Dream 200311003, 9:45 AM:
This was a WILD – Wake Initiated Lucid Dream. As I was drifting off, I kept focusing on “visualizing” textures and sensations with my hands – imagining vividly that I was touching and handling things with different temperatures, shapes, and surfaces, trying to engage that tactile awareness that is often my first sign of the onset of dreaming.
When I first become aware that I am in the Dream Body, the first sensation is tingling in my feet. I realize that I am barefoot on a pile carpet, and I scuff my feet a little to emphasize the sensation. I am standing just inside the green bedroom at the Kingwood House. I walk out into the hallway, and look into the blue bedroom, saying out loud that it’s Richard’s room, although it hasn’t been for a couple of years now. I look into Mom and Dad’s room, and again say out loud which room it is. I remark to myself, out loud, that this is a particularly strong lucid dream; the sensations are full-strength, and the environment seems stable. I go down the hallway (somehow skipping the living room) and into the kitchen; I look around, sweeping my vision left to right across the counters, and notice that they are much less cluttered than in real life, but seem very real. I pick up a can of soup from the counter top, and roll it back and forth in my hand, enjoying the sensation of its weight. I walk into the living room, and the old velvet couch is here; I kneel down and pinch the fabric of the cushion between my fingers, rolling it and feeling the texture of the velvet. I walk back down the hallway. I remember my dream mission quite clearly; I want to visit with one of the old Granny women, and ask her to teach me about yarn magic. I am talking to myself as I walk through the house, thinking about where I’d find one of the Granny women around here. I mentally run through the neighbors, and can’t think of any of them that quite qualify. I always envision the Grannies living in old houses, or out in the country, or both. I’m considering whether I should try some kind of dream transportation, like stepping into a picture or opening a door into another space – they often don’t work well for me in the most realistic dreams, because my mind doesn’t want to let go of the apparent realness of the situation.
At this moment, the Nova Dreamer lights go off. I count through them, knowing there will be five. The dream environment starts to gray out and lose its realism. I hear a sound like a crying doll; like the ma-ma sound they make, but without sounding like a word. I see something on the wall, maybe it’s a toy hanging up there, but I can’t focus clearly enough to really tell. I become more aware of my body, and then can’t get back to dream consicousness. *end*