Note: I am now waiting 6 months before posting my lucid dreams, which means I am approximately 35 lucid dreams behind.
March 12, 2014
I’m with another woman. We’re standing outside on the edge of a large pool of silver-white water, surrounded on three sides by tall and dark fence-like walls. On the fourth and back side is the building we seem to have emerged from. The moment I see the pool, I tell my companion I’m going swimming, and add, “I miss swimming! I used to swim all the time when I lived in Louisiana. We had five acres, and Stinger built me a pool that looked like a pond. Instead of a white concrete frame, the black liner provided a border, so that from a distance it looked like a natural pond, but the water was filtered clean.” (All true in waking reality).
I’m not sure if I was already lucid at this point, but as soon as I enter the pool, I know I’m dreaming. I still sense my female companion, who is also waist-deep in the water on my left, but my attention is quite naturally riveted on the huge silver fish directly facing me where it floats motionless in the middle of the pool, it’s wide jagged mouth above the water. The creature could swallow me whole without blinking, and it seems to be challenging me. I tell my silent friend, “I’m determined to go swimming. Nothing is going to stop me!” In an earlier dream, I had seen a spear with its head deeply embedded in the stone of a very high tower under siege. As I consider manifesting this spear now, I raise my right arm. I don’t see the weapon, but that doesn’t stop me from wading over to the prehistoric looking fish intending to throw my imaginary spear into its dark mouth, open as if preparing to devour me. The spear remains invisible and ineffectual as I pantomime throwing it. I am now standing directly in front of the gaping jaws that resemble a dark, narrow, and jagged portal. Still waist-deep in the water, I can see inside the monstrous fish, and I consider swimming through its dark insides and out the other end, treating it like just another barrier that isn’t really there because I’m dreaming. But the prospect isn’t very appealing, and I spontaneously find myself floating out of the water beyond the creature’s reach while trying to come up with another strategy.
I drift from left to right again over the pool, and then over the enclosure wall. The giant silver fish follows me, sort of fly-leaping out of the water directly over the wall. It lands upright on the dark grass at the same moment that I alight on the white sidewalk a few feet away. I think—Okay, I’ll fight you if that’s what you want… but I really don’t want to kill you… I approach the great standing fish, and the closer I get to it, the more I resist the idea of killing it. Close enough to touch it, I suddenly know in my heart what I want to do as I say, “I won’t kill you; I’ll transform you instead!” All it takes is my touch for this giant fish-monster to collapse at my feet. I kneel down, keeping my hands on its writhing silver body, as I think—When I turn it over, instead of fish guts, something else will fall out, not dark and slimy organs, but something else… As I upend the big silvery sack, the curled up body of a little girl tumbles out onto the grass. Her long slender limbs are bare, but her torso is wrapped as though in shadow. I spread her gently out across the grass, kneeling over her in wonder.
Grasping her pale, frail little hand, I tenderly run her palm over the cool and slightly prickly grass. “Feel this grass,” I murmur, “and this soft flower petal against your flesh…” I brush a white petal against the skin of her left hand, which is almost as soft as the flower. “Feel that…? Isn’t it wonderful to be out of the water at last?” The tactile sensations are as vivid for me as I desire them to be for her. All the magic and mystery of evolution, from prehistoric fish to human child, feels embodied in this little girl. I crouch over her, and kiss her smooth, silky soft cheek, which is a rosy color. I’m consumed by pure love and tenderness for this miracle of life, my heart is suffused with joy as I press my cheek very lightly against hers. She feels absolutely real, and weighs like a little girl of about five or six, as I stand, scooping her up in my arms.
I struggle for a moment, my dream body a little uncoordinated, but as she clings to me, frightened, I promise her, “I won’t drop you. I would never let you fall.” I rise slowly into the air, fly over the barrier, and back over the pool toward the building. I place my right hand on something, pushing it away and using the momentum to lower myself back to the ground, and enter the white structure. I fly through its familiar corridors with the little girl cradled in my arms. I recognize a long elevated area I pass on my left furnished with red and yellow gym-like equipment, as is the ledge directly before me. I make a sharp left, and in my mind’s eye see my waking reality sister engaged in a demonstration in a nearby stadium: she is showing off dream body coordination as she carries several objects at once while maintaining full control of her flying body. I am taking the child somewhere specific as I phase out of the dream.