In my ongoing quest to move past the lucid dream state and enter into a more objective reality with real beings or places, my latest task is to call for help while in a lucid dream, either from my higher self as Monroe did, or frankly from anyone who might be listening.

I get up at 3am to the sound of my neighbor starting his truck to go to work. I get up, go pee, and go back to bed.


Someone is showing me a row of huge, elaborate houses, all very close together like townhouses. I’m so large that they look like dollhouses. I get to choose which house I want as my own to live in.

I enter one, and I’m standing on a stone pathway in the large garden out the back door. Dream people are around me, doing whatever they do. I think some animals or children too. I don’t pay any attention to them.

Becoming Lucid

I walk down the path, stop, and look up. This is a dream, so I could try flying in the safer-sounding way that I got to thinking about when reading an OBE book yesterday, staying upright instead of diving into the air headfirst, which sometimes I have reservations about due to the possibility of blowing my launch and falling awkwardly.

I feel like I could float right up into the air. I start to raise my arms —

Hold on. That isn’t my task. My task is to call for help.

I stand and call, “Help me!” over and over.

I start getting impatient. I keep calling, pouring some emotion into it.

My other task was to destroy the dream environment to see if I can find what’s beyond the illusion. Reaching out my arm, I imagine a lightning bolt splitting the sky and ground in front of me, tearing apart the dream world. Nothing happens.

I reach out with both hands, grabbing at the air in front of me and trying to rip a hole in it. I can’t actually feel anything I’m grabbing at, so it’s like I’m just fighting against myself, the same as if I were to physically pretend to try to rip the air apart like this. Even so, maybe I can eventually make it real enough rip an opening for someone to come through.

As I do so, I continue to call for help.

My idea is it would look kind of like this, but wider:

I pull and pull it, yelling and getting mad as I pour my strength and emotion into it. I still don’t see anything. I’m having trouble finding the right balance, if there is one, between noticing the garden around me to keep the experience going while at the same time focusing on ripping everything open. 

Then I feel something. A brief sensation in my stomach, like an emotion, or maybe some object shooting through and past me, as if something flew through the portal.

I stop pulling at the air and wonder what that was. It was so sudden. Is anyone there?

The dream environment fades. I’m lying down, still in a dream. I feel a tap on my head, and a strange sound. 

I try to communicate with whatever it is. It just occasionally taps my head again and makes another sound I don’t understand. I don’t remember my questions or the sounds.

Finally I open my eyes and it’s a cat with long hair poking me.

I’m lying down on the floor of one of the houses in the row, from the beginning of the dream. There are other cats lying around, looking very lazy. Maybe dead?

I get up and wonder how these cats got left here in this abandoned house. There are a few dishes of food left out for them still. A few are eating. 

At this point I totally lose lucidity.