Lucid dreaming — the art of realizing you’re dreaming and allegedly controlling the action — is one of those concepts that sounds profound until you realize it mainly involves a lot of yelling “Fly!” and waking up disappointed.
Naturally, it’s been monetized. Welcome to lucid dreaming retreats — weekend getaways where you pay hundreds of dollars to sleep badly in unusual places.
During my visit to one such retreat (purely for research purposes, of course), I spent three nights in a yurt lovingly described as “high-vibration sleeping quarters,” and participated in guided meditations featuring rainstick solos, throat singing, and whispered instructions to “find the dream bridge.”
Spoiler: no bridge appeared. Just a slightly twisted ankle after fumbling to the communal bathroom at 2 a.m.
Activities included “dream journaling circles,” “breathwork journeying,” and something called “third-eye yoga,” where we sat cross-legged while a man named River misted our faces with lavender spray and chanted about astral rivers.
By day three, most participants were either sleep-deprived, hyper-caffeinated, or busily inventing dreams about flying whales just to have something to share in the group discussion.
If you want to experience lucid dreaming, save yourself the money. Sleep in your own bed, eat a suspiciously large bowl of ice cream before bed, and watch what happens.
Much cheaper. Far less lavender.