Where This Meets That
As I’ve written before, dreaming has always fascinated me.
For a time in (my second) college, I actively experimented with lucid dreaming. Lucid dreaming involves the dreamer becoming “conscious” inside a dream. As a result, a disciplined lucid dreamer can take some level of control over his dream, effectively using his own subconscious mind as a playground without limitation.
My most vivid lucid dream came while napping on my parents’ living room couch following morning classes.
I dreamt I was at a bar near closing time at Georgia Southern University (my first college). The place had already cleared out for the most part, when I realized, “Hey, I’m not really here right now . . . I’m actually at home on the couch!”
If I could choose one superpower, it would be flying, so when I recognized my dream for what it was, I quickly took to the air. Or tried.
To my surprise, even in the dream, flying was not natural. I tumbled out of control toward the walls, more like falling than flying. I chuckled as I imagined myself looking like “the Greatest American Hero” from the TV show.
Most odd, however, was that, as one of my tumbling swoops that returned me to the front of the bar, I noticed everyone remaining in the dream had completely frozen in place. It was like a glitch that locked the dream environment in place once I became aware of the dream, similar to how computer software might freeze if you punch the wrong key.
I couldn’t hold onto the dream for long enough to hone my skills, but years later, without trying, I had another lucid flying dream. This time the dreamscape was a beautiful, rolling green countryside with nobody around. I actually recalled the previous dream as I took to the air, but this time my climb was effortless.
I soared through blue sky, climbing, turning, diving, a perfect breeze brushing my face. In the distance beyond trees below, the blue horizon curved down into space. I knew no limit.
Before I knew it, my ability to fly had carried over into a new dream in which I had rejoined my wife. I was elated to still be able to fly, and I demonstrated it for her. My joy was immeasurable. To this day, it is the freest I have ever felt.
I gradually awoke into a burst bubble of the mundane everyday and had a truly difficult time coming to grips with being grounded once again. I remember lying there in bed that morning with tears on cheeks, angry with the world.
One might ask why I love dreams so if they have this effect and can never become real. Well, they do become real every night, and even though the subject matter is a crapshoot, the sure thing is that anything is possible!