I woke up, then had a nightmare. That’s when things got weird

Let me tell you about a recent trance experience I had. It was stronger, wilder, and much stranger than my usual food. When this kind of thing happens, it’s too good to keep to myself.

When I hear about meditation and self-hypnosis, many people wonder if they fall asleep.

It’s quite easy to do when you relax and focus.

Generally, it is not a problem. My philosophy is that if you need to sleep more than you need to focus, then your body will tell you.

But I understand it. If you are meditating, it is good to meditate. If you wanted a nap, you would do that instead.

There are simple solutions for this. The easiest are to meditate while standing, walking, maybe even jogging. It’s harder mental training, which creates better results. And you certainly won’t fall asleep doing this.

Anyway, I was a bit exhausted when I went into this trance. My body needed sleep, so I gave it up. The fact that I could lull myself to sleep with meditation music this loud just shows how much I needed it.

I fell asleep for who knows how long.

Then I woke up.

Something like.

Because here’s the weird thing about deep hypnotic states: You can be wide awake and feel like you’re dreaming. Having gone into a trance, fallen asleep, and woken in such a short time, I was straddling that wonderful state of consciousness where everything is intense and nothing seems quite real.

Lying like that, with the music blaring, I had a nightmare.

I was awake, lucid, and able to move.

And I was hallucinating.

The nightmare was not terrifying at all. It wasn’t like a monster was chasing me (my monsters are scared of me these days). It was much more abstract, confusing, and terrifying than that.

I rolled with it. With apologies to Mr. Roosevelt, fear itself is nothing to fear.

It passed, as intense emotions like.

And then…

I started laughing.

No giggles or giggles. I’m talking about laughs. Deep, rumbling, teary eyes, breathing that prevents laughter.

And it didn’t stop.

I laughed for an embarrassingly long time.

Then it became a worryingly long time.

So it was painful: there’s not that much laughter that your abdominal muscles can handle.

That was in the first five minutes. I laughed for another ten or fifteen after that.

What was so funny?

I could explain the joke, but it barely makes sense to me.

Laughter is a release of tension. If you fall off your bike but don’t get hurt, you laugh. It lets everyone know to stop worrying.

That’s what this laugh was about. She had a lot of worry and tension that she needed to let go of. This is how my unconscious does it.

Hey, I’m not complaining. It sure beats crying.