Dream: The Box in the Wall LUCID

Dream 20030226, 8:30 AM:

This dream began as a *very* realistic false awakening. First, a description of the real world situation, just so that it will make sense in comparison to the dream world: I had woken up, gotten out of bed, and then returned; Chris got up out of bed and went into the other room, and was puttering around in the kitchen. The kitchen is directly across the living room from the bedroom.

The dream:

I wake up, and find myself lying in bed; Chris has gotten up and is puttering around in the other room. I get up, and walk into the other room where he is to see what he’s up to. I look at the pictures on the wall, and then realize that the room is wrong – somehow instead of being in the kitchen, we’re in the blue bedroom at the Kingwood house. This causes me to become lucid, and the sensation of it is very strong. I notice that the walls are green, like the ones that Chris has been painting in the house. For some reason, I reach my fingertips into the wall – I think it’s to demonstrate to myself and Chris that I’m dreaming, because this feels so real. I reach the fingertips of one hand into the wall, and then realize that I’m not feeling anything inside there, just a sort of void – it feels vaguely like reaching around in room-temperature mud. There is a slight sense of resistance, but no sense of any of the stuff that is inside walls, like beams, nails, studs, or plaster.

I can see my arms disappearing into the wall; I am more than elbow deep into it now. I have a thought about trying to pass bodily through it, but I decide that instead I will see if I can find anything. I have a brief thought that it’s not very smart to be reaching around where I can’t see, in case there are bugs or monsters or sharp things in there… but then I decide that I will reach around and find a box and pull it out. I feel my way around, bit by bit, looking for a box. I think that it should be about the size of a loaf of bread. I don’t find anything like that, though, and I find myself getting close to blanking out – my face at this point is pretty close to the wall, and because my visual field isn’t changing much, it seems like I’m going to fade out pretty soon if I don’t find something. I turn my head to take in more of the room, which helps. I fish around with my hands, and then move in a downward direction. As I get closer to the bottom of the wall where it meets the baseboard, I feel a little box, smaller than the palm of my hand. I grab it between both hands and pull it through; it doesn’t give me any trouble as it comes out of the wall. It is a small square box, looks like a ring box. I open it up, and inside is a little green worm, like a garden cutworm, and a tiny piece of ribbon tied to a little card. The box sort of collapses open, and I pick up the little worm. I place it on the little finger of my left hand, and it holds on; I stroke it, and it turns into a silver ring with an image of a snake coiled many times around. It has a kind of Art Nouveau style to it; it is fairly wide, and the coilings of the snake have a curving, sensual quality like a Mucha drawing. I say something to it, about staying with me. Then I wake up for real. *end*