Some of My Lucid Dream Experiences

I've had nightmares all of my childhood and most nights the nightmares had me. One night in 1986, I dreamt I was caught in a pitch black room. I heard a stranger enter the room. Great -- what gruesome new torture was going to happen to me now? I trembled and curled up into a fetal position, expecting the worst. All he did was ask me, "Are you all right?" I was so startled, I woke up. It was love at first sound.

Soon, he let me see his face and he talked to me some more. He said his name was Peter Gabriel, but I often refer to him as Dream Peter.  Peter Gabriel happens to be my favorite singer and songwriter, but my phantom assures me that's just a coincidence. He doesn't act like the real Peter Gabriel very much. I've met the real Peter Gabriel several times. He was always sweet, polite and quiet. Now, my phantom can be sour, rude and loud. But I've chosen the dream Peter rather than the real one, anyway, because he's the only man not related to me who ever gave a damn about me.

First, he taught me about my body and my health. He'd argue about a doctor's diagnosis or my own diagnosis and perform healing spells on me. Sometimes, we danced together or quietly sat on a park bench feeding crumbs to the dream birds.

Then, he taught me how to express myself through words. I had a strict Born Again Christian upbringing, so I was a bit clueless about how to do anything without the risk of being damned to hell for all eternity. Then, he taught me how to laugh at anything, including myself. He also taught me to question everything God, country, love.

For years, we explored the sensual and spiritual sides of life. He never answered questions directly. I always had to go on a quest or put together a puzzle to discover whatever it was I was looking for.

Now, he teaches me about the realm of dreams, his natural habitat. He's taught me how to dream lucidly, so I am aware that I am dreaming and can really have fun! By concentrating, I can make my wishes materialize. Beats the crap out of virtual reality.

Peter says every dreamer has their phantom. A phantom's job is to get the dreamer to create and control his or her dreams. This will help the dreamer live in both dreaming and waking worlds. I'm not entirely sure how this works, but that's what he says and with his deep English accent, I love to hear him say it.

We have had our troubles over our more than twenty years in each other's dreams. I can never make him do what he doesn't want to do. He shows up unpredictably. He wouldn't show up for months on end whenever I was in a relationship with a real man. He says I am not his only client, and I should be lucky that he can squeeze me into his schedule. He can wear faces like masks, and sometimes does not wear his Peter Gabriel face in order to drive me nuts trying to find him. But he has never eaten the last cookie, hogged the covers or ever phoned during the best parts of Star Trek, so I'm happy.

"You'll never find what you're looking for in others," Peter told me after I walked away from an abusive relationship in the real world. Actually, he told me before and during the relationship as well, but this was the first time I believed him. "You can only find these things in yourself. Some women can be very happy being wives and mothers, but not you. And there's nothing wrong with that. Besides, we have fun, don't we?"

Some dreams repeat. Since my twenties, I keep dreaming this one: I'm a princess about to be sacrificed to a hungry dragon. I'm tied fast in the dragon's lair. As the dragon slithers up to me, my phantom appeared with a sword in hand. He sighed, "This is boring. From now on, you rescue yourself." He walked away to lean against the far wall and watch as the dragon bit me, eating popcorn.

"Please help me!" I cried.

But then the dragon suddenly collapsed and died. My blood was apparently poisonous to dragons. "There," Peter smiled. "Isn't this much more interesting?"