The Infallibility Of The Dreamer

Exploring the subconscious through yoga nidra.

Collage by Author | “The First Dreamscape” - Jada De Luca (2024)

Dreams resurface in the waking world like the lightning strike of deja vu; resonating like the microwave going off after failing to heat the middle of my leftovers… ding!

And suddenly I am remembering and reminiscing on a requiem that doesn’t feel as familiar or as lively as it should. If I had dreamt it, why did feel like so… distant? I think of the mere glance I took across the street at someone that used to play a major part in my life and now doesn’t exist in it at all– how the song Somebody That I Used To Know makes me feel; there isn’t radio silence, but simply the lack of necessity to say anything at all. The leftovers start looking dubious. My fork almost snaps when I stab the cold-hearted middle.

There is a murky distance between my conscious and subconscious, and my dreams are an iceberg that simply refuses to thaw. I dream; I forget; I fail to remember; I live. I tell myself that I will keep a journal on my bedside table and rush myself into writing down pages upon waking, but it instead remains abandoned like a promised altar that has outgrown worship. Instead, the notebook gets used as something to scribble on whilst I take calls past my bedtime and update my writer friends in opposite time zones on my (abhorrent) dating life.

The journal is a futile wish. The wish to write about something I can’t remember is naive. But the thought occurred to me: what would bridging the gap between memory and dream unlock for my creative mind? What crystalline water is revealed when the ice melts?

Yoga nidra is a way to de-thaw our dreams and seek out an inner alcove of perspective. It is in the dreamscape where our subconscious unfolds.

Looking at my dreams from a third person point of view revokes my omniscience, but what yoga nidra does so well is that it reinstates the infallibility of the dreamer; the right we have to conjure images in our mind and claim it as our own– the privilege to remember.

The dreamscape is akin to twilight; a hazy transition, a temporal destination, a reservation of the subliminal, a threshold between waking and sleeping. The cusp of shifting between our conscious and subconscious allow us to shift into a state of conjuration. This is where dreams flourish, and where they are immortalised.

An Introduction To Yoga Nidra

Exploring dreams whilst awake

“Rest in the sand, nestle in.”

Tania’s narration ebbs and flows like a waning tide, waxing like the moon, drifting in and out. Yoga nidra is a form of guided meditation, and her words herald a gentle instruction that I heed with reverence.

“Surrender to the mat.”

Renouncing the clutter of life wills my eyes closed as she guides me through a scan of my entire body. I become acutely aware that when I marry my forefinger and thumb, pressing the two faces together, my pulse beats through their joining, chasing a loop through my hand like yearning drums. She guides me in this intimate way through every single part of my body.

Denouncing reality invites silence. The sounds of Tania’s backyard, the rustle of her fingers against the pages of the book, the birdsong, the flourish of trees with the undercurrent of a passing wind, the far away traffic, the neighbour’s dog… All of it retires behind the colourful dots on the back of my eyelids until there is only blank darkness and the sound of her voice.

In this chamber, where all senses are revoked, all that is required of me is to focus on the breath. This dark echo chamber is the birthplace of my dreaming, the arising of the twilight. As I fall into my breaths, the chamber expands, my consciousness stretches before dissipating, and I enter the subconscious realm.

This is my first dreamscape; a realm of my choosing; a perfect, sublime dreaming.

The First Dreamscape

On Remembering

“Yoga Nidra has begun.”

The water sings. The sounds of reality shut off like a city losing power until I can hear the ringing between my ears. Focusing on the sound of the breath has a way of severing ties with reality until I’m surrounded by what feels like an echo chamber huffing back at me. Thrum, thrum, thrum. There is a small electric current that marbles in my veins, a buzzing as if I’d been ejected out of my own body.

This dreaming chamber is hazy and foggy, with a crystalline pool spread taught that deepens on the horizon, reflecting a shining, tall, ornate mirror in the water; I step through the archway and into the dream.

Stepping out of the portal, I feel the cool sensation of sand not yet warmed by sunlight slip between my toes. When the portal dissipates into thin air, I lose my footing and fall backwards into a grand, swooping dune. The curvature of sand is as imposing as a kingdom, a deep crescent hug, a curved antechamber that wraps around the shore and reflects the twilight. It is as if an hourglass has broken, and I am settling into layers of time left to roam freely. I am lying languid and malleable, formed by the shifting tides of desert.

Sinking further and further, I look down at the shore as the water flirts and breaks against it– galloping, crashing, spreading. The moon hangs like a bull’s horn on a mantle of hazy, blue-gray sky.

“State your intention.”

I tell the moon three times with a confidence that is unyielding, an inspiration that is preserving. I feel no need to descend into the water, simply using this dreamscape to remain perched in contemplation at the top of the crater, palming at sand and holding it up in reverence to the incomplete moon; she who looks upon me with a half lidded gaze and eons of wisdom. My palms are open and skyward in offering, grasping at the air and curling my fingertips as if I could yield the elements. In turn, the breeze pushes the sand through my grasp as easily as a whisper swept up by the wind.

Releasing the outcome, the twilight unveils my deepest desires and manifestations and lets it fester in between my conscious and subconscious– the fleeting nature when time doesn’t commit to the present and my breath stagnates.

The esteemed sky goddess wills me to wake and to continue dreaming.

“Yoga Nidra has finished.” Tania’s voice echoes. “Return to your body.”

I remember the dream, because the whole time, I was actually awake.

The ice melts, I reach for the dream journal. The altar is alight.

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Eclectic Creative is the newsletter to read with your morning coffee or evening tea. Writer and creative freelancer Jada De Luca grapples with a small corner of the internet, shaping it into a celestial creative non-fiction realm that is dedicated to her favourite topics and ever expansive creativity.

If you are interested in art, writing, spirituality, tarot, travel, and books, you are warmly invited to enjoy Eclectic Creative weekly.

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About The Writer

Jada De Luca doesn’t go anywhere without her kindle and interprets tarot cards for the spiritually curious. She is a long time writer and in-house collage witch for the Aussie based travel publication Astray, best known for her piece The Writer’s Routine.

Jada tells stories through an eclectic mix of both written and visual narration, creating magical, surreal, and intensely personal landscapes for her audiences.

About Positive Me Positive You

Jada has started taking classes at Tania Kuba’s yoga shala under the name Positive Me Positive You. It is a holistic wellness space where yoga is taught with compassion and massage services are provided to restore, reset & rekindle the body.

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I am always looking to connect with other artists, writers, and fellow magical moonbeams. If you enjoy my work, I encourage you to save, share, and don’t forget to tag me! (@fujijada)

My Instagram is @fujijada. Art is shared, life is documented, and DM’s are treated as delicately as hand-delivered letters.

For book recommendations and the occasional review, or if you want to read along with me, please refer to my Goodreads.

If you’re curious about my creative services, I am experienced in creative advertising, content creation, copywriting, website design, art direction & surrealist collage art. Peep the website for more info.

The collage artwork that accompanies a lot of my writing here is created by me. Want some art to hang above your altar, stick on your fridge, display in your home or gift to a lover? My enquiries are open!

And if all of the above appeals to you, shoot me an email directly at deluca.jada@gmail.com.

In the meantime,

Lots of love,

Jada