After a many month dry spell, I finally had another lucid dream last night. For some reason (okay, probably in large part because I haven't been incubating or waking naturally or, most importantly, writing down my dreams) my luck with lucidity had seemed to run out. I'd all but given up hope, and so have stopped practicing induction techniques except for the lazy trick of reciting "lucid, lucid, lucid" in my mind while peering at myself in the mirror during midnight restroom trips. Last night it worked. 

The night was hot and loud. Sirens sounded on the half hour it seemed. My sleep was light and restless. Towards the hours before sunrise, lucidity landed in my dream spontaneously.

I was walking the streets of an industrial town when it dawned on me. Once I realized I was dreaming, without any instigation from a dream sign, my first instinct, like that of so many lucid dreamers, was to take to the air, to levitate. I willed myself off the street and rose above the buildings, kicking my arms and legs like a frog to take myself higher and higher. I dove through alleys and bounced from roof to roof, noting how realistic the texture of the roofs felt.

With great joy I flew across blocks and blocks before it crossed my mind to try something else. Eventually I thought, "Hey, I should practice my transformation skills!" Because I have had little hope of becoming lucid after almost six months without any lucid dreams, I didn't exactly have list of planned options readily available. The first thing that popped into my head was "I could experience what it would be like to have my body turned inside out," but I quickly reneged. What a terrible idea! I frantically grasped for another to replace it. "I want to experience feeling what it's like to be Cinderella!" I blurted out. Don't ask my where this desire came from. This is why you prepare, people.

I quickly fell to the earth and, in a shabby dress, began picking tomatoes as I was yelled at by a large woman from the back porch of what was seemingly Cinderella's house. This experiment didn't last long. I decided to come back to my dream self and chose to next try changing the environment of the dream. Again, lack of recent preparation set me up for a random choice. "Birthday party!" I declared to the dreamscape. I pointed to the left. "Now!" I pointed to the right. "Now!" And before my eyes the scene changed - balloons and clowns in rainbow colors appeared and so did a few friends. Then one of my favorite lucid dream events happened: the people around me broke into coordinated song and dance. My mind presented a creative, entertaining musical for me. The topic was dreams, but unfortunately I cannot now recall the lyrics (though, at the time, I was somehow sure I would be able to).

At the conclusion of the performance, a conversation about dreams naturally arose. My friends agreed that we just might be in an independently-existing alternate reality. Someone, I cannot now recall his waking connection to me, said, "We should talk tomorrow. I believe we might be having the same dreams." Someone else said, "We shouldn't talk about this anymore. The dream characters won't like it." With that, we turned back to enjoying the sensory input of the dream.

I then ate a few pieces of candy and tried to find paper to jot down what happened in my dream so far. I seemed to believe I would be able to take the paper with me from my dream into my waking life. Alas, I couldn't find any paper. At this point, I think I also started losing lucidity because I didn't even consider attempting to conjure up some paper myself.

"What now?" I asked the group. "I guess I could practice healing. Does anyone have anything that hurts?" A girl I know from a singing group said her finger had been hurting. I pressed the tip of my pointer finger into the side of hers. I focused on transferring healing energy into her, closing my eyes to help with concentration. When I opened my eyes, I woke up in my bed. The dream was done, but my faith that more will come has been renewed.

Comment