Lucy Gillis – Time-Slip at the Bosnian Pyramids in Lucid Dreaming

I’m walking along a very wide hallway or tunnel; the floor, walls, ceiling all the same beige or light tan colour. The ceiling is slightly curved. A woman walks quickly ahead of me. I can tell that she is nervous and is trying to get away from someone who is ‘back there’ in the building or complex at the back end of the corridor/tunnel. I catch up with her, and as we round a corner, I see that this is indeed a tunnel, and at the end is a wide opening, through which I can see the tops of leafy green trees, and forested mountains extending far off in the distance. For some reason, seeing this, triggers my lucidity, and I say to the woman, ‘We’re dreaming, it’s OK!’ (Meaning that she doesn’t need to be afraid or anxious anymore.)

Almost immediately after I say that, I forget all about her, and run to the mouth of the tunnel—which I somehow know is located on the side of a mountain—intending to leap out and fly over the tree tops. But when I get to the edge, I pause for a moment, looking at the great expanse of green forests, covering mountains and valleys as far as eye can see. It’s absolutely beautiful!

I then simply look straight down, tip over, and dive/glide out of the tunnel mouth, vaguely aware that this is not my usual way to initiate flight, but feeling it is of no real concern. Swooping down, then up, I notice also that my flying is slower than I expected, but since I’m not losing altitude, this is not a concern either.

For several long and luxurious moments, I glide over hills, down through valleys, over deep green forests. I look to either side of me as I swoop and soar; lushly forested mountains, some pyramid-shaped, as far as the eye can see. I somehow expect to come to a huge waterfall, and feel somewhat surprised that I don’t. I’m amazed at the beauty of this place, on this slightly overcast, yet bright day, and it is as though the shear emotion of amazement and happiness is fueling my effortless flight.

Gazing almost directly below, I see at least two places where it is obvious that there are large old craters just under the topsoil, that trees are growing up through. In these circular areas, what ground I can see between trees, has a bright bluish hue, particularly at the craters’ edges. The leafy trees that grow inside the craters have brownish/burgundy foliage, in contrast to the lush greenness all around them.

Eventually I come to a very small town or village that is nestled on the side of a mountain, and I descend to the ground, marvelling at how nice and long this lucid dream is, happy that I’ve not awakened yet. As soon as my feet touch the ground I instantly know I’ve been here before, and not that long ago, my last visit perhaps 6 months ago.

The ‘house’ near where I’ve landed is HUGE, like a complex of many wooden buildings all connected by wooden bridges and boardwalks. Everything is grey and weathered, and looks a bit run-down. I ‘know’ that many people live here, but it also feels like it is a retreat or some place of communal living where some sort of important long-term work is being carried out. Walking through the village, I recognize most of the people I run into (but they are not recognized from waking life).

At some point, I meet up with old acquaintances—a couple—who are in their late 40s, early 50s. They look tired, not very happy. I’m glad to see them again, and say it’s been six months since I was last here. Then I ask them, “How long has it been for you?” Meaning, how long have I been away “in their time-reality,” as I know that time does not flow the same in this dimension as it does in mine. Wearily, almost accusingly, the woman replies, “You’ve been away eight years.” She emphasises the “eight years.” I’m a little surprised at that. I know our time progression is not the same for us, but I didn’t realize the difference was that big.

Lucidity begins to fade and I’m now in their apartment or their part of this huge complex. They go out and I’m alone in their kitchen. Looking at the old paintwork and well-worn furniture and cabinets I can see that I could indeed have been gone for eight years, if judging just by the aged furniture. (I seem to have a memory of everything looking newer, fresher, the ‘last time’ I was there.) 

Lucidity fades further as I notice an old bureau that seems out of place. I note that the floor has buckled since I was last here, making a bowed surface. I go to move the bureau; it slides and bumps the cabinets, chipping off some old paint and leaving a mark. I get caught up in trying to find a spot on the floor on which to balance the bureau so it won’t slide about. I either wake at this point and fall back to sleep, or lucidity is now completely gone and I continue to dream (now forgotten) non-lucidly.

Note: That morning I told a friend about the dream and she was amazed at how similar the flying portion seemed to a video she had watched only the night before. It was of a team of Austrians body-gliding (or ‘wingsuit’ gliding) over the Bosnian pyramids. She showed me the video on her phone and though they were up much higher than my dream altitude (with reference to the mountains) the landscape was somewhat similar. I also noticed that they kind of ‘tipped’ and ‘dived’ out of the plane, in the same way that I did in my dream at the mouth of the tunnel (which, as mentioned, is not a usual technique I use). She also showed me photos of a dig site at the top of one of the ‘pyramids,’ as the craters I described had reminded her of this.