S. Mayer – Dream School, Mirror
Play & Teen Avatars in Lucid Dreaming

This dream began in a luxurious mansion with spacious and uniquely-designed modern rooms. There was a living room that had a long sweep of windows, each with a grid of tiny glass panes that let in a gorgeous yellow light. A young woman appeared and said that she lived in the upstairs apartment which had an ocean view. I felt a touch of jealousy.

The scene switched to a vast industrial space. It was visually arresting which triggered my lucidity. I looked around in astonishment. (These moments are always a bit of a shock.) I continued to investigate this space, finding access to a small airport. FedEx packages and other items were being loaded onto a plane. Back in the main room, I found an area used for food preparation. I scooped up a handful of flour from a burlap sack. It felt perfectly lifelike. However interesting this place was, it was dark and industrial—I did not want to waste precious lucidity in such an ugly environment. I walked by a big, gaping window and realized that I was way up in the sky. Below was a grid of iron girders and mist. I jumped out of the window and started free-falling. Each time I hit a girder I felt a slight pressure difference. I kept falling and falling through murky darkness.

Suddenly I could see the ground. There were brightly colored shipping crates and industrial buildings with workers milling about. (I was having trouble escaping the ugly industrial sprawl.) A building came into view with thick, cement walls. On a whim, I decided to pass through it. This time the resistance was strong, but I made it through to the interior.

Now, I was in a cluttered Victorian room with very high ceilings. A young, brunette dream-teacher was already instructing two students how to better control their flying and floating abilities. I took part in the next lesson, which required us to assume a slight angle and then gently float up to the ceiling and down again. A little bored with this, I started doing complete back flips, like an astronaut. I asked the teacher if she taught dream meditation. She replied that this WAS a meditation technique.

I drifted away from the lesson and investigated the room’s wacky decor. On one wall was a series of elf portraits and high on a corner shelf was a goofy model of an orange cat with big blue eyes. Then, I saw an ornately-framed, oval mirror. This was an exciting lucid dream opportunity that I have only rarely experienced. I looked into the mirror and was relieved to see a fairly accurate representation of myself—only I looked around 20 years younger. I smiled and noticed that my reflection did not smile back, which was rather unnerving. I tried for several more seconds to make my reflection smile, but instead my mirror eyes turned yellowish and sinister. I decided to end this experiment.

I floated out of this room through a window and wound up on a busy city street filled with shoppers. I hovered over them, occasionally running my fingers though their hair to see if they could sense my presence. Most of them did not notice me at all. Sometimes an arm would shoot up, as if to wave away an annoying fly. I also tried putting my hand through peoples’ bodies. Again, most people took no notice of my antics. I decided to try acting normal, by walking instead of hovering. No one seemed to notice or care, so I went back to flying.

I floated into an empty chocolate shop. Since no one was around, I took t h is opportunity to steal some chocolate, giving a box to a group of teenage girls who had been staring longingly at the window display. The chocolate made them very happy. I asked them who they were. They said they were my old high school friends. They seemed a little hurt that I did not recognize them. I looked more closely at each of their faces and was surprised to see that their skin was blue and green, like in the movie Avatar.

My husband appeared in the dream. I had an idea to show him how amazing lucid dreams are. I declared, “Take us to the moon!” We started moving through pitch blackness. Then I saw the moon, but it was a ridiculous, poorly-sculpted plastic model of the moon. I said, “Take us to the REAL moon!” The dream presented me with a somewhat better moon, but it was still rather disappointing. I apologized to my husband. (Lucid bragging seems to be a bad thing.)

The usual culprits were causing the dream to break up: staring too long at one item and a lack of focus. I briefly woke up and dipped back into lucidity. I suddenly thought to ask, “Show me something important!” But it was too late. Nothing materialized.

I woke and wrote down my dream, but the apartment looked a bit odd. All the windows were open and the neighbors were looking in. Then I realized that I was still dreaming. Finally, I woke up for real and wrote down this dream. It was one of my longest lucid dreams. They are always such fun. Dream on!