I am now waiting 9 months before posting my lucid dreams, which means I am approximately 50 lucid dreams behind.
May 28, 2014 I’m aware of being in a vast hotel of sorts with my husband, Stinger and my mother, who is waiting for us. Stinger is busy, and I find myself walking down a magnificently broad aisle toward where I can see Mami in the near distance. She is reclining on one of a pair of luxurious chaise lounges, brown with dark-gold trims, placed side-by-side. I have never seen chairs like these, and it lets me know that where I am is a very special place. Only an elite crowd stays here, but it has nothing to do with how much money you have. I promptly make myself comfortable in the empty chair beside Mami’s. It’s difficult to describe where we are. High triangular wooden arches evoke the foyer of a Cathedral, and a woman is greeting newcomers, offering them refreshment. I simply observe the hostess for a while… Lost time…
The next thing I know, the sumptuous chaise lounge Mami is sitting in is now white and spherical and floating high above the floor. I’m clinging desperately to her hand as I float above her, my legs in the air above my head. I feel that only by holding onto her can I prevent myself from plummeting to my death. Then, abruptly, I realize it’s okay, that I can simply let go of her and enter a lucid dream. I promptly do so, and find myself slowly drifting and spinning. Again, it’s impossible to say where I am, exactly. The structure appears circular, and it is so massive the floor and ceiling aren’t visible, nor are the sides farthest from me. Nearby in a white wall, there is a rectangular opening at least twice as high as I am and much broader. I clearly discern some shining metal fixtures on the top edge, from which I consider hanging for a moment. I know I’m dreaming, but I can’t completely shake the concern gravity might assert itself, even though I know this won’t happen. As I continue slowly drifting and spinning, I lose visuals. When they eventually return, the first thing I see is a diffused golden light, after which the structure takes form around me again. This happens several times as I exercise my dream body, moving like a weightless acrobat.
I plant my hands against a surface I intend to be solid, and which I distinctly feel as I twirl around and set my bare feet down against it. I’m very conscious of the fact that my movements and intentions are contributing to the creation of dimensions, and the sensations of a firm surface against my feet and hands. I’m not just waiting for visuals to return, I’m actively assisting in their reappearance. I execute a back bend, spinning around in mid air. I could never do back bends in waking reality, and it seems a good way to begin pushing my limits. I lose all visuals again as I execute the motion, but they return as described…
Lost time? False Awakening: I become aware of being outside at either dusk or dawn, floating just above a city street as I cross it, reclining comfortably in the air, as though on my own bed, and clutching a golden pillow against my chest. I feel perfectly relaxed and yet also in control as a bright yellow vehicle I recognize as a taxi comes into view. It is nearly as big as a bus, and swiftly approaching, on a collision course with my body. I can’t make myself move any faster, but I’m not concerned; I know it can’t hurt me, and that I will reach the sidewalk in time, which is exactly what happens. I seem to feel the wind of the vehicle’s passing, and wonder what the driver thinks of the impossible sight of a woman floating in a reclining position across the street holding a pillow. Then I wonder at how natural it is for me to be outside in the real world like this. It seems a reflection of the fact that lucid dreaming is second nature to me now. I seem to be both awake and lucid dreaming because waking reality is also a dream. I’m aware that in the “real” world I wouldn’t be able to defy gravity like this, because the air wouldn’t support me like my own bed, and yet I know I’m dreaming while awake, that it’s becoming second nature for me to be lucid in both states.
As I approach a yellow glass building much taller than it is broad, floating toward the dark entrance, I catch sight of my reflection in the opaque glass. My image is a dark-gold color, shadowy and yet well defined, and I’m smiling at myself, grinning with a Cheshire cat-like satisfaction, confidence and pleasure. My head, face and torso are just a little narrower and longer than in waking reality, and my hair is long and straight, which gives me a distinctly fey appearance.
Lost time… I’m standing in front of a white building holding my little dog Arthur in my arms. I’m about to enter the structure when I question why I would do so, when instead I can stay out here and turn this into another lucid dream. I set Arthur down, and he walks behind me, but when I glance back at him, he is only a misty outline, and looks more like the ghost of Merlin, the Shih Tzu I owned before him. It makes sense to me that my two beloved doggies have merged like this, yet it seems more likely I am with Merlin now. It’s nighttime, and I’m following a broad white path, walking along a structure that rises on my left. A few yards away on my right there is open space that feels like a large black body of water, either a river or an ocean bay.
Then I glance up at the sky and stop short, astonished by what I see high above me in the starry universe—geometric constellations composed of bright white musical notes crammed together, and streaking swiftly across the sky, so that their clusters also evoke algebra equations. This is impossible! Magical! But just a little too perfect? Suddenly, I understand that what I’m seeing are projections, a fantastic display orchestrated by the mysterious high-end resort I seem to have come upon. As I stand there, marveling at this Disney-like mathematical heaven, two men on their way out suddenly pause near me, and one of them says, “Let’s stay the night. Why leave now? We can-” They turn around, and he describes a decadent-sounding purple drink he intends to order, accompanied by some celestial version of a cigar. As they head back inside, I study them curiously. They are both tall and handsome in an average way, well dressed and affluent enough to afford this place. I also get the feeling they are a couple.
Lost time… I’m inside a woman’s home, sitting at a table with several other people. She is very accommodating, but there is nothing wealthy or special about the decor. I’m not entirely sure why I’m here, but I feel comfortable, and the people are all somehow familiar to me. I close my eyes, fall asleep, and become lucid again. In this lucid dream nestled within a false awakening, I think about the white mathematical musical notes flying across the universe which at first seemed awe inspiring, but then so obviously like man-made projections lacking that ineffable yet unmistakable Divine touch. I wonder if I stumbled upon a high-end section of Purgatory, resort-like, but still Purgatory, because God was not truly present in that universe, which I can only describe as an odd blend of modern physics and Disney World… I open my eyes, believing I wake up where I’m still sitting at a table—a false awakening nestled in another false awakening, with a lucid dream in between, like some sort of consciousness sandwich!
I’m struck by the fact that I just fell asleep, and had a lucid dream in public. Wow. How did I manage not to topple over in my chair? We’re all apparently having a meeting and discussion of some kind around this table, because no one is eating… I phase out of the dream, finally waking up for real.
After getting up to quickly write down key words and thoughts about these multiple lucid dreams and false awakenings, I go back to sleep. Just before waking for the day, I received an image of a circular white-framed window divided into six or eight panes through which I clearly see distant stars shining in the black depths of space, and this window is spinning at a steady rate, like a wheel, even as it remains in place.