Usually, like everyone,
I forget my dreams. When I’m suddenly woken up, for example, by an alarm
clock or by my cellphone ringing, it seems—I’m not quite sure if this is
what is happening, but it’s the explanation that seems most likely—it
seems as if the last fifteen seconds of mental imagery are still “in my
loop” when I wake up, so I remember them too, just as if they were lucid.
So the memory I actually have is of waking up, and then five seconds or
fifteen seconds later, the phone rings. With an experience like that,
it’s easy to see why anyone less than a dedicated rationalist would assume
psychic powers; “Oh, look, I become lucid fifteen seconds before the
phone rings, I must be psychic”.
Sometimes I’ll even apparently remember
that I have a dream in which an alarm goes off in my dream, which wakes me
up, and then five seconds later the alarm goes off.
One needs to have done
quite a lot of reading in cognitive science before one looks at that and
says, “Timing fault in memory formation—yes, the brain really is that
fragile”, and not “I had a precognitive dream.”
This led me to ponder the problem of dream memories and personal
continuity. I now remember having experiences that I would not remember
if I had not been woken up by an alarm clock; I remember those apparently
lucid dream experiences, and those “inserted” memories, as if they were
part of my ordinary life continuity. What happens to the person who
experiences the dreams I have and don’t remember? Did I really
experience the dream of the alarm going off, or was the memory
manufactured and inserted without ever being experienced? Are all
dreams manufactured and inserted without ever being experienced?
This is where we stand at the moment I had my anthropic dream.
My cellphone rang and woke me up. I apparently remembered becoming lucid
in my dream a few seconds before the cellphone woke me. And my “inserted”
dream experience leading up to the cellphone ringing was the thought:
“If
I don’t wake up now, this experience will not have existed in retrospect.
Therefore, since I’m now having this experience, something will wake me up.”
Now, what this feels like is this:
You’re dreaming, and your dream turns lucid, and you think to yourself:
“If I don’t wake up now, this experience won’t have existed in retrospect.
Therefore, since I’m having this experience, something will wake me up.”
And then, a moment later, the cellphone rings and wakes you up.
The illusion of a spooky anthropic effect was very strong.
A few times I’ve had a dream that I woke outside the Matrix. The dreams lasted only for a few seconds, but it was a strong experience, more so because I haven’t had a sleep paralysis before.
Sometimes I’ll even apparently remember that I have a dream in which an alarm goes off in my dream, which wakes me up, and then five seconds later the alarm goes off.
When I set my alarm, I routinely (almost infallibly unless I set it for before 5:00 am) wake up before the alarm and turn it off before it has a chance to ring. I simply hate being woken by an alarm so much that I keep track of the time, even while asleep, in order to prevent such a traumatic experience from occurring.
It might be that you really were dreaming about your alarm going off before it actually went off, due to anticipation.
I’ve had the same type of experience as the first part (usually for me, there is something like a countdown to a big event, and then my alarm goes off right on schedule), and had came to about the same conclusion. I hadn’t read about cognitive science and memory at this point, instead my thought process was along these lines: Well, it’s extremely unlikely that I can actually predict the future, so something else must be going on. The only thing that even makes sense is that this apparent “memory” was somehow filled in after the fact.
Also, am I correct in assuming that the second half of this comment is about a spooky moment of confusion, and does not reflect your current beliefs?
I suspect my brain likes to play nasty tricks on me. During the 3 years I worked at call centers, I became very conscious of the time of the day because our shifts were strictly monitored. I had to be logged on to the phone by an exact time. I remember there was a month when I had little sleep and suddenly I no longer heard the alarm clock. It felt like my brain was telling me, “Either you give me enough hours to sleep, or I won’t let you wake up in time.”
Now I’m at a different job, much less strict in matters of shift hours, but still I carry the sense that arriving late is shameful. Now my brain’s favorite prank is to spontaneously make me wake up in the early morning. At that moment I’ve no idea whether I really heard the alarm clock or I overslept, so I look for the clock nervously, and it turns out it’s 4:58 AM. My alarm clock is set for 5:00 AM. I get angry at my brain for making me worry unnecessarily. It has done this to me at least a dozen times in the past couple months.
It’s amazing, I’ve had the same anthropic dream a couple of times. But it’s spooky only in retrospect, when it happens it’s more like: “Mph, I’m going to wake up because I’ve already woken up.” It lasts very briefly, but it’s definitely something real.
(Repost of an old message I sent to SL4 in 2003.)
Usually, like everyone, I forget my dreams. When I’m suddenly woken up, for example, by an alarm clock or by my cellphone ringing, it seems—I’m not quite sure if this is what is happening, but it’s the explanation that seems most likely—it seems as if the last fifteen seconds of mental imagery are still “in my loop” when I wake up, so I remember them too, just as if they were lucid.
So the memory I actually have is of waking up, and then five seconds or fifteen seconds later, the phone rings. With an experience like that, it’s easy to see why anyone less than a dedicated rationalist would assume psychic powers; “Oh, look, I become lucid fifteen seconds before the phone rings, I must be psychic”.
Sometimes I’ll even apparently remember that I have a dream in which an alarm goes off in my dream, which wakes me up, and then five seconds later the alarm goes off.
One needs to have done quite a lot of reading in cognitive science before one looks at that and says, “Timing fault in memory formation—yes, the brain really is that fragile”, and not “I had a precognitive dream.”
This led me to ponder the problem of dream memories and personal continuity. I now remember having experiences that I would not remember if I had not been woken up by an alarm clock; I remember those apparently lucid dream experiences, and those “inserted” memories, as if they were part of my ordinary life continuity. What happens to the person who experiences the dreams I have and don’t remember? Did I really experience the dream of the alarm going off, or was the memory manufactured and inserted without ever being experienced? Are all dreams manufactured and inserted without ever being experienced?
This is where we stand at the moment I had my anthropic dream.
My cellphone rang and woke me up. I apparently remembered becoming lucid in my dream a few seconds before the cellphone woke me. And my “inserted” dream experience leading up to the cellphone ringing was the thought:
“If I don’t wake up now, this experience will not have existed in retrospect. Therefore, since I’m now having this experience, something will wake me up.”
Now, what this feels like is this:
You’re dreaming, and your dream turns lucid, and you think to yourself: “If I don’t wake up now, this experience won’t have existed in retrospect. Therefore, since I’m having this experience, something will wake me up.”
And then, a moment later, the cellphone rings and wakes you up.
The illusion of a spooky anthropic effect was very strong.
I once dreamed I was performing the quantum suicide experiment. It was discomfiting. But everything turned out fine. I woke up safe in bed...
Just what QTI would have predicted!
Make your measure small enough and you’ll probably continue by waking up in bed.
A few times I’ve had a dream that I woke outside the Matrix. The dreams lasted only for a few seconds, but it was a strong experience, more so because I haven’t had a sleep paralysis before.
When I set my alarm, I routinely (almost infallibly unless I set it for before 5:00 am) wake up before the alarm and turn it off before it has a chance to ring. I simply hate being woken by an alarm so much that I keep track of the time, even while asleep, in order to prevent such a traumatic experience from occurring.
It might be that you really were dreaming about your alarm going off before it actually went off, due to anticipation.
I’ve had the same type of experience as the first part (usually for me, there is something like a countdown to a big event, and then my alarm goes off right on schedule), and had came to about the same conclusion. I hadn’t read about cognitive science and memory at this point, instead my thought process was along these lines: Well, it’s extremely unlikely that I can actually predict the future, so something else must be going on. The only thing that even makes sense is that this apparent “memory” was somehow filled in after the fact.
Also, am I correct in assuming that the second half of this comment is about a spooky moment of confusion, and does not reflect your current beliefs?
I don’t think I was ever confused. I enjoyed the illusion.
I suspect my brain likes to play nasty tricks on me. During the 3 years I worked at call centers, I became very conscious of the time of the day because our shifts were strictly monitored. I had to be logged on to the phone by an exact time. I remember there was a month when I had little sleep and suddenly I no longer heard the alarm clock. It felt like my brain was telling me, “Either you give me enough hours to sleep, or I won’t let you wake up in time.”
Now I’m at a different job, much less strict in matters of shift hours, but still I carry the sense that arriving late is shameful. Now my brain’s favorite prank is to spontaneously make me wake up in the early morning. At that moment I’ve no idea whether I really heard the alarm clock or I overslept, so I look for the clock nervously, and it turns out it’s 4:58 AM. My alarm clock is set for 5:00 AM. I get angry at my brain for making me worry unnecessarily. It has done this to me at least a dozen times in the past couple months.
Did your eyelids have a view of a lit clock?
No.
It’s amazing, I’ve had the same anthropic dream a couple of times.
But it’s spooky only in retrospect, when it happens it’s more like: “Mph, I’m going to wake up because I’ve already woken up.”
It lasts very briefly, but it’s definitely something real.