It was accidental. I was in my local theological library, rooting around in the dusty stacks for images of talisman and magical objects from the Middle Ages.
The history of talisman is amazing and would make for one sweet coffee table book. There’s magical objects for every purpose, every occasion, sort of like the state of apps for smartphones today. Anyhow, I came across reference to a 1910 article describing a modern (late 19th century) Hebrew talisman described as “Kabbalistic.”
I was piqued so I downloaded the article. I was delighted to read the translation, “In the name of the angels of the God (of Israel) I conjure you all kinds of Lilin, male and female, and Demons, male and female by the power of the holy Name.”
Lilin are a host of night demons that are first mentioned in Babylonian seals some eighteen hundred years before the Common Era. Much, much later came the Judaic tradition of Lilith: the owl-footed half human demoness who steals upon men at night and sexually assaults them in order to create demon-human hybrid babies.

Lilith and Lilin were blamed for the unexplained death of infants at night (probably related to what we call SIDS today)… and also for the terrible plague of supernatural assault that was termed the Incubus in the middle ages.
Holy cow, I realized, this could be a sleep paralysis amulet.
I reviewed my copy of Shelly Adler’s wonderful book Sleep Paralysis: Night-mares, Nocebos, and the Mind-Body Connection, where she details the connections of Lilith to our favorite night malady.
This mention from the Talmud rings with authenticity: “One must not sleep in a house alone, and whoever sleeps in a house alone is seized by Lilith.” (Adler, p. 39). This remains true today, as sleep paralysis seems to attack those who suffer from social anxiety and are in general feeling unprotected or unsafe.
Adler goes on to mention that there are also 8th century Aramaic incantation bowls with more Lilith-related spells. Soon, thanks to my trusty library that caters in old books that no one reads anymore, I had the primary source in hand, a 1913 monograph called Aramaic incantation texts from Nippur, by James Montgomery.
I hit a goldmine. These texts are riddled with references to Lilith and her consorts. These incantations bowls were placed in people’s homes, and they listed every possible demon by name, just in case. What’s more, there’s some clear indication that the demons show up in sleep and dreams.

For example, Montgomery’s bowl #8 is translated (in part) to read, “Thou, Lilin, male Lili and female Lilith, Hag and Ghoul, be in the ban of [Rabbi] Joshua.. and you should not appear to them [the married couple] either by dream at night or in slumber by day…” (Montgomery, p. 155, emphasis mine).
This text particularly shows that these creatures are connected to dreams, as well as afternoon naps, in which sleep paralysis is very common.
These bowls would be blessed by a Rabbi, and then buried upside down in the house it serves to protect.
We have barely scratched the surface of this secret history of sleep paralysis. What is clear, from my sweeping and very preliminary investigation, is that the use of ritual objects to combat sleep paralysis is a very old technique that is known as apotropia — rituals and objects that combat fear.
Apotropaic objects are historically—and cross-culturally—placed in the threshold spaces of homes and structures: above lintels in door frames, under window sills, and inside chimneys and smoke holes.
This is because thresholds, those spaces between places, have their own magic. Paradoxically, openings into the home provide the ability to move freely and welcome guests, heat our dwellings, and let in the fresh air; at the same time, they open the home to unwanted guests, foul smells and harsh elements.
Anthropologist C. Augé Riley—an expert on the archaeology of belief—suggests that thresholds have a third dimension: liminality.
As Riley puts it, supernatural forces arrive and congregate here in these spaces between, existing in a “temporal and spatial sector separate from mundane reality.”1
Therefore, liminal zones are precisely where apotropaic agents are most effective.
Hence, people have always guarded their thresholds with magical items, objects imbued with personal and cultural significance, such as horseshoes, children’s shoes, sacred words, or iron crosses.
Some more cross cultural themes include animal bones and tendons, certain stones, iron, mirrors, and dried herbs at certain times of year.
Finding amulets that work
Using amulets to protect yourself in sleep paralysis is an efficient cognitive strategy because the dreamworld is where magical thinking works. It’s the dominant logic, creating an increased fusion between subject/object that is rarely seen in the waking world.
The cognitive strategy of activating apotropaic objects is ancient, and still effective today. After all, many of our cultural narratives of the night visitors derive in part from personal experience in this vision state. Vampires and aliens hover in doorways, shadows slip in through windows, and ghostly apparitions flick and flutter on the periphery of our vision, as we struggle in paralysis, stuck in the threshold with our eyes open and a scream stuck in our throats
The trick, of course, is finding the right objects. This is a very personal activity that one does not do while eating a piece of pizza and checking Facebook.
Look for clues in your own dreams: rocks of a certain color, objects from a certain place where you feel safe.
Look especially to your cultural traditions, even if you have rationally unsubscribed from the religious elements of that worldview.
I’m not necessarily saying that these objects are inherently magical. You cannot prove or disprove this line of reasoning in the waking world. Rather, I’m saying that we are probably neurologically primed to recognize objects with liminal properties, and that they are effective when applied in the correct states of consciousness.
Apotropaic ritual can also include prayer and affirmations, by the way. Ironically, these prayers, as I suggest in my book Sleep paralysis, can include fear-calming statements about the neurological origins of the predicament, such as “I’m in sleep paralysis right now; a natural state in which my body is still asleep because my muscles are paralyzed. There is nothing to fear.”
I’d love to hear if you have applied liminal objects in your dream life, either for nightmares or for calling big dreams or even lucidity. Make a comment, let me know.
And if you’re into sleep paralysis nightmares (and how to manage them), I’m giving a free workshop on the topic on February 27th.
This post was cobbled together from my book Lucid talisman, which is conveniently out of stock right now, and Sleep paralysis.2
Notes
1 Augé, C. Riley (2007). Supernatural Sentinels: Managing Threshold Fears via Apotropaic Agents. Annual proceedings of the Society for the Anthropology of Consciousness. San Diego, CA, April 4-8, 2007.
2 Hurd, R. (2022). Lucid talisman: Forgotten lore. Philadelphia: Dream Studies Press; and (2020). Sleep paralysis: A guide to hypnagogic visions and visitors of the night, 2nd edition. Enlightened Hyena Press.