting about, it twirls and loops in front of me and, as it begins to fly off to the right, I am struck by how similar it appears to the way I have always perceived Jeanne’s energy, a luminous being with white wings and body, butterfly-like more than firefly-like. As soon as I have that thought, the being flies back in front of me and seems to show me that, yes, it is exactly Jeanne’s energy. It pirouettes before me, flutters its wings and seems to laugh with delight, happy that I’m now perceiving it correctly. I feel its energy, so alive and so vibrant.

As I watch this show taking place, I blink repeatedly, constantly trying to clear my vision so that I don’t miss anything. My mind, however, is still trying to place what I’m seeing, to make sense of what these creatures might be. I have one final thought that perhaps they are luna moths, and just as I settle on that idea, I let it go and pay greater attention to what is happening outside the window. I see the light-beings still coming towards me, pouring out of the same point on the horizon behind the trees, their fat bellies luminously glowing, getting brighter and brighter and bigger and bigger, as they bounce through the air, swooping and dancing towards me.

I stand and watch this beautiful show for a long time, pressed up against the window, blinking and taking in, with a sense of wonder, delight, and amazement, the absolutely serene silent beauty of these creatures, these luminous beings, as they dance and float before me. I’m able to turn and “see” the show to the right and to the left, as well as straight ahead, without actually turning. I’m simply able to “see” in all directions.

As the show continues, I’m fully aware that I’m being given a gift of not only “seeing” and “dreaming,” but also of interpreting energy, that these creatures are showing me what energy looks like, and somehow I understand this. I know that I look like that too, that we are all luminous egg-shaped beings. I know that we are all full of such vigor, potent with energy, that we are energy, that we are incredibly luminescent. I know that we are all magical beings.

I don’t know how long I actually stand there pressed against the window, but somehow I get back into my body, though I don’t remember actually traveling back over to the bed. The next thing I do know is that I wake up, still feeling that drowsy soporific heaviness and I write down in my journal a cryptic description of what I’ve just experienced, not wanting to forget it, but already knowing that I’ll never forget it.

The next morning, the experience remained as fresh and real as it had been the night before. I puzzled over what had actually happened, my mind conjuring up the idea of luna moths again, wanting to settle on some rational explanation for what I’d experienced, but I knew those were not creatures of this world. I still held the truer feeling of having experienced pure energy, coming in a form I could handle, and that truth and that energy has lasted to this day.

This was a turning point. I’ve never doubted what I “saw” and what I felt. My awareness was totally intact, my thoughts were mine; I was always me throughout the entire episode. I truly believe that I received something energetically from those luminous beings during this experience, that I was invited into experiencing my own boundless energy body. I can truthfully say that since that night my personal energy, my physical energy has remained steadily vibrant and glowing. My fears have vanished and I am no longer holding back. This is the world I have worked so hard to enter and I know that I can’t turn back. I can no longer experience or interpret reality in the old way. I humbly report that I learned to “see.”

Try some dreaming. Might I recommend reading a little Castaneda beforehand, or a little Buhlman, then set unbending intent, go to sleep, and see what happens?

Until next week, I send love and energy,

NOTE: Books and authors mentioned in this essay can be found in our Store.

3 thoughts on “A Day in a Life: I Asked For It”

  1. What a beautiful description, Jan. I’d like to share a “gift of energy” that I recently experienced, during sleep. This was just this past week, Sunday night, and it seems synchronous somehow that Monday was solstice. I was sleeping somewhat fitfully, waking frequently, but not in an anxious kind of way, more like a sense of anticipation. And then I woke with an awareness of a joyful kind of energy zipping around my room. I didn’t “see” it, the way you did, but just felt it, sensed it. It was like a feeling of “it’s finally here”. And then, I felt a familiar vibration, the kind that I have experienced when I’ve gone out of body during dreaming before, only this time, the vibration came from outside me, and then in, through the crown of my head. This happened five or six times, and I felt no fear during this process. When the vibration stopped, I fully woke and looked at the clock, 3:42 am. I then went back to sleep and slept soundly.

    I don’t really know how to interpret what happened, but it was very vivid, and I do know that I have felt a distinct sense of calm and balance this week. Just wanted to share, maybe other readers have experienced something similar.

  2. Here is what Emily Dickinson has to say about being open to experiences of this sort:

    The soul should always stand ajar,
    Ready to welcome the ecstatic experience

  3. Yes.. a very beautiful description.. for some reason I did not read this until just now. It made me think of the joyful, fearless delight the little boy in the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind seemed to be filled with upon seeing the spaceships flying around him, and that I (and certainly many others) vicariously shared. I felt those same feelings as I read your post. Congratulations on having such a wonderful experience and thank you for sharing it with us!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *