There is an old saying about March coming in like a lion (and going out like a lamb). The reverse is also imagined: if it comes in like a lamb, it will go out like a lion. Weather mythology aside, March does have some significant dates for me.
One is “Vern’s Equal Ox” — a day of rejoicing for Lovers of the Light. Our days will now be longer than our nights. That’s less than two weeks away. The coming Saturday is a doubly special date (especially this year), but more about that another day. Lastly, March contains the birthday of one of the four people I consider life-long best friends.
Trumping it all right now: last night I had my first fully lucid dream!
This is something I’ve been hoping to accomplish for a very long time. To be in a dream fully aware that you are in a dream and capable of directing yourself and potentially manipulating the dream reality.
And I gotta tell you: one of the coolest things that’s ever happened to me. It! Is! Awesome! I’m hoping that, having done it once, I can do it again (and again (and again)).
Properly speaking, it happened around 5:30 AM this morning. I went to bed around 1:30 AM, read until 2:00, and then (due to an afternoon nap) tossed and turned sleeplessly until at least 3:30.
I was so restless I got up and wandered around my place for a while. Yesterday was the first day temps went above 50 (F), so it was the first day I had the windows open for most of the day. I saw that, even at 3:30 AM, it was still in the low 40s, so I opened my bedroom window for some fresh air and went back to bed.
I eventually fell asleep and had a fairly interesting dream, although not a lucid one. It involved taking a road trip to some location where I was expected for a work assignment. My travel plans had somehow gone awry, and I was in a taxi.
The disruption somehow (I’m going to stop saying “somehow” — dreams are filled with mystery elements) involved a diversion. I had a sense of being somewhere in England headed for a car barge that would transport me to the continent. Specifically, to Wales.
Wait, what? Well, it made sense in the dream. At Wales (which apparently is somewhere in France), they’d put me up in a hotel until I could proceed the next day to my destination. I knew I’d be days late, but that seemed okay.
The taxi was loaded onto the barge with a crane, and the barge began to move.
But then I was on foot in a city, and it was raining pretty hard. (I love rain and weather, so this wasn’t a metaphor for sorrow or tears.) I had a red umbrella (so I do see color in dreams), but the rain and wind were so strong they kept wrecking it. The frame and the handle were made with thin wire, so that wasn’t surprising.
I took shelter in the public alcove that fronted a closed business (a bakery, maybe?). It was a concrete block enclosure, about 8′ x 12′. The front wall was half opening and half wall, and there was a large horizontal vent above my head that crossed the wall part.
The strong wind was pushing the rain through the opening and the vent, and my umbrella was useless at this point. I didn’t feel particularly threatened in any way. As the wind and rain and noise increased I realized this must be due to a tornado.
I’ve never seen a tornado with my own eyes, and I’ve always wanted to. I edged around to look through the open part, and sure enough, there it was — fairly close and fairly big. It was moving from left to right and chewing up the city as it moved. It did not seem headed towards me.
And then I woke up.
“Well, that was kinda cool,” I thought! I rolled over and went back to sleep.
I found myself in a room with white walls and white doors, but the doors didn’t have handles. Just flat panels in a door frame. That’s when it occurred to me that this was a dream!
I started saying to myself, “I’m in a dream. I’m in a dream!” I wanted very much to stay in the dream, in full awareness, so I kept reminding myself that I was dreaming.
I had some papers in my hand, and I decided that was messy. I wanted an iPad instead. Since this was a dream, I figured I could change reality, so I concentrated on changing the papers to an iPad.
Instead, I was able to pluck away the papers leaving a small device similar to a flip phone in my hand. That wasn’t what I’d asked for, so I tried pulling on it to stretch it into an iPad. Instead I got an iPod — the classic one.
I own both an old flip phone and that iPod, but have never had an iPad, so maybe my imagination just wasn’t up to the task.
In my mind was something I’ve heard about not being able to read in dreams; that one way to test a dream is try to read something. The papers in my hand had writing, but I didn’t think of trying to read them; I wanted to read something on the iPad or somewhere else.
I also wanted to see if I could fly, but never got to trying it. I clearly didn’t have full control of the dream.
I wondered what would happen if I pushed on the “door” in front of me. I did, it opened, and I walked through. Except that walking was more like gliding. I wasn’t aware of my legs or of taking steps — I just moved through space.
I found myself in what I identified as my sister’s room from when we lived in California. I could hear birds through the open window on my left (with my hearing loss, normally I don’t hear birds).
I moved through the connecting doorway which, in that house, led to the back bedroom that had been mine. Sis and I normally kept that door closed; I had another door to my bedroom that was the principle means of access.
But dream space is weird, and I found myself in what I identified as the front bedroom, which had been my parent’s. But this wasn’t theirs. For one thing, it was actually two rooms and the door I used was in the wrong wall.
That door had hanging clear plastic square tubes hanging down (similar to those beaded curtains sometimes hanging in doorways). The tubes were about three inches square and hung from top to bottom. But they were easy to pass through.
The bedroom seemed to belong to a teenaged girl — unmistakeable signs of young female occupancy. And she was obviously a fan of Batman and had framed pictures of him on her dresser. I moved towards the second room, but the dream shifted again.
Up until now, the rooms all had white walls, and there was lots of light — like a bright sunny day with lots of windows. But now I was in a darker, windowless hallway, and there was an open kitchen off to the left. By “open” I mean that only a low counter separated the kitchen from the hallway.
I’d been alone since the taxi driver, but seated in the kitchen nook I could see a woman eating. I moved around the low counter and approached. The nook was deeply recessed from the kitchen itself.
As I got near, I saw the woman was old, in her 70s at least. She was fairly slender. She didn’t look like my mom, and I didn’t identify her as my mom, but in looking back I wonder if she was. Her body type and age, the kitchen, and the breakfast nook, are all suggestive of her.
Once I was standing in front of this woman, she stopped eating, looked up at me, and said, “You never did tie it all together.”
And then I woke up.
I was extremely excited about finally having a lucid dream, and I immediately wrote down some notes about what had happened. As I write this now, the memories have faded and other than snippets all I really have are my notes.
I tried to dream some more, but wasn’t able to return to anything other than fragments — none of them lucid. I’ll keep trying because it was just too amazing.
I’ve always had some degree of control over dreams — being able to steer them away from any hint of threat mostly (“Hey, this is my dream, and I won’t stand for that!”). Or the realization that I must be dreaming, but that’s always had the effect of waking me.
Maybe having done it once, doing it again will be easier? I hope so. It was really amazing. And I really want to see if there’s any continuity. I’d like to find out what that woman meant about tying it all together!