I had been searching for a "dreamstone" for many months. This is the name I gave to a talisman made from a stone pierced by a natural hole. Such stones were much valued by ancient Britons who hung them as charms over the beds of sleepers to protect them from bad dreams. I had read about the superstitious custom and thought that a dreamstone would make an interesting exhibit for the dream workshops and lectures that I give.
I soon discovered that it was not easy to find a stone pierced by a natural hole. I had almost abandoned the attempt when by chance one day my husband and I visited the charming old English-style Pelican Inn in Marin County, California. There, hanging by a red ribbon at the head of an antique four poster bed, swung a perfect dreamstone.
My faith in the existence of such stones renewed, I looked whenever I was outside in natural settings, especially on beaches, thinking that a water-washed stone might be more likely to be pierced. So it was by habit that I sought among the stones at Pebble Beach in Carmel-by-the-Sea when my husband and I went there recently for a weekend holiday.
Actually, my interest in the whole topic of dreams had been waning. I had already published two books on the subject1, written articles and contributed chapters about it, done professional papers, and recorded my own dreams for more than 30 years. Most recently, I had devoted a year to assorted small projects, several unrelated to dreams, and worked on a book about women. I felt unfocused and uncertain about the direction I wanted to pursue. It was in this state of mind that the following events took place:
Diary Entry
Saturday, May 16, 1981
Carmel-by-the Sea, California
Facts of the Day:
Pleasant day. Much discussion of my career. Three areas to develop if I go back to dreams: 1) personal dream work; 2) professional dream contacts; 3) writing about dreams. My general theme: application of dreams to improve the quality of life.
After our dinner discussion, as I snuggled into bed, I still felt uncertain about making a full commitment to dreams. I said to myself, "OK, if I am meant to focus my work on dreams again, I will find my dreamstone". With that comforting thought, I drifted off to sleep.
Dreams:
(Incredibly long and lucid dream. I felt extraordinarily perceptive during the whole sequence.)
I am standing in a hallway when I suddenly feel the upsurging of a vibrating current in my body. I rise with it, hearing whirring in my ears. I swim-fly through the air down the long hallway. As I go, I say to myself, "I'm dreaming now and this is a lucid dream".
I try to think of the many things I've wanted to do when I was conscious in a dream and am overwhelmed with the number of possibilities. One that I can recall now is my wish to dance in a mandala. (This was actually a lucid dream goal of a long time ago-which suggests that memory in lucid dreams is "state-specific". I seem to forget other recent goals, such as changing my breathing rate or spinning in order to continue the dream.)2
As I fly, I notice a new sensation: the lower portions of both arms, from elbow, or just below it, to the wrist, feel thick-as though encased in a cylinder of white wool. I am excited and happy. I feel myself in a most peculiar state-extraordinarily perceptive. I see things and know things that seem entirely new. (These, unfortunately, faded as I moved away from Zal's bottom to reach for the paper and pen. I had a sense of breaking a connection, as though the touching of our spines was important.)
One of the things I do remember is standing in a room and talking to Zal, telling him of the wondrous things I have just experienced. It seems that he can see the objects in the waking world while I can see the same objects in the dream world. For instance, he says, "What time does that clock say?" I see a large grandfather's clock made of dark wood with figures in Roman numerals made of black wrought iron. I peer at it and say something like, " 10 of 5 ," adding, "I'm not really sure it is actually there, or what it is I may be seeing, but that is how it appears to me in the dream". He questions me in a similar manner on various items. Putting together what I see in the dream with what he sees in the waking world, matching the dream image with the actual object, is fascinating to us.
Toward the end of the dream, a woman is speaking to me of J., saying, "He's my second guide in the Penth". J., who is there, turns to me and says, "I know she uses that term. But I can find it in no literature that I know of". We discuss this as we sit outside on a patio. I feel the current of energy wane, the circuit breaks, as I wake.
I wake up and write this dream and go back to sleep. There are three dream periods for me this night. In the first, the dream described above, the main theme seems to be one of going back to a former goal with a new excitement. I appear to sense a new communication between the dream world and waking world that is worthwhile and important to express. The psychic part of myself is guiding me. All this suggests a confirmation of my tentative decision to return to working professionally on dreams.
The theme of the second dream period relates to having left some valuable things I need for a trip behind; I discover this in time and recover them - probably symbolizing the same theme, recovering the valuable dream work.
The third dream period deals with Zal helping me to perform an experiment as he had by forcing me to attend to making a career decision.
Sunday, May 17, 1981
San Francisco, California
Facts of the Day:
The next day, I woke early again in our hotel in Carmel. I was extremely impressed by my lucid dream after the dinner discussion of returning to dream work. Exercised and meditated. Then Zal and I went together to the beach again. While he ran, I looked diligently for a dreamstone, as before. There seemed to be nothing of the sort on Pebble Beach. There were many ovals; there were oblongs; there were lovely rounds, but nothing with a hole pierced through by nature. As I walked along the waves thinking of my dream, I spotted a stone with an unusual shape for the area - a triangle, almost like an arrowhead. I picked it up, brushed off the sand, and added it to the small collection in my jacket pocket. With the next step, I saw another stone of the same rare triangular shape. Incredibly, as I stared, I saw that this triangular stone was pierced with a natural hole! After nine months of searching, I had found my dreamstone! I gathered it almost reverently and washed the two stones in the sea. I had asked for a sign: "If I am meant to go back to work on dreams, send me a dreamstone". And there it was. How strange. My heart was full of thanks for the concrete nature of the answer. And wonder...
The dreams of the following weeks were especially rich and full of wondrous archetypal imagery. initiations and teaching, giving me a sense of return to the right path.
1 Creative Dreaming (Simon & Schuster, 1975; Ballantine, 1976); Pathway to Ecstasy: The Way of the Dream Mandala (Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1979).
2 These are activities in lucid dreams that Stephen LaBerge of Stanford University had suggested to me profoundly affect his lucid dreams.
