Observing myself observing myself.
Field Notes 20260627 - Saturday
A ho-hum meditation, a couple mild lucid dreams, and an encounter with a skeleton-looking Liminal. A typical Saturday afternoon.
Today’s Field Notes illustration:
Liminal Skeleton - I just don’t know what to call it yet. It surfaced the way the others do, rising out of a segmented pool of near-blinding white light in the bottom-right of the field of view, slender and bright and never quite still. What set this one apart was its temperament: it noticed me, chuckled to itself, and waved a leg in greeting before returning to the quiet work of assembling itself. A figure stripped down to the barest scaffolding, yet entirely at ease, even amused, in the middle of becoming. Less something to decode than someone to meet halfway. Still unnamed, and somehow that fits.
Afternoon
Meditation
- 40 minutes.
- Expand app, timer section, F21 (the bridge).
Not much to write about the meditation itself other than it went fine and the phantom noises in the office continue to sound off as I progress tuning F21.
Lucid Dream & Liminal
After the meditation, I set intent for immersive altered states, set my gear aside, rolled over and started to threshold hunt. I only really had time for a couple passes, and it worked out very well for the overall session.
The second pass wasn’t as interesting as the first, so I’ll focus on that for this entry. I found myself in a room that felt normal and well lit, sitting in front of a computer screen. I was engrossed in what was happening on the screen, doing something here and there but mostly observing. I don’t know how else to explain it other than I knew what I was doing, but I had no idea what I was doing… and that’s when lucidity hit.
Now, completely conscious, I saw what I was doing and my surroundings. The room that I was in had a light-colored wallpaper, very reminiscent of places I grew up in before I was 12 years old. I was sitting on a bed, a light blanket draped over the lower half of my body. The screen that I was looking at was a beige CRT (cathode ray tube), a legacy analog screen.
On the screen was another person sitting in a similar position and also looking at a screen. I looked a little closer. It was me. I was observing myself observing myself, observing myself.
I sat back a bit on the bed, confused, thinking, “Well, this is definitely something.” I felt like this was a message, one of the five from the other session. I’m not quite keen on exactly what the message is, but it is, without a doubt, a message. With that realization, I leaned back with my entire body and fell through the floor on which the bed was sitting.
As I moved through the tunnel, making turns and adjustments here and there, I kept thinking about what I just experienced. This is interesting — I’ve become so accustomed to these tunnel travel transitions that I’m thinking about other topics while in them.
As I gently settled back down on my actual physical bed, a Liminal display began to form in the usual spot, bottom-right of my field of view. It looked like a segmented pool of white light, and yes it was in constant motion. Out of this flattened pool of light segments began to emerge yet another slender figure, also nearly blindingly white.
I focused in on this display and was able to bring it closer to me (or I to it). Curiously, humorously even, it was a bright white skeleton assembling itself out of the pool of light. Before long, the skeleton figure noticed me, chuckled to itself, waved a leg at me (it was holding a leg), and continued to assemble itself.
The Liminal display dissolved in the void background shortly after, and I opened my eyes to my very normal, physical, and quiet office.
