The Wall Had a Door
For months I kept slamming into the same wall: lucid in a dream, attempting to “meditate my way into projection,” and either collapsing back to waking or losing lucidity entirely. I’ve known about staging lucid dreams for further altered state exploration and have had most of my success in projecting through this exact modality. The success rate has always been about 20%, and for a long stretch last year I felt like every time I transitioned from a lucid dream into projection it broke down or failed to launch almost immediately. I understood it intellectually. But I couldn’t execute it.
January 24th showed me why.
Meditation
I laid down in the afternoon for a 30-minute meditation. It was a simple meditation with the intent to move into Focus 12 and ask for the 3 “most important messages that I need to hear right now.” I was on a mission. I selected the “256-128-64” track from Tom Campbell’s binaural beats. I did not need to be taken down to absolute depths of my consciousness, but this track has proven to be incredibly versatile for my unguided and focused explorations.
Often times I get so wrapped up in my analytical mind that I forget that this kind of meditation can be done at any time and however many times you’d like. You may not always receive answers right away—I seldom do—but you will at another time in the day, in a week, in a dream, etc. Worrying if you receive your answers or not is counterproductive; know that they will come and are hard to miss.
I’m noticing that, most of the time now, I don’t need to do the mental gymnastics of relaxing the body. I will typically test this at first and see how quickly I get into “mind awake, body asleep” state and then proceed to take myself deeper. In some sessions just the mere notion of doing mental exercises to relax sends me down further than on days I’m actually doing it.
Once I expanded a few times in F12, I made a declaration of my sovereignty and proceeded to ask “what is the most important message for me right now” three times, allowing stillness and time between each question.
I did get some scenes but nothing that grabbed my attention. You might think that I’m being lazy, but I’ve found that when a visual is meant to be understood you will be compelled to focus on it. There is no looking away and being disinterested when that happens, and you remember all of it. These weren’t that.
Throughout the totality of the meditation I experienced some sorely missed glitches. I haven’t had these glitches in a while, and to me they are comforting in a way. When it happens it almost feels like I’m brushing up against something or someone or a connection is being attempted—it’s a byproduct of sorts that I am open for contact and transmission.
One such glitch today was the familiar white strobe from behind the eyes; happened at least a couple times. The other glitch was new: a flash of burnt-orange and red lights moving from left to right of my field of view, lasting 2 to 3 seconds, like a bloody lightning strike (the non-derogatory kind). No idea what this is, and seeing red or deep orange is new to me. I haven’t perceived such colors in meditative states yet.
Lucid Dream -> Projection
I’m filing this away as a projection for one specific reason: I set an intent to have a lucid dream and it was delivered, then I experienced much more. First, after setting my intent and turning over to my left, I mentally said, “Now I am out of body.” I chuckled at that. Awareness is “out of body” every time we sleep—a bit redundant now I believe.
I began to let myself slide into the familiar and intoxicating feeling that you get right before you lose consciousness. It’s like a deep mental-and-physical “sinking” feeling, except you’re sinking into a void of nothing. I love it. It took nearly a month of struggles to recognize how much I appreciate that feeling, the subtle feedback of your physical existence hinting at the transition to come.
For a good while I was unconsciously operating in a dream. I suddenly came to consciousness, but I do not remember what triggered it. I was in my office, as is tradition, and the lighting was actually very accurate. It was bright but not “ultra-hd-hyper-real” bright. I wish I knew what made me lucid because this setting was as close as you can get to my actual office; the fidelity of this simulation was generally 1:1 with waking life.
It’s been a while since I’ve had this opportunity, and in the moment I did have a small doubt if I was in waking state or simulation, so I did what I always do in such a case: I hopped up into the air with intent to hover around and boy did I ever! I didn’t leave the room but I was whipping and zipping around in a circular motion, going rather fast. I felt like a dog that finally got access to that one room, with that one couch that it’s not allowed to ever be on, and the owners aren’t home.
After some time I lost control of my flight and defaulted to autopilot which kept me spinning in wide circles. In that moment I let go of controlling and just leaned back with my head facing up and my arms dangling at my sides. I surrendered. Around that same time, for some reason, I got the urge to open my eyes.
Opening my eyes was surprisingly easy and effortless. Last year when bilocation first began to occur for me it took real effort, straining, like forcing a door open. This time? “Fuck it, let’s open the eyes” and they opened without resistance.
With my eyes open now—I do not believe my physical eyes were open—I was looking in the direction that I fell asleep in. Where my head was on the pillow, the shelves in front of me, blanket over my right shoulder, etc. At the same exact time I was also still experiencing briskly floating in circles around the office. Bilocation was starting to come through a month or so ago but then stopped. Here it was again.
This specific bilocation experience lasted by far the longest I’ve ever had. I closed my eyes and the exit into waking state began automatically.
It was one of the most gentle exits ever. I felt myself ever so softly spiral downward and settle into my physical body. As I opened my eyes the same view greeted me that I was observing just moments ago.
It wasn’t my physical eyes that were open but rather my etheric eyes. This was a lucid dream from which I projected, although I needed to get up but never did.
What made me suddenly need to open my eyes in that moment to experience bilocation? Is this an important message that I needed right now? I believe so; read on.
What I Missed All Along
I’ve intellectually understood for a year that lucid dreams and projection exist on the same non-local gradient: dream, lucid dream, projection, NDE, death. But bilocation is categorically different. It’s like a fuzzy boundary, like tuning between radio stations, hearing two broadcasts simultaneously when you’re not quite locked onto either frequency.
You’re not between non-local stations. You’re aware of, and receiving, “feeds” from two non-local states as two distinct broadcasts simultaneously.
I’ve been treating bilocation as some novel end-state to achieve for a purpose of some sort. I haven’t found a purpose yet really. It’s not. It’s the transition mechanism itself. While I do not believe it’s strictly “the in-between” space, I do find it having that liminal quality.
When you “open your eyes” during a lucid dream, you’re not opening physical eyes. You’re activating etheric eyes. The etheric body is already positioned at your physical location; that’s why the view matches. The bilocation is the brief liminal window during the frequency shift from dream-spectrum to etheric-spectrum. Like moving across the non-local and non-physical gradient or scrubbing through broadcasts with a radio dial.
You’re catching yourself mid-transfer.
I’ve attempted to meditate within lucid dreams to “get to projection.” That approach was clashing with a mechanism I didn’t understand.
In reality, all I needed to do was to just “let go and flow.” I know, I’ve written that so many times but never really got it myself. Just like waking up, putting on running shoes, and eventually stepping out into the world… I know what to do: run. Well, when a lucid dream spins up I also now know what to do and it couldn’t be more natural: just open your eyes and get up.
Last year’s wall wasn’t lack of skill. It was misunderstanding the architecture. I was trying to meditate my way through a door when I just needed to open it and walk through.
Shadow Work Connection
The effortless opening this time correlates directly with ongoing shadow work. Less psychological entropy means more available processing power. Not just for accessing non-local states, but for maintaining awareness during transitions between them.
The burnt-orange and red lightning flash during meditation may have been bandwidth expansion in real time. New frequency range coming online right before the capability manifested. In Broadcast Theory terms: my receiver, or more precise way of putting it “ham radio,” was accessing channels I haven’t tuned into before.
What Changed
The “fuck it” mentality. No expectation, no forcing, just curiosity. That’s the “let go and flow” principle applied to a mechanism I’d been white-knuckling for months.
Every time I gently spiraled back into physical wasn’t failure at all; it was my subconscious shifting down to the next best awareness mode. A bit like learning to drive stick—you’re gonna stall the engine out and sit there being all disappointed that the vehicle did exactly what it was designed to do. It’s not the vehicle, it’s the driver.
Now that I’ve felt it, I can recognize it and flow through it.
By overanalyzing what was occurring I built my own wall and rickety ladder. The subconscious stood at the bottom of it all and looked up at me climbing, shaking its head, through a door which was wide open this whole time.
That was the most important message I was meant to receive at this time.