Tactile Sensations for Cohesion
By Eugene Raphael · Night Report · Liminal Light Lab
Technique: Waking With Intent, the fall-back-asleep breathing trick, and feeling my way in. Mask: LucidMe. Outcome: a dream built by touch alone, from a mossy roof to an orange and a lemon. This is the anchor story for why I say touch creates cohesion.
Falling back asleep fast
I found an interesting trick for falling back asleep very fast in the middle of the night: looking left to right after waking and making my exhales "slightly" longer than my inhales, but not uncomfortably so. I can only do this for maybe one minute before I fall back into a deep slumber. Ever since, the quality of my sleep has improved dramatically.
That matters for dreaming. At night, rather than viewing scenes from silence as I do in my daytime practice, I take advantage of interrupted sleep. I set my intention to wake up repeatedly, then use each waking as an entry point. The drawback is that it fails when I can't fall back asleep quickly. With the trick, the time awake between attempts gets compressed, and I get many more wakings to work with.
Feeling the "floor"
Each time I wake, I intend to immediately "feel" my way around in the darkness. On the third attempt that night, I suddenly could "feel" the floor.
Except it wasn't the floor. I ran my hands along these objects; they were very rough. I could not see anything; there was no scenery. I engaged the sensation of touch as much as I could, and then I felt my entire body on some rough, bumpy, textured surface.
It's definitely a kind of "waypoint." I can sense I am lying on the bed, but I can feel the sensations of the dream without seeing the scenery.
The mossy roof
I stayed engaged in the touch, and as I did, my hands materialized in front of me and I could suddenly see what I was crawling on. I was on an old shingle roof, near the edge. I could see intricate details in the shingles, including moss or algae growing on them.
Then the entire scene burst into view in startling clarity. I was peering over the edge of the roof of a small house. I crawled down the side like a spider. I could feel the wood siding, damp and slick, white paint peeling off from age.
The orange and the lemon
On the ground, I was between two houses on a rocky path that led to the front yard. I kept my hands out in front of me, visible the whole time, touching everything.
By the front yard, the detail and realism were nothing short of astounding. Then I got distracted by an orange tree and a lemon tree. I plucked an orange in my left hand and a lemon in my right. There was so much minute detail in those two pieces of fruit that it was nearly overwhelming. The orange, for some reason, was too soft, almost squishy, but the lemon was very firm.
The longer I looked at the orange, the more details I could see, almost like I could shrink down and get lost in its surface and change the dream entirely. My attention was drawn to the most trivial level of detail in a way that threatened to alter the scene.
The cattails and the road
Still clenching the fruit, I walked toward the street. A large cattail plant grew near the road, and I had an irresistible urge to dive into it and feel its texture all over my body. I fell into it and felt the cattails everywhere. Then I stood up at the edge of the road and realized I recognized it: a road through a residential area that I've driven many times, from Citrus Heights into Roseville.
I stood there contemplating what that meant. In doing so I forgot to focus on the tactile sensations, or to look at my hands, and the dream faded. I could have used the waking to go back in, but I decided against it.
In the end I lost cohesion anyway, simply because my intent became unfocused. That is okay; I have learned not to be greedy. That in itself results in more dreaming experiences.
Why touch creates cohesion
Not once did the scenery waver or change. I only ran into trouble when I lost my focus. Touch and vision combined are very powerful, very immersive. Grappling around in the dark and sustaining that sensation of touch solidifies the movement of the assemblage point.
This dream was honestly more realistic than waking life, more vivid, more concise. I find that to be a bit... odd.
Takeaways
Feel before you see. The scene built itself out of what my hands touched.
Keep your hands in view. The moment I forgot them, the dream faded.
Don't be greedy. Losing a dream gracefully leaves room for the next one.
Related
Community: What's the most realistic texture you've ever felt in a dream?
Liminal Light shares personal practice, not medical advice. Read About & Safety first.
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