Maria Isabel Pita – Use Doors, Stupid – Searching for Dream 2 in Lucid Dreaming
I’m on a dark featureless field, in charge of a force of people, many of which are turning against each other. I yell as loudly as I can, commanding them to stop, urgently and with great authority, cutting through the aggressive confusion. The duels cease and I order everyone to fall into place.
They form a neat square of people before me in the dim gray atmosphere and I stand facing them, my wrists crossed over my chest. Some presence to my right asks me why I’m adopting an ancient Egyptian pose in front of modern soldiers. I ignore it. I am the General of Maat, that is who I am, and I’m in charge here.
I order the troops to follow me, slowly, repeating ‘slowly’ as I feel their eagerness picking up momentum as we move down the corridors, lit now, with potential ambushes lying in wait. I intend to turn left but a group breaks off and moves quickly right and enters a narrow room in which I see pipes and other miscellaneous shapes. I feel a threat but the group, headed by a blond woman, emerges unscathed. Nevertheless, I’m not pleased with them disobeying my orders.
I don’t remember how I became lucid, but I think the lucid scene flowed out from the above scenario. I became lucid instantly and the first thing I can recall is flying in the sky looking down at what appears to be a beach town; I sense the ocean in the darkness beyond some buildings without seeing it. It’s night but there is a feel of people still up and about. The first thing I notice is the same amusement park ride from the LD (Lucid Dream) last week, gliding through the sky on a horizontal trajectory.
I could distinctly see its shape, swastika like, in that it was angular, but it could also be likened to a spiral galaxy, dotted with white cups or buds from which rose a person’s head. Describing it now, it evokes the statue of Tut’s head emerging from a Lotus blossom, a symbol of resurrection/ emerging, transformative powers.
With grayish-white clouds before and maybe even around me somewhat, I remember my intent and closing my eyes will the dream to take me where I want, need, to be: X’s childhood home. I open my eyes again quickly, recognizing from the unchanged sounds that I haven’t gone anywhere.
Then, spotting a corner house not far away, I wonder if I’m not already in the right place and if that’s his house right there. I move through the air toward it as I lift my shirt and practice the deepening technique of becoming rooted in my dream body. My right nipple looks normal but my left one looks like a little rosy mushroom, which I find amusing.
‘X!’ I call, gliding down to an outdoor porch, studying the round table with interest, because I seem to recall X mentioning a round table on a brick patio. I sense I’m not where I want to be when I clearly see dark wooden planks, which makes it the wrong material. I ask a young boy if X lives in this house, but don’t recall if I get an answer so I enter it. There’s a dark-haired woman in the kitchen and she approaches me suspiciously; I just walked into her home announced. I give the excuse I was looking for X but don’t linger; the quickest way out is up, and up I go.
I have no intention of letting a ceiling get in my way and I go through it effortlessly. Of course there’s another one, but no material is going to hinder me in a lucid dream anymore, I’ve determined that. I go through 2 or 3 more ceilings before I become seriously frustrated and force openings in the walls, parting them like paper, and they just seem to keep growing back. I think—what’s up with this?! I have no problem breaking through barriers but they just keep multiplying! It’s really exasperating and I decide to ask the Dream, ‘Does this have something to do with the fact that I’m waking up and resisting it?’ (In hindsight, it was not the right question.)
I look around for somewhere the answer might appear. ‘I just need a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer.’ I seem to be in a corridor with industrial fogged glass like the kind in cold climates leading into what appears to be a small supermarket or large convenience store. I stride in, glance around me, and spot a newspaper rack. Just what I’m looking for! I glance at the headline and see two words, the one on the left appearing foreign, or a name, and the one on the right a distinct bold NO. My answer, at which point I realize it was a silly question.
I head back out the door, walking close to a pair of Hispanic looking men, determined to find myself out beneath the open sky, and it works! I make a note to remember that following dream characters through appropriate exits might be a good way to avoid my problem with the onion-like layers of ceilings and walls. Maybe I should just do things the ‘normal’ way rather than trying for the seemingly instant or quicker way out.
Ah, the freedom of blue sky! At once, very high up and a few city blocks away, I spot what looks like a metal beam crowded with pigeons or other dark birds fluttering and drawing my attention to them. ‘Just like in ‘Assassin’s Creed!” I’m delighted. ‘Well, I guess I’m meant to go up there.’ This beam is, I suppose, attached to some other structure, maybe the rust-colored frame of a vast unfinished or gutted building.
Drifting leisurely up toward it, I see that a woman is aware of me and the fact that I’m defying gravity. She says something to me, and though I normally tell such dream characters not to touch me as I move away from them impatiently, I feel indulgent tonight and reply to her, wondering what’s going on here.
Is my dream body somehow bleeding into her world, different from my waking reality, in which I am some kind of apparition? As I move up away from her she tells me that I’m very faint and far away to her but that my voice is loud, booming. I inform her that I’m actually very close to her and speaking in a normal tone of voice even as I find her perspective interesting. I alight on the gray metal beam in which I recall evenly spaced circular holes, dispersing the birds just as in the video game.
‘X!’ I call again. ‘I’m here X!’ or something to that effect as I walk along this balance beam in the sky. I’m waiting for him to pull me into his dream, only I suspect it’s still too early in the night for him to be lucid dreaming. I feel wonderfully rooted in lucidity and consider what intent I can focus on next while I give him time, but this indecision, this lack of decisive action, immediately begins dissolving the dream. I wake at 4:15.