the most beautiful scenery. It always starts the same way: I begin to rock gently to and fro, or my body seems to rotate gently. Then, as the arc of rocking, or rotating, grows larger, the speed increases. When I reach an angle of about forty-five degrees, the thing happens.

I do not encourage such dreams; there seems to be no rhyme or reason for their occurrence, but they happen at infrequent intervals. Sometimes I am definitely aiming for a certain destination; only once have I reached the destination I was aiming for. After a time the power seems to give out, and slowly at first, then more rapidly, I am drawn back until I hit the inert body on the bed, and then I am awake.

It has no special significance, except that in all experiences of that kind—some of them a little different—the sensation is always a powerful electrical feeling. Here’s another one: One night I was standing outside a locked door. On the other side was something I wanted very, very intensely. I had to get to it. So I knew I could, and this is how I did it.

I concentrated with all my power on the spot on the other side of the door, corresponding with the spot where I stood. And in a few seconds I was raised gently from the floor and seemed to expand. At the same time the door seemed to expand, so that I floated through, head first, flat on my back, much as steam would float through the mesh of a screen. All the time I was very conscious of the fact that not for a second dare I relax my concentration; that I must keep my mind on it so that I could “reassemble” myself on the other side; which I did. But the sensation was as if I were holding tight to a powerful battery.