I’ve been feeling bad for not recording or blogging my regular/average dreams, fearing that this might cause me to stop having lucid dreams. My weekend was hectic, so I never got a chance to WILD (Wake Initiated Lucid Dream). So last night, when I was going to bed, I did a reality check, looking at my hands, drank my apple juice, and went to sleep.
Return of Meowth
I don’t remember how lucidity first accord. I want to say I was first made aware somehow that I was dreaming, and instantly had the following rush in on me…
A person was in the room with me and it surprised me because so often when I become lucid, people disappear. When I looked up, however, I wasn’t too thrilled to see a cat person rushing towards me (see I Was Awaken Into a Nightmare). It was a much cuter, kinder looking cat person than I was attacked by before, as she looked more like a feline from the Broadway production, CATS — but she made no sound and was trying to get close to me, and I was not happy about that.
Once I calmed down and realized it wasn’t nearly as creepy as what I remembered, it disappeared and I remembered I was dreaming.
I started to lose focus and drift after my struggle was won, so I tried to remain calm. Part of me wanted to move, however, and I dreamed I could feel the tingling of sleep paralysis wearing off. I stopped and stayed as still as possible. I was on the floor, looking up uncertain if I was dreaming now or not. I did a reality check, looking at my hands, and sure enough a few fingers were missing.
I jumped back up, and walked around the house, all chill like. I had no particular agenda. Wandering the house I was in, I looked out the window. It was breezy and inviting. I walked out the door, and for once it wasn’t a variation on what’s really outside my front. Instead, it revealed the home to be a beach house on a somewhat northern looking beach with rolling, grassy hills in the distance. Puddles, like miniature ponds, pockmarked the walk from the house to the beach. I was hoping for a somewhat cool breeze, but a warm one blew and I figured it could be worse, so I walked along.
I sat in a deep puddle and played with the sand, mud and shells to get a feel for textures and ground the dream some more. Plus, it was really relaxing! Eventually I got up and walked out to the ocean. Stepping out just getting up to my knees, I remarked to someone/nobody, “I made it to the ocean! This is lasting a lot longer than usual!”
I turned back around and felt a friendly presence with me, like my inner thoughts were mixing with the desire to share this serene dream with someone. It wasn’t eerie, as it was really just an extension of talking to myself manifested, unseen, within the dream.
I returned to the house and marveled at the drying sensation of my wet calves and wondered, “Well, if I’m going to keep dreaming… what do I do now??”
Then I finally remembered my dream goal, “Write music!” So I walked into a room that had a facsimile of my own music gear and equipment. I started playing the piano. I’m not a good piano player in the waking world, but I know enough to know how things are supposed to sound, notes and keys, etc., and my mind was cognizant enough to know what I was playing wasn’t anything special. It was like a rushed version of the introduction to The Four Tops’ “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)”, and I even acknowledged this in my dream.
I thought, “Maybe I’m being too literally,” so I began mashing the keyboard and hitting random notes, hoping it’d magically sound good… but it was just as if I had done the same thing in the waking world. This frustrated me, so I thought I’d try my hand at an instrument I’m a little better on, the guitar.
Picking up my guitar, I started playing some chords. They were basic and uninteresting enough, but I kept trying.
Suddenly, the guitar moved off my leg to the left on it’s own. I placed it back on my leg and tried to play some more, and it jostled again. “What the heck? I’m either waking up or something’s going on in the real world.”
I stood up and walked with the guitar, playing my three chords. My wife was in the next room watching WINGS (yes, thank you Netflix, she’s a WINGS-aholic). By walking passed the TV for just what felt like a few seconds, I grasped the entire episode’s plot…
The female, freelance helicopter pilot, named Alex, had lost an old WWII war memento she was given by an old army buddy. Joe and Brian Hackett, owners of Sandpiper Air, found the memento not knowing it was Alex’s. Unable to track down it’s owner, Joe attempted to drum up some business by having a sweepstakes where people tossed in a $1 for the chance to win the item. Alex didn’t know what the item was, but was entered into the contest.
Lo and behold, she won, but only AFTER Sandpiper had hired her as a pilot for their airline. A local reporter was reporting on the sweepstakes giveaway, finding Alex, stunned she had won her OWN antique war memento — and also being on Sandpiper’s payroll now. The reporter was pointing out the conflict of interest, and how, due to all the people who put money into the contest, Alex shouldn’t be given the prize.
This COMPLETELY fried my Lucidity. I was no longer aware I was dreaming, I was just swept up into watching TV with my wife.
I… a musician in the waking world… couldn’t write a song, but I came up with a rough, needs work/tweaking, decent early-90’s sitcom plot.
I woke up, turned towards my wife in bed, but she was already awake and had been up for 9 minutes or so. It’s possible that the jostling of my guitar was from her getting out of bed and leaving the room. It never even woke me up. It was a tired, chilled and well, muddy, lucid dream.