Following a friend out of a room where he’s been complaining about the pressures his mother puts on him, and in which I noticed a bee on his naked back which I tentatively, almost reluctantly, shooed away. We enter a well lit reception area in a building that feels like an institute, labs of some kind. Two young women are sitting on opposite sides of a reception desk. He sits down in a chair behind it with his hands beneath his sweater. I am concerned his condition is worsening. As I circle the desk, right to left, there is suddenly a woman sitting there and her belly is larger. I study it uneasily as, for some reason, the receptionists sit passively. Now there’s a big round ball beneath her shirt that’s impossible, a grotesque tumor, and as she looks at me studying her, her expression challenging, I realize this is a dream.
Losing all my timid fear of the obscene growth, I stride to the woman, demanding, “What is that?!” as I lift her shirt. But what I expose is an entire prone body (the sitting figure vanishes) tightly wrapped in what I can only describe as a gray amniotic sack made of a thin gray clinging cloth. I cry, “It’s some evil thing!” (Not my exact words, which I can’t remember.) I feel disgusted and aggressive toward the writhing thing, seeing it as some evil demon-growth I have to deal with, when abruptly I remember what I believe—that no life is innately evil. I can only describe the revelation as a lucid blast of absolute compassion. I now follow it’s defensive, writhing progress across the white floor in concern, determined to expose what truly lies beneath the gray cloth as I begin ripping away at it. Exposed is the fresh skinned face of a pretty young woman who is clearly alive but also in a kind of stasis, eyes closed, but not sleeping. I feel it’s imperative I remove the gray sacking in which she’s wrapped and continue ripping away at it, but it’s taking too long and my presence in the dream feels tenuous. There has to be a better way, I think, and stepping back from the table she’s lying on, I raise my hands, palms facing her, and command “Fire!” intending to burn the shroud off her. It doesn’t work, which is a good thing, I realize, since it would have burned her as well.
She’s mostly out of the thing (the closest WR approximation to it is a newborn calf emerging from its mother in a glistening amniotic pouch, only this one was dry and dull). I leave her to remove the rest of the strange wrap herself, eventually. As all this happened the scene changed to an outdoor rural setting, open field and distant trees and sky. I’m standing inside the perimeter of a low fence. The lighting is that of a somewhat overcast day. I am very pleased to be lucid again after more than two weeks and as I lie back against the somewhat uneven grassy ground for a moment I’m pleased that in the morning I will be able to tell X I had a LD. I get up and rise slightly into the air, looking around me as I pat my breasts, my favorite deepening technique, but my presence in the dream doesn’t feel any more solid. I quickly reach into the pocket of a my vest shirt, intending the the key X gave me to be there, and it is! I pull it out triumphantly and hold it in front of me. It’s a little bigger than in WR but pretty much the same shape and color. I rise higher into the sky, intending for the key to take me to X, but the dream fades and I wake at approximately 3:00.
Later in the night, a vivid scene of sitting at a table with a man, with what appears to be a large pool behind us. He asks me what I want. The question somehow relates to animals, and at once I reply eagerly, “I want a dolphin!” No sooner have I spoken the words than a huge, fat, snow-white dolphin with a characteristic pointed, smiling face, leaps up out of the pool and plops all its impressive bulk, slick and shiny, at my feet. I’m delighted, and also somewhat daunted by its size and energy even as I affectionately and proudly stroke its “head” because it is mysteriously my dolphin. It clearly wants to jump on my lap and, laughing, I try and accommodate it.
I slip into other dreams in which I follow a woman I’ve been interacting with outside into a bright sunny day. Instantly I recognize the same rural setting as from my earlier LD. We’re on what appears to be a farm because there is a large barn a few yards away directly in front of us. I immediately realize I’m dreaming when I see a snow-white long-haired kitten the size of an elephant, or even larger, walk out of the barn. The hair around its face is like a sunburst, or a mane, but it’s clearly friendly. I’m amused and rather pleased by this blatant dream sign offered by my SC. Not even I can miss that! At once I thrust my right hand into the pocket of my jeans and produce X’s key. I dismiss my companion with the words, “Time to find X!” as I Superman up into the blue sky. As I fly, I look at the key in my hands and notice there’s something wrapped around it—a very small bright green jewel-like sphere with a fine golden border from which luminous-transparent crinkled silver-gold wrapping or wings emerge on its right and left sides. I’m delighted by this curious attachment wrapped around the long part of the key. It seems significant, but I can’t dwell on it for too long because it might wake me up.
“Take me to X!” I tell the dream, quite hopeful I will succeed because I’m holding his key, which three times now I have succeeded in bringing with me, although only twice lucidly in just this one night. Nothing happens except that I notice the sky is somewhat crowded. I pass right next to the cockpit of a small plane and see the pilot staring out at me, craning his neck to follow my progress. I think I wave at him as I wonder what’s going on. Is my dream body visible to someone in the WR world somewhere? It scarcely seems possible. Then I distinctly hear a voice, it rings directly in my head, as clear as a WR voice: “1.7 miles from here, mock 10, east.” I snap to attention because a voice so real in a dream is rare and must be important. It seems to be telling me that I’m only 1.7 miles away from X!? I look around me and see a man speaking into one of those handsets used by pilots and I wonder if what’s he’s saying has nothing to do with me. It feels strangely crowded up here in the sky.
I take a good look at the scene below me, a city of mostly low buildings, the color brown, streets in the foreground, but behind the structures I see what looks like a strip of beach and the dark-blue line of the ocean. It seems I may very well be less than two miles from the X’s childhood house! I begin flying Superman style toward the view of ocean, quickly reaching buildings through which I take short cuts, passing through open windows, etc. I think X mentioned once that it should be possible to travel faster and, remembering a technique I used in another LD, I put my ankles together and kick my legs like a dolphin’s tale. It works! I pass from one scene to another without a sense of transition, fast-traveling in spurts. And there it is! I see the jetty; the scene looks just like the photo X emailed me. So close! Then abruptly, all of a sudden, the scene changes and I’m trapped in a warehouse filled with big yellow and red containers. “No!” I cry. “No! Don’t do this!” pleading with the dream as I struggle to rise above them, searching for the scene I just saw of the beach and jetty and calm dark-blue water. The barriers simply rise with me and I feel a tear of profound frustration trickle down my left check. I wonder, ‘Have I ever cried in a LD before? I don’t think so.’
I can tell it’s going to be impossible to break out of here and remember that a more normal approach at getting out of a place seems to work best. I promptly descend to the floor, planting myself in front of a dark-skinned man leaning against one of the crates talking to a fellow co-worker. “Where am I?” I demand forcefully. “What State? What city?” He just looks at me for a moment, and I don’t care what he’s thinking, before replying, “Colorado.” I can’t believe my ears! “Colorado!” when I was just so very close to the ocean? And now I’m landlocked! “God, this is maddening.” (Once again, I paraphrase). A passing security or police officer witnesses my outburst and looks like he might want to take me in hand, but I brush past him impatiently. Another man, who does not feel like part of the scene, informs the officer that I’m not really there, that I’m lucid dreaming and it’s amazing he can see me at all. But the officer isn’t convinced and I say impatiently, “I’ve done nothing wrong” which is the truth. I receive some mysterious help at this point because as I walk into an adjoining space, I hear someone tell a woman driving a huge white “truck”, sitting on top of it like a coach driver, to block my pursuers so I can get away.
It works. I’m walking by myself again in what appears to be part of this same huge industrial complex, in a more open area, darker, the ceiling too high to notice, more crates, smaller, with open sides. I keep walking, looking for the way out, wondering if I can travel so far back toward the east coast. I close my eyes, willing to be out of there, but when I open them I’m in the same place, only now my wrists are bound to my sides and I’m wearing a long, sleeveless snow-white dress that flares a little at the ankles, just barely covering my breasts and leaving the front of my body to just below my navel exposed. It’s a sexy dress and I’m vulnerable, bound, so naturally my first impulse is to spread myself out on the floor and let any man who walks by have his way with me. But that’s what I used to do in LDs when I didn’t know better, and I quell the impulse as I look around me. I see a woman walking toward me holding what looks like a black rubber fencing sword. “Whip me with that,” I tell her, curious to see what it will feel like, but I wake, sleeping on my right arm with my left arm pinned against my other side by the heavy comforter, which explains the dream bondage; the sense of my physical body returning as I began waking up.
At some point after this I had a brief but wonderful little lucid in which I was aware I had pulled my little dog Arthur into my dream and we were sitting together, me stroking his head, just as in WR. I also sensed he knew he was in my dream. I was experiencing it and yet also seeing it slightly from above; I could see all of him, in profile to me, the same angle as the silhouette of Merlin I saw the ashes of his funeral pyre take the form of. It was sweet and perfectly natural to be with Arthur in a dream.
Dream Notes: The addition to the key makes me think of a winged solar disc or scarab, the colors and the shape, very ancient Egyptian. I have used the analogy of dolphins and whales coming up for air with becoming lucid in a dream. I want to be as a dolphin, with more control of how often I become lucid and of how deep I can go. The embryonic woman might represent the slow formation and growth of my dreaming body/senses.