I am standing at our kitchen window looking out at the night sky, which is full of stars. It is very late, and the family is asleep upstairs. I am aware of pressing closer to the window, and I can feel the counter against my stomach. There is a misty nebula swirling in the sky, cloudy but quite bright. At this point I become lucid. I am aware of: the coldness of the window against my face; a tremendous force pulling me toward the nebula cloud; my hand which is still in the sink feeling the drain and plug; a voice (mine, I think) repeating, "Epsilon Bootes, Epsilon Bootes, Epsilon Bootes," over and over again; nervous exhilaration.

Since I know that I am still in bed and that it is a dream, I am able to reflect on whether I should "go" or not. At this point my sense of responsibility tells me that my family needs me. I resist the force, which ceases suddenly. Then I awaken with full awareness.(S.A.; Guelph, Ontario)

After meditating about 6:00 in the morning, I went back to sleep and had the following dream: I become lucid and aware that I'm in a room. I'm afraid that if I move I will awaken, so I stay very still and survey the room. Two babies are on the floor playing, and I become aware that they are evolved souls who come here to learn from time to time during their sleep. I enjoy watching them for a while. I notice that it is evening, and the sun is low in the western sky. Then I begin to notice how light builds in the periphery of my vision if I look at the sun out of the corner of my eyes. But if I look directly at the sun, which I realize is the Light, it "collapses" into its original form. I look around and notice the sun reflecting off of a bicycle frame outside the door. As I turn away from it, it also begins to grow and approach me. But when I look at it again, it resumes its normal appearance. Slightly frustrated, I continue to meditate on the images, but I'm unable to allow the Light to grow