Lucidity Letter - March 1984 - Vol. 3, No. 1

Lucidity Letter

1.   The Selling of the Senoi - 79

       Ann Faraday and John Wren—Lewis

2.   An Estimate of Lucid Dreaming Incidence - 81

       Jayne Gackenbach

3.   Terminology in Lucid Dream Research - 82

       Charles, T. Tart

4.   Remarks By A Lucid Dreamer - 84

       Edith Gilmore

5.  News and Notes Vol. 3, No. 1 - 85



Ann Faraday and John Wren-Lewis



It has been said that when religions are faced with new discoveries challenging their authority, they react in three predictable stages: first, “It’s not true;” second, “It’s wicked;” and third, “We knew it all along so why make a fussabout it?” A remarkably similar process is currently taking place amongst True Believers in the religion of so—called “Senoi dream control.”


Their first protest, when reports began to appear in the late 1970s denying that the Senoi tribe of Malaysia really practice dream manipulation, was to accuse the “militaristic Malaysian government” of suppressing both the gentle aborigines and their secret of non—violence. It was even seriously suggested that all visitors, including professional researchers, were ushered into jungle “concentration camps” where brainwashed Temiar, speaking through government interpreters, denied all knowledge of a dream control cul­ture. Great care was taken, so the story went, to see that outsiders never penetrated to the hidden remnant of Temiar/Senoi who had escaped from government surveillance to keep their traditions alive in the jungle depths.


When all such wish—fulfillment fantasies had been exposed as nonsense — and we can personally attest to the fact that there are no brainwashed Temiar living in concentration camps, and that anyone who is seriously interested can visit the deepest jungle villages without finding any trace of dream control — the armchair romantics progressed to stage 2. It is wicked, they now argue, to impugn the scientific reputations of these two great anthropologists, Pat Noone and Kilton Stewart, and their classic research of the 1930s; if contemporary Temiar don’t practice dream manipulation, it must mean that their ancient culture has been destroyed by modernization.


Well, we have now spent over a year in Mala­ysia, living and working in Temiar villages without any government interpreters to distort the record of officials whose presence might have imposed inhibitions, and it would be hard to imagine a people more dedicated to pre­serving their traditions intact despite all the changes going on around them. We spent night after night listening to tales of olden days or joining in their frequent trance/dance sessions in which dream—inspired songs are used to call spirits, and our welcome would have been short—lived had we not scrupulously observed their time—hallowed rituals and taboos. We made a special point of talking to elders who could recall the 1930s, and one of than, who actually told his dreams to Noone and Stewart, became a key informant in our investigations. We also sought out the dreamers named by Stewart in his PhDthesis, finding two of them still living and inter­viewing the families of others.


Sadly, we must report that not a single Temiar recalled any form of dream control education in childhood or any such practice amongst adults; in fact they vehemently denied that dream manipulation has ever been part of their culture. And dreams play such an integral part in their whole religious life that we cannot conceive of a major dream—practice being allowed to fade into oblivion when the religion itself is so very much alive. There is an elaborate Temiar lore for interpreting dreams as warnings or concerns (though only the shaman’s interpretations have ever been given serious credence), and great heed has always been paid to anyone receiving a song or dance in dreams, for this indicates the emergence of a new shaman to invoke spurts for healing or protection of the village.


But no—one, absolutely no-one, would ever have presumed to ask for, still less demand, such a gift from a dream—character, as Western “Senoi dream theory” advocates. This would be high heresy for Temiar religion, in which the gunig or protective spirit always chooses its human vehicle and would be repelled by any hint of coersion; in fact the Temiar abhor coersion of any kind, dreaming or waking. They dismiss as nonsense the idea that children can be trained to confront hostile dream—characters, and boggle at the idea of converting such a figure into a gunig by fighting or killing it. On a more mundane level, they deny any tradition of offering gifts the next day to neighbors who have threatened or attacked them in dreams, and they can make no sense of the notion that sex dreams “should” always end in orgasn. For some Temiar, indeed, succumbing to sex in a dream is interpreted as seduction by a bad spirit, and all our informants insisted that incestuous dream sex pretends disaster. Norm­ally a good sex dream is either taken lit­erally or interpreted as a kill in tomorrow’s hunt.


Another point we took special pains to probe was whether Temiar culture had ever given any place to what is now in the West called dream lucidity, awareness within a dream that one is dreaming. We framed our questions very care­fully (an essential precaution in any invest­igation like this) and were interested to find that many Temiars, and notably all our shaman informants, understood at once what we were asking. In other words, they had no diffi­culty in grasping that one might have such awareness in a dream — but they emphatically denied that it played any part in their trad­ition. As one old and reputedly powerful tiger—shaman put it, when a dream character speaks or touches you in a song, it seems at the time like an ordinary person or animal (and as we all know, there is nothing odd about animals speaking in dreams). Only on waking is the figure interpreted as a spirit guide, and waking interpretation — dismissed as irrelevant by many Western dream advocates

—        is central to all Temiar dream lore.


As more and more evidence along these lines reaches Western literature (and there is plenty more still to come), True Believers are moving to stage 3 — “Why all the fuss? Does it matter what these little people in Malaysia do or did? They have served, through the writings of Stewart and others, to provide an inspiring myth of noble savages from whom the West might learn the art of self-improvement through dream manipulation. Now that we’ve gotten started, and have found that the techniques work for us, we can conveniently dump the real Senoi.”


Perhaps, if you’ve no qualms of conscience about committing intellectual genocide — but in any event we must put a ban on the misuse of their name, which proponents of dream control seem reluctant to do. Just enclosing the word “Senoi” in inverted commas isn’t good enough, for the real Senoi have a real dream culture of which they are very proud, and they become quite indignant when they hear their name identified with concepts utterly alien from their own. Some smart leaders even suggested to us that their newly—formed tribal association could sue, or perhaps insist on a royalty from every book or workshop that takes their name in vain! Meanwhile, writings are already in the pipeline, from ourselves and others, which will bring real Senoi dream culture firmly into Western literature, nothing but confusion can come from retaining the name for psychological techniques invented in America. Howard Revic’s term “American Senoi dreamwork” must surely be the ultimate confusion and the deepest ethnic insult, for the values of real Senoi dream culture are poles apart from the self—improvement cults of the contemporary West.


The argument that the word “Senoi” is so firmly entrenched in the literature as a synonym of dream control that it will have to stay is sheer evasion. There is still time to set the record straight, and we shall see that it is done in the new editions of Ann’s books Dream Power and The Dream Game — in fact this was the main reason why we took time out to visit Malaysia. Meanwhile perhaps readers of Lucidity Letter could suggest an alternative term. “Stewart dreamwork” has already been suggested, but this too could be misleading for many ideas found in modern so—called Senoi dream workshops have little connection with his writings. (The puzzle of how Stewart reached his conclusions is another fascinating story, to be told elsewhere in due course.) Probably the only truly honest way out will be for every group leader to take personal responsibility for whatever techniques he or she wishes to promote, and let them stand entirely on their own feet.


As for real Senoi dream culture, we believe it will be of far more than academic interest in the West, precisely because it involves concepts quite different from those of contemporary psychology. While we ourselves do not yet understand fully the experiential meaning of the communion with nature—spirits which the Senoi claim to enjoy in their dreams and trances/dances, still less what these spirits “really” mean in psychological or theological terms, there seems no doubt that the shaman, and through him the rest of the people, can tune in to the natural environment in subtle ways quite unknown to most Westerners notable exception seems to have been William Blake who anticipated Senoi shamanism in his vision of nature’s “fearful symmetry” as a tiger burning in the forests of the night.) We both had many dreams of strange mystical intensity while living in the jungle, convincing us that these gentle people and their strange religion had touched off some long— neglected faculty for “spiritual communion” with nature. And is it not just some such faculty, rather than more techniques of control, which is essential to save our planet from destruction?



Lucidity Letter Back Issues, Vol. 3, No. 1, March, 1984, page 79.


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Jayne Gackenbach

University of Northern Iowa


Prevalence, how many people have ever had at leastone lucid dream; and frequency, how often does an individual experience these dreams are two ways of conceptualizing lucid dreaming incidence. Seven surveys have attempted to ascertain the prevalence of lucid dreaming in both student (Palmer, 1979; LaBerge, in press; Gackenbach, Rokes, Sachau & Synder, 1984) and adult (Palmer, 1979; Kohr, 1980; Blackmore, in press; Gackenbach, 1978; Gackenbach, Curren, LaBerge, Davidson & Maxwell, 1983) samples. Among the latter estimates of having had at least one lucid dreamrange from 100% (Gackenbach et al., 1983) to 47% (Blackmore, in press). Both sample characteristic considerations and understanding of the concept clarify the picture. Kohr (1980), Gackenbach (1978) and Gackenbach et al. (1983) were all dealing with highly motivated adult samples. That is, people who have an unusually high interest in dreaming and/or lucid dreaming. Thus their estimates tend to run high (Kohr, 70%; Gackenbach, 76%; Gackenbach et al., 100%). In the Palmer (1979) and Blackmore (in press) surveys, adults were randomly chosen from the telephone directory in the case of the former and from the electoral register in the case of the latter. Consequently, their estimates are considerably more conservative: Palmer, 55% and Blackmore, 47%. However, there is no indication that they attempted to verify that their respondents understood the concept.


LaBerge (in press) and Gackenbach, Hieilman, Boyt and LaBerge (in press) have pointed out that when subjects are asked to supply a lucid dream, incidence rates drop dramatically due to the subjects’ confusion over the definition of dream lucidity. For instance, LaBerge reported a drop in incidence of subjects reporting at least one lucid dream during their lifetime from 85% to 77% while Gackenbach (in press) lost 344 of 707 subjects because their dream transcripts were judged to be either clearly not a lucid dream, ques­tionably lucid, or partially lucid.


As with adults the range of prevalence estimates for students is wide, from 85% (LaBerge, in press) to 57.5% (Gackenbach et al., 1984). In a randomly chosen sample Palmer (1979) reported 71.5% prevalence but did not verify understanding, while LaBerge (in press) found a 77% prevalence with verification but his sample was not random (i.e., students enrolled in a sleep and dreams class). Gackenbach et al’s (1984) estimate of prevalence, 57.5%, in a student sample is the most accurate as their sample was chosen randomly from Introductory Psychology classes and they verified the understanding of the concept by potential research participants by collecting lucid dream transcripts and having them evaluated by independent judges.


Frequency, as another incidence indicate, has been conceptualized in two ways: self— reported and percentage of lucid dreams from collected dream diaries compiled either in the laboratory or at home. Only self—report and at home dream diary estimates are reported herein. As with prevalence, considerations of sample characteristics and verification of understanding impact estimates of self— reported frequency. Hearne’s (1978; 1983) two samples were all lucid dreamers, so relative individual frequency in a normal population cannot be estimated from his data.


Estimates of experiencing dream lucidity more than once per month range from 13.5% (Gackenbach et al., 1984) to 28.5% (Palmer, 1979). One or more per lifetime, but less than once per month, estimates range from 36.55% (Gackenbach et al., 1984) to 60% (Gackenbach, 1978). When broken down by type of sample, high interest dream recalling adults were tapped by Gackenbach (1978; once per month 16%; once per lifetime=60%) and Kohr (1980; once per month 2l%; once per lifetime = 49%), while Palmer (1979) randomly sampled adults and found 13.5% reported such dreams once per month, while another 41% said that they had them rarely. Understandably the Kohr and Gackenbach figures are higher than the Palmer estimates with the latter being more accurate. However, Palmer did not verify understanding so his figures may also be inflated.


Of the three student samples upon which this work has been reported, two verified under­standing (Gackenbach et al., in press; LaBerge, in press) and two were randomly selected (Gackenbach et al. , in press; Palmer, 1979), but only one filled both criteria (Gackenbach et al. , in press). They report that 20.75% of their sample reported lucid dreaming once or more per month while 36.55% reported it more than once in a lifetime but less than monthly.


Two studies considered frequency by counting lucid dreams in a dream log. In a high inter­est adult sample with control for under­standing, Gackenbach, Curren, LaBerge, David­son, and Maxwell (1983) found a frequency of 13% lucid dreams in their dream logs kept for seven to ten days or an average of one in eight days. The exact same percentage was reported by Gackenbach, Curren and Cutler (1983) in a more normative sample, i.e., college students, also controlled for under­standing and they note, “of the 1601 dreams recorded by the 320 students over a 16—week period of once weekly recordings, 349 were lucid and 1252 were vivid. However, if the dreamer did not provide a verifiable lucid dream transcript either early or late in the semester, the lucid dreams they experienced were deleted. Consequently, 211 lucid dreams remained (p.7).”


In conclusion, the best estimate of prevalence is that about 58% of the population have experienced a lucid dream at least once in their lifetime while about 21% report it with some frequency (one or more per month). Add­itionally, 13% of dreams recalled on the morning after and recorded in dream diaries are likely to be lucid.





Blackmore, S.J. (in press) A postal survey of OBEs and other experiences. Journal

   of the Society for Psychical Research.


Gackenbach, J.I. (1978) A personality and cognitive style analysis of lucid

   dreaming. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Virginia Commonwealth University.


Gackenbach, J.I.. Curren, R., & Cutler, G. (1983) Presleep determinants and

   post—sleep results of lucid versus vivid dreams. Paper presented at the annual

   meeting of the American Association for the Study of Mental Imagery, Vancouver,



Gackenbach, J.I., Curren, R. LaBerge, S., Davidson, D. & Maxwell, P. (1983)

   Intelligence, creativity, and personality differences between individuals who

   vary in self-reported lucid dreaming frequency. Paper presented at the annual

   meeting of American Association for the Study of Mental Imagery, Vancouver,



Gackenbach, J.I., Heilman, N., Boyt, S., LaBerge, S. (in press) The relationship

   between field independence and lucid dreaming ability. Journa1_of Mental



Gackenbach, J.I.. Rokes, L., Sachau, D., Snyder, T.J. (1984) Relationship of the

   lucid dreaming ability to vestibular sensitivity as measured by caloric

   nystagmus. Manuscript under editorial consideration.


Hearne, K.M.T. (1978)Lucid dreams: electrophysiological and psychological

   study.  Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Liverpool.


Hearne, K.M.T. (1983) Features of lucid dreams: Questionnaire data and content

   analyses (1). Journal of Lucid Dream Research, 1(1), 3—20.


Kohr, R.L. (1980) A survey of psi experiences among members of a special population.

   The Journal of the American Society for Psychical Research, 74, 295—411.


LaBerge, S.P. (in press) Awake in your dreams: The new world of lucid dreaming.

   New York, Simon and Schuster.


Palmer, J. (1974) A community mail survey of psychic experiences. Research in

   Parapsychology, 3, 130—133.



Lucidity Letter Back Issues, Vol. 3, No. 1, March, 1984, page 81.


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Charles T. Tart

University of’ California at Davis


George Gillespie, writing in the November 1983 issue of the Lucidity Letter, describes his “lucid dreaming” as including the knowledge that he is dreaming while he is dreaming, but without his consciousness being more like his ordinary waking state than like his ordinary dreaming state (Gillespie, 1983). He asks the question whether his dreaming is lucid by my definition of lucid dreaming: “Lucid dreams are those in which the dreamer is aware that he is dreaming, clearly recalls his waking life and considers himself to be in full command of his intellectual and motivational abilities.”1


By this definition Gillespie’s dreams are not lucid. In my “From Spontaneous Event to lucidity...” review (Tart, 1979) I put great emphasis on the fact that knowing that you are dreaming while you are dreaming is a necessary but not a sufficient criterion for labeling a dream “lucid.” The full definition of a lucid dream given in that review article (p. 255) is, “Lucid dreaming is an altered d-SoC (discrete state of consciousness) characterized by the lucid dreamer experiencing himself as located in a world or environment that he intellectually knows is “unreal” (or certainly not ordinary physical reality) while simultaneously experiencing the overall quality of his consciousness as having clarity, the lucidity of his ordinary waking d-SoC.”


This is not to say that Gillespie’s dreams are not of interest: far from it. Since Frederick van Eeden (in Tart, 1969) coined the term “lucid dreaming,” however, and since he characterized his dream consciousness as more liking waking than dreaming, I think we owe it to van Eeden to reserve the term “lucid dream” for this sort of event, not for any dream in which there is only knowledge that one is dreaming. I shall propose the new term, “dreaming—awareness dreams” to describe ordinary dreams that include some concurrent awareness that one is dreaming, but where this awareness is not accompanied by a shift in conciousness to the altered state of lucid



The importance of making this distinction will depend on whether lucid dreams and dreaming—awareness dreams ultimately turn out to be part of a continuum of dreaming consciousness or whether lucid dreams (and perhaps dreaming—awareness dreams) are qualitatively different in important respects from ordinary dreaming. Insofar lucid dreams and dreaming—awareness dreams are qualitatively different from each other and/or from ordinary dreams, it is vitally important to distinguish them in studies which attempt to correlate various psychological and personal qualities with the occurrence or qualities of lucid dreaming.


For example, Gillespie refers to a study of “lucid dreaming” by Gackenbach in which the questionnaire used defined lucid dreaming simply as “awareness of dreaming while in the dream state.” Given our discussion, this may actually be a study of a mixture, in unknown proportions, of people who have had genuine lucid dreams and people who have never had lucid dreams, but have had dream—awareness dreams. By mixing apples and oranges, poss­ible correlations of either type of dream with psychological factors way have been confused and diluted beyond the point of detectibility.


Now my definition of lucid dreaming above, based on van Eeden and my own researches, is a first attempt to clarify an experience that is rather exotic by our cultural norms. That is why I defined the overall quality of lucid dream consciousness as being like ordinary consciousness. This is a good definition given what we know now. If we have the kind of progress in understanding consciousness that I hope we will have, I believe that this definition will be seen as rather crude within the decade.


I doubt very much that lucid dreams are exactly like ordinary consciousness in their quality of consciousness. Ordinary con­sciousness varies in its qualities from moment to moment, especially if you have short samp­les of it. It is useful to say I am in my “ordinary” state of consciousness now, just as I was an hour ago, but I am sure a two minute sample of my consciousness an hour ago would be different in important ways from a two minute sample of my consciousness taken right now. Lucid dreaming also varies in its qual­ities from moment to moment. We do not know enough in detail about either state to do more than give overall characterizations at pre­sent.


BUT, we can be reasonably clear in our initial definitions in our writings and in presenting questions to subjects, and thus eliminate sane unnecessary confusion. This is a plea to writers and researchers then: use “lucid dreaming” the way van Eeden used it, and use some distinct term(s) for other, interesting dreams that do not meet that definition of lucidity. Otherwise we will waste a lot of time trying to reconcile results from differ­ent studies that were all supposedly about “lucid dreams,” but which were actually about different things.




Gillespie, G. (1983) Memory and reason in lucid dreams: A personal observation.

    Lucidity Letter, 2, (4), 8—9.


Tart, C. (1979) From spontaneous event to lucidity: A review of attempts to

    consciously control nocturnal dreaming. In B. Wolman, H. Ullman, & W. Webb

    (Eds.), Handbook of Dreams: Research, Theories and Applications. New York:

    Van Nostrand Reinhold, pp. 226—268.


Tholey, P. (1983) Relation between dream content and eye movements tested by lucid

    dreams. Perceptual and Motor Skills, 56, 875—878.


van Eeden, F. (1969) A study of dreams. In C. Tart (Ed.), Altered States of

    Consciousness. New York: Wiley, pp. 145—157.



1. This definition is attributed by Gillespie to me, with his referenced source being an article of Tholey’s (1983). I cannot find any statement of mine exactly like this in the referenced article (Tart, 1979), so it is not a direct quote, but it is generally repre­sentative of my thinking.


Lucidity Letter Back Issues, Vol. 3, No. 1, March, 1984, page 82.


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Edith Gilmore

Concord, Massachusetts


Some years ago I had my first lucid dream after having learned that such a phenomenon does exist. I have since then recorded such dreams; some of them share traits described in such literature as I have read. Others have aspects that I have not seen described.


I have experienced the traditional false awakening, the dream within a dream, End what I think is also fairly typical, the attempt to retain the memory of the experience by des­cribing or recording it, usually in an ordinary dream state subsequent to the lucid interval. For instance, in a long dream sequence I was once accompanied by an acq­uaintance I had lost track of in waking life. She was by profession a reporter, and as we rode a dream train together, I looked out the windows on one side, and requested her to check the scenery on her side.


Like others, I find the experience positive, with a sense of a joyous altered state of consciousness during the dream. I customarily wake with a cheerful “afterglow” that carries through the day.


And like others I do carry out “experiments” in the dream, though I am usually too happy and fascinated to be systematic. Food often appears. If I eat it, trying deliberately to see how “real” it is, I find that I get some sense of the texture——of a slice of bread for instance——but the actual taste tends to be vague and elusive. Though visual impressions are vivid and lovely, and I do hear words or music, I cannot ever remember experiencing smell.


Like many lucid dreamers I have some ability to control or alter the environment, though I have not made many such attempts. When I once tried to change a dark night time sky to a light one, I did not get, as I hoped, daylight; instead stars came out in the night sky, providing dim illumination. This rather joking “response” is typical of a playful element in my dreams, sometimes tending to the prankish or clownish.


A trait that I and others have noted is the “odd” or incongruous detail that triggers off or at least, accompanies, the awareness of lucidity. In an ordinary dream, I approach my waking life front door, holding a child by the hand. But my door has a carved surround which does not exist in waking life. I note the surround, say, “Oh this is lucid,” and taking the child’s hand, I say “Let’s try flying,” and we rise into the air. This ability to fly, is, of course, typical, but I’ve never achieved any very extensive soarings.


A paradoxical aspect of my dreams is the combination of solidity and flimsiness in the surroundings. That is, massive buildings of stone, or stony urban settings, are very typical. They are, in a way, much more solid or impressive than the settings of ordinary dreams, and yet they have a kind of “stagy” unreal quality to them. It is as it the dream manufacturer were trying to convince me of the reality of what I see. And yet once viewing a row of very solid houses, built against each other, no spaces in between, I had some sense of “nothingness” behind them.


In a very curious dream I once registered at a hotel and went upstairs in an elevator that was missing one side. I entered a room which was crowded with partying people, though my “business” was with only a couple of those present. The other guests were more like a part of the setting, but what I noted as odd was that two or three of them in the background consisted of a greyish, almost misty stuff which formed the shapes of featureless heads, necks, shoulders, like a kind of ectoplasm. This, together with the missing elevator side, seems to suggest that the dream--creating power was in a hurry, and didn’t get around to completing the elevator or the guests. But the bizarre implication seems to be that of a kind of neutral, basic dream “material” out of which the specific images are formed.


I had often recorded a doubling phenomenon, as for instance a dream in which I stand in a narrow passage and am aware of two identical library rooms, one on each side. I was there—fore much interested to read in Patricia Garfield’s Pathway to Ecstacy that she often experiences a doubling not only of image but of process, a movie starts over, a story is repeated. In a short paper on this subject Dream Network Bulletin (DNB), I spec­ulate to whether this might have something to do with the two halves of the brain, or with the sensation of being in both a physical and a dream body. However, if this were so, then might one not expect doubling to occur in non-lucid dreams also? If it does, I have not seen any account of it.


I also contributed an essay to the DNB called “Continuity in a Lucid Dream”. In this I describe four lucid dreams I had in one night. Between each was an interval of either ordinary dreaming or of wakefulness. What struck me was that the four lucid dreams were connected and that the “plot” had progressed during my absences. It was like waking in and out of a theater performance, except that I continued, in some sense, to be simultaneously an actor in the play. Each of the four lucid episodes was initiated by the tingling physical sensation which many lucid dreamers have noted.


I have not experimented very much with the various induction methods, but have found that almost any form of preoccupation with lucid dreaming tends to increase the number of such dreams. This was the case when I was translating some German material on the subject, and also dramatically the case when for some weeks I met regularly with a group of people interested in developing their capacity for lucid dreaming.




Garfield, P. (1979) Pathway to Ectasy. N.Y.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston.


Lucidity Letter Back Issues, Vol. 3, No. 1, March, 1984, page 84.


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Two symposia are scheduled thus far this summer on lucid dreaming:


1. LaBerge,S.P., Gackenbach, .J.I., Delaney, G. & Tart, C. Lucid dreams. Symposium to be presented at the annual meeting of the Association for the Study of Dreams, San Francisco, June 1984.


2. Gackenbach, J.I. (chair), Dane, I., Hunt, H., Gillespie, G. & Schwartz, W. Lucid dreams: Induction and content. Symposium to be presented at the annual meeting of the Eastern Psychological Association, Baltimore, April 1984.


Additionally, papers have been submitted and may be presented on dream lucidity at the annual meetings of the European Sleep Congress, Munich, September 1984; the Day of Dreaming satellite symposium for the Sleep Research Society, Toronto, June 1984; and the American Psychological Association, Toronto, August 1984.




Each issue of Lucidity Letter contains references on dream lucidity. The complete bibliography can be obtained upon request.


Gackenbach, .J.I. & LaBerge, S.M. (in press) An overview of lucid dreaming. In A.

   Sheikh (Ed.), International Review of Mental

   Imagery (Vol. 2).N.Y.: Human Sciences Press.


LaBerge, S.M. & Gackenbach, .J.I. (in press) Lucid dreaming. In B.B. Wolman and

   M. Ullman (Eds.), Handbook of Altered States of Consciousness, N.Y.: Van

   Nostrand Reinhold.


Malamud, J. Becoming lucid in dreams and waking life. In B.B. Wolman and M. Ullman

   (Eds.), Handbook of Altered States of Consciousness, N.Y.: Van Nostrand



Tholey, P. (1983) Techniques for inducing and manipulating lucid dreams. Perceptual

   and Motor Skills, 57, 79—90.




Robert VandeCastle, professor of Behavioral Medicine and Psychiatry at the University of Virginia School of Medicine, writes that he has recently completed a videomovie entitled “I Must Be Dreaming”. It has a purchase price of $50.00 and is available from Productions, LTD., P.O. Box 79014, Charlottesville, VA 22906.







Please enclose $10 and return to Dr. Jayne Gackenbach, Department of Psychology, University of Northern Iowa, Cedar Falls, Iowa 5O614 for all, issues of 1984.



Lucidity Letter Back Issues, Vol. 3, No. 1, March, 1984, page 85.


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