Dream: "My own thoughts made visible LUCID"

This was a fun, cool dream. I’m so happy that I’m getting some success with this particular incubation, and finally got a lucid dream with it!

Dream 20031217, 6:00 AM:

I wake, very groggy, and find myself lying in the blue bedroom at the Kingwood House [The house I grew up in. In reality, it’s in a city four hours away, now.] I realize that this means I’m likely dreaming a false awakening. The thing that often frustrates me about these false awakenings is that I am too groggy to move, or even really open my eyes much. I think it’s because my body fights with its own sleep paralysis. This time, I decide to see if I can spin. I can’t stand up or even sit, but I visualize myself spinning in space, which seems to work. Although the scene doesn’t change, I’m now able to get up, and I run through the empty house to the front door, open it, and go out into the yard and begin to fly. I tell myself that I want to find one of the Granny Women, and ask her to bless my hands. It’s one of the things I’ve been working on incubating. I am proud of myself for remembering my intention so clearly! I wonder how I’m going to find her, and tell myself that she’ll be in a house with a bright purple roof. As I fly upward, I remark to myself that I’m building visualizations of the trees, the houses, and the neighborhood based on my ground-focused understanding. Although the dream doesn’t have the startling level of reality I sometimes get in lucid dreams, my level of consciousness about the dream state seems particularly high.

I fly over the neighborhood, looking at the houses, trying to find the bright purple roof that I have decided on as an indicator. I don’t see what I’m looking for, and keep flying for quite a while. My flight is in an upright, nearly standing position, sort of swimming through the air, but without a lot of effort. The houses seem to shift and change, almost under my eyes – I try to shift one to a purple roof, but it doesn’t want to do that. I keep flying. With a start, like I’ve tripped over something while I wasn’t looking, I wake in bed [for real.]

Without moving, I lie very quiet in the bed, to see if I can get back into dreaming. After a little bit, it works. I find myself back in the same position, in the blue bedroom again. This time, I feel a little more awake, though. I jump up, again run through the house to the front door and take off into the air. I decide that this time, instead of going over the neighborhood and trying to find a house, I’ll head back over the thicket [which no longer exists, in real life] behind the house. I fly up through the tall pines, looking at the moon. The moon multiplies, and I’m looking at a number of celestial bodies; it looks kind of like the moons of Saturn now. There are five or six of them. They have a peach-like color, like the Hunter’s moon, and I remark to myself that they’re very beautiful. The sky around them is bright, as if lightly cloudy.

I find myself going through a large, barn-like building. It’s kind of inside-outside, almost like an airplane hangar; the sense of space is so large that it’s like being outside, but I’m no longer among the trees. Several fleeting images seem to vie for my attention; it seems like they’re subconscious fragments trying to derail the dream and take it off in a different direction. Attractive men, although kind of ghostly, grab at me; they are different types, one is a hot Greek, another is a hairy Daddy type, etc. I disengage myself, slipping out of their grasps, and it’s almost like a dance. I am singing, and it seems like a number out of a musical – it’s something about how “this is not what I’m looking for now.” I can’t remember the words now, but they were running through my head when I woke up.

I find myself in a shop. There are several people here, and the shelves and walls are full of sex toys and “adult novelty” type stuff. Again, I think it’s my subconscious fighting the lucid dream – this happens a lot to me. One staff person is yelling at a clerk, something about, “This is about customer service… now service this customer!” and pushing the clerk to his knees in front of a standing customer. I laugh, and realize that the dream is becoming distracting and I’m losing track of my goal. I look around, and find a staircase leading up (upward motion in my dreams is often more about adjusting attitude, than altitude) and I walk up the staircase and out of the store.

At the top of the stairs, I find myself outside, on a flat high place, like the top of a plateau or a hill. There is some stonework here, and I meet a slightly mussed looking middle-aged woman, who invites me to sit down with her. She reminds me of Helena Bonham Carter’s girl/witch character from Big Fish, which we saw last night. She sits on one side of a small stone altar or table, and I sit across from her. She talks for a while, and I can’t remember now what she said, but I remember it was something about how to dance and howl. As she talks, I watch her, and she shifts to an almost clay-mation looking person, and then to a stylized version of cat-headed Bast, but with long braids. Now, she looks like a little terra-cotta statuette about ten inches tall, although still moving.

I realize that although she may represent a face of the Goddess, she’s not the particular type of older crafty woman that I was trying to connect with in this dream. I take my leave, and find another upward-bound staircase.

At the top of this stair, I find myself inside again. There is an old woman, looking much more like the grandmotherly type I have been seeking, sitting at a sewing machine. I watch her sew; she appears very concentrated on her work. The machine is a modern white plastic one, but the spool of thread on the top seems to be an antique steel bobbin, loaded with a heavy pink thread. She is sewing on something that looks like a deer skull; not an applique or embroidery piece, but a three-dimensional skull. She has white hair, and is wearing half-glasses. I walk up to where she is working, and ask if I can sit with her; she points at a padded brown folding chair beside the sewing end of the machine, facing front. I sit down, and quietly watch her work for a moment. I ask her what she’s sewing on, and she replies, “My own thoughts, made visible.” I wake up. *end*