Learning About Lucid

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Two fragments:

First: I’m in a large city, maybe London or New York. I look out the window, across the street at an old stone house that takes up a quarter of the block. It’s several stories tall. I notice my partner (maybe Chris) standing on the street corner, at the ornate front door of the house. I dissolve through the wall and float down to the street. He is on his way elsewhere so I once again dissolve and then re-materialize on an upper floor of the house.

The interior is decorated in Art Nouveau style. The walls are hand-painted, the woodwork is carved, golden oak. Most of the walls and furniture are colored in a soothing buff hue.

The lights are off. I walk into a small bedroom but can’t see that well. I move back into the hallway and realize that since I am dreaming I have the power to turn on the lights. I lift my arms in a sweeping arc, like the move in Tai Chi called Gathering in the Chi. I can feel that I am creating the dream from my second chakra. But only a few lights go on. So I understand that the structure of the dream as it is unfolding is more important to experience than my ability to change it at will.

Second: I am at the bow of a small power boat. Chris is at the stern, operating the motor. We are traveling across a huge lake, with deep blue water the color of Lake Superior. Off to our right is an island park where some of our friends have gone to picnic. But we continue on our path, through a hidden channel that runs through the lake. Giant, downed trees float to the left of the boat but Chris seems to know how to stay in the safety of the channel. Another island is coming up on our right, full of tall pines. Again I realize I am creating the dream, so I think it might be interesting to stir the waves. Churn things up. I lift my arms again but nothing happens. Which I find amusing.

Day notes

Nemo is battering New England today.