A little background, first:
In October of 2002, I had a very moving lucid dream, during part of which I was looking for something called “Go Cards.” The vision of them in my mind was very clear; they were like the Trumps of Amber in Zelazny’s books, pasteboard cards with a picture of a location, which could magically transport me to that place by gazing at them with the right intent.
One of the neat folks that I have run across in the course of my Internet journeys is Simon of http://www.ladytrap.org – and as we talked more and more about dreams and lucidity, I mentioned the Go Cards; he replied that he works with a company that actually produces Go Cards, which are a transportation “debit card” used in various cities for bus and toll systems. I was very intrigued, and asked him to send me a Go Card, charged with enough credit to theoretically get me somewhere. He did indeed send it, in an eventual, round-about way so that it appeared at my office as a delightful surprise. It is the size of an ATM or credit card, blue with the name “GO CARD” across the top of the front, and beneath that, a thumbprint image.
This doesn’t look quite like mine, but you get the general idea.
It sat in my work bag for about a month with my bills and such, as I kept forgetting to take it out at the house. I finally did, and put it beside the bed in the spare room/office that I use for my dream work. I had time finally last night to do some thinking about it, and how it might work; I decided that I would visualize taking the card in my hand, concentrating on its blue surface until an image appeared, and then putting it up to my face until it looms large enough in my field of vision for me to step into it. I went through this a few times before returning to bed for Magic Naptime. I held the card, wrapped in knitted silk, in my hand as I went to sleep. The card appeared amazingly clearly in my dream (often things get morphed as they enter dreamland) but I couldn’t quite make it function as imagined.
Dream 20040306, 7:00 AM:
I am in what appears to be a Half Price Books store, standing at a counter, but it’s not the front sales counter – more like the book purchase counter. It’s kind of junked up but very utilitarian looking. There are several people here; one man is asking for a particular book, and finally they tell him that it’s not here, and he asks if he’ll have to go to the main warehouse and dig through stacks of boxes to find it.
I don’t know what makes it click for me, but suddenly I realize that I’m dreaming. I turn to a man standing next to me, a cute young guy with dark hair, and tell him that I don’t have to stand in line (or something to that effect) because I’M DREAMING! I try hitting on the guys around me; my lucid dreams are often derailed to sexual dalliances. They all bend weirdly away from me, like someone on skates in a stage gymnastics show; I realize that this dream isn’t going to go that way, and actually I’m glad, because I remember that I was supposed to try out the Go Card in this dream. I decide to change the dream scene by spinning. I begin to whirl around, faster and faster; it gets to the point that I’m spinning as if on a pivot, rather than on my two feet. My speed increases until the scene around me is a blur. I pull my arms in toward my body, making the speed even faster; it’s an exhilarating sensation. Finally, there’s a bright flash, and I’m in a different place.
I find myself in a huge building. It reminds me of a very large art museum; there are pictures and sculptures around, although the walls are brightly painted and the art is widely spaced. There are people here, but they seem to be part of the decoration, more than figures to interact with. I can hear them talking as they point at and discuss the art, but it’s a gentle, distant susurration; I don’t hear any distinct words. I look down, and in my hand is the Go Card. It is blue as in real life, but with a green stripe across the top. In the stripe, which is where the label is on the real card, there are letters that shift and disappear and change – at one point, it says “Go Card,” but it shifts several times as I watch, tipping it back and forth. I laugh out loud, because it is so fun to see the shifting letters. It says various things, but I don’t remember them now; I remember it saying “play” and “fun.” The picture, which is below the title band where the real card has an image of a thumbprint, looks like a mythological sculpture of a mermaid or some kind of half-lizard-half-woman; it’s drawn in fine lighter-blue lines just like the thumbprint on the real card. The image shows the object’s shadow behind it, and as I tip the card I look at how real the image is.
I try to go into the card. I am walking along in the huge museum space, a wall to my right, and go around a big open corner. I look closer and closer into the card, but at the end I don’t go into it, I just bump it into my eyebrows. I laugh, and decide that maybe the sound of the room is distracting me. I do it again, this time humming a flat tone to drown out the room noise. Same result. I try it again, but then wake up.
[I think that it was more a matter of not having a clear image of my destination in mind. Although the sculpture image in the card looked amazingly real, and I felt as if I would be able to reach in and touch it, I didn’t have any sense of the place where it was. I’ll have to try this again with a more definite destination, or at least work with the card until it shows a physical place.]