524-OB: Floating verandah covered grass

9.31 am

I have been practicing Ajahn Lee's mindfulness of breathing all night long to fall asleep and to relax. The method involves being very, very gentle—trying to make the breathing pleasurable so that the mind naturally wants to feel the breath. And it really works every time.

Then I've been having so many dreams, in and out and in and out—so many dreams. Before going back into sleep, I set the intention that I want to have an out-of-body experience—that I will come out of the dream slowly and then try the exit technique.

And true enough, after having many dreams, I found myself in a proper hazy state of mind and tried to feel my fingers rubbing. I managed to rub my fingers and rub my palms together, then rub the mattress of the bed, swing my feet over, and stand up on the floor of my bedroom.

I then peered at my hands and walked forward, and the world appeared. I was outdoors in a shaded area. I touched every object that continued to appear with my hands and rubbed them. I also touched the ground and could feel it. At one point it became grass, and I touched the grass and pulled on it. I was also floating around. I touched the objects around me as much as I could.

There was a fence. I went near the fence while floating around. Then the dream faded.

But just before it faded, I remembered I was holding something—an object. A brick. A triangular brick. I could still faintly feel the brick in my hands. Then I focused on the feeling of the brick, and I re-entered the dream again—holding the brick—and I was walking around once more. I could feel my feet on the ground, stamping on the floor as I walked.

I spoke to myself: “This is a dream. I am dreaming. This is a dream.” And I could hear my voice.

I was looking through the fence, outdoors, toward the beyond. Again, I reached a pole—a metal pole. And again, the dream faded. But I could still faintly feel the metal pole in my hands—the coolness and the solidity.

Based on that sensation, I managed to re-enter the dream again. The trick is not to rush out and record, but instead to try to prolong and re-enter. And it works.

So I re-entered the dream again. I could feel the pole. I rubbed my hands and arms down, and it became real. The whole world appeared again. I kept telling myself, “This is a dream. I am lucid. This is a dream. I am lucid.”

Eventually, the dream faded again. And this time, I let it go.