Lucid flight school

After reading LaBerge last night, I resolved to dream lucid. I committed to it. I set my intention on it. I accomplished it.

The setting is futuristic, and I am a female trainee at a “wing camp”. There are several people with me, none of whom I recognize. We have been assigned to complete a jumper course, which is a matrix of 3X3 square trampoline-type mats, stacked at multiple levels. Rather than a standard flat survace, however, these mats are simply a rank and file of two-digit numbers that seem to be free floating. 20, 60, or 80 designate the number of feet you would launch when you land on it.

I am a small framed woman and decide to jump in some of the tight fitting areas to master the skill of maneuvering on air.

Although the details are hazy, I am inside an indoor recreation room, now a male. I am looking out into a larger rec area through a huge plate glass window, and I see several women playing Ping-Pong in stripper clothes. One of the “strippers” is doing something provocative with the corner of the table, and I realize that I am in a dream. Lucidity at last!

I take a few steps and launch into flight.

[One of the tasks I had assigned myself while in waking life was to focus on the vividness of the dream. Lately, every source I read about lucid dreaming talks about how a lucid dream can be as vivid as waking life.]

To my great pleasure and satisfaction, the color and clarity of the floor tiles are astonishing. But I want more proof. Taste!

I am flying now between buildings in a futuristic complex of town homes. They look more like the face of an oversized mausoleum, with rows of rectangular sections stacked upon one another in stone. The size is immense, like two huge, intricately carved cliff faces, each overlooking the other. I choose one home, which, although similarly flat at the entrance, has some pleasing porch décor, giving it some charm. I fly in and down into a small kitchen.

There on my right is a shelf full of dry food items, and I see what I’m looking for. Peanut butter Ritz crackers. I taste one, and realize that, yes, in my lucid dream state, I can taste the salt, butter, and peanut butter flavors. Interestingly, while I am chewing, I can’t launch. I have the inner realization, “Of course, I can’t eat and fly at the same time. Everyone knows that.”

After more flying and a few more brief experiences, I lose lucidity. What a ride!

Dreamsign Catalogue:

1. Inner awareness (1/4)

• I have the inner realization, “Of course, I can’t eat and fly at the same time. Everyone knows that.”

2. Action (1/9)

• I am a small framed woman and decide to jump in some of the tight fitting areas to master the skill of maneuvering on air.

3. Form (3/10)

• I am a female trainee at a “wing camp”.
• …a jumper course, … a matrix of 3X3 square trampoline-type mats, stacked at multiple levels, … a rank and file of two-digit numbers that seem to be free floating… 20, 60, or 80 designate the number of feet you would launch when you land on it.
• I am flying now between buildings in a futuristic complex of town homes.

4. Context (2/9)

• I see several women playing Ping-Pong in stripper clothes.
• One of the “strippers” is doing something provocative with the corner of the table, and I realize that I am in a dream.