In this dream, I find myself driving in my car. It’s a beautiful day, the realism of the dream as always indistinguishable from waking life. As I am driving, I notice that the setting is different than what I know from my waking life and rationalize the reason this is so, is because I must be in a dream. When coming out of the trance-like immersion of a dream, it can be challenging so a reality check is helpful, not always needed. I tried to make my car fly to prove to myself it was a dream, but the dream wasn’t responding to that intent.
It didn’t matter, I knew I was dreaming the setting was the give away. Already sitting in a car with my hands placed on the steering wheel it was very easy to use that to focus my awareness and stabilize lucidity. Being in the dream, fully aware was absolutely blissful. It felt so good just being in that focus state, almost Euphoric. I told myself, I could easily spend forever here, it feels so good and looks so beautiful. I lean back and relax observing the dream realism admiring the vivid quality, loving how it simulates waking reality in the most profound of ways.
I spend a few minutes in this blissful euphoric state relaxing just being aware of the presence of myself and decide that if I can’t make the car fly, would be fun to drive really fast and I hit the gas. The car starts to accelerate and I race down the road weaving around other cars driving faster and faster. The road makes this 90 degree turn, a full right angle and there is a mountain cliff straight ahead. Knowing it was a dream and having zero fear of consequences, I decide to prove it raising the stakes by driving the car into the mountain cliff rather than turing the sharp corner.
It wasn’t about proving that I was dreaming at this point, it was about proving that I was absolutely fearless while in that state. The cliff approaches fast and the car smashes into it throwing me from the windshield and I fly into the rock and through it. The dream collapses and I am now floating in this etheric energy almost like being in outer-space in some colorful cloud nebula and I laugh. With less detail to distract my attention, I find this new cosmic realm to be equally calm, blissful and peaceful.
I look at my hands and wonder if I am not going deep enough into this experience, that I am letting the dreamstate present too much stimulus of content and drama rather than looking deeper into the reflections of self that come with being here. I stretch my focus deeper into the cosmic swirl of colorful clouds and the focus becomes pure black and empty with only myself present. Nothing new here, this is often known by many people who practice being conscious during sleep and is described as the void. I’ve been there many times.
Being here is even more blissful, euphoric and peaceful. I snap back to a single point of awareness where I feel as if I am a singularity and at a state of oneness. Then I realize why I dream at all, there is no fun being a singularity in a void lacking substance and context. Dreaming is the only means by which to fill this void with vivid experience and fun. As nice as it is to stay in that state, it’s not as interesting as being in a dream. I feel myself expand from this point explosively in all directions and a new dream forms and I am now back in a dream body that is similar to my human counterpart.
This time I am in a house and there are people there. To make sure I don’t lose lucid focus I again take a moment to touch the surface of a counter and anchor my awareness until I felt stable before proceeding to engage the dream drama. There is this lady there, she is in her 60s, tall thin with short white hair. She comes over and starts to talk to me and asks me why I am at her house.
“What makes you think this is your house?” I ask her.
“Because I live here and I don’t remember inviting you over.” she tells me.
“What if this really isn’t a house at all, and it’s just a dream where a house is merely part of the stage of the dream?” I ask her.
“Oh that’s impossible. This isn’t some dream.” she tells me.
“I wouldn’t be so certain of that. I’m certain this is a dream. Of that, I have no doubts.” I tell her.
“Do you believe in God?” she asks me.
“No not really, I believe in the self which came from oneness into multiplicity for the purpose of experience.” I tell her.
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“We are all parts of the one who dreams us all, the conscious singularity.” I tell her.
“This isn’t a dream. And Jesus is my Lord and Savior!” she tells me.
“Hey, if that is what you believe, who am I to judge. However, you keep saying this is not a dream, and I am saying it is. One of us here is wrong and the other is correct.” I tell her.
“Stop saying this is a dream! In the name of Jesus I command you to stop saying this is a dream!” she starts to complain.
“It’s ok, relax. It’s just an issue of perspective.” I put my hand on hers and calm her down but in the same process I make a copy of her hand and then give it to her. “Here is a copy of your hand.”
She takes it, still having both of hers and looks at it in shock and horror. “How did you do that? Why did you do that?” she asks not able to make sense of experience.
“To break through your logical assertion that this is not a dream, when in fact it is one. To force you to think about the state that you are in causing you to question this reality rather than taking it at face value for what it appears to be.” I tell her.
“This isn’t a dream! It can’t be a dream! In the name of Jesus this isn’t a dream.” she complains all afraid.
“But it is a dream. And that is ok. Coming into this knowing isn’t going to hurt you, trust me.” I tell her.
She falls into prayer still holding the copy of her hand that I made. This attracts the attention of some other dream characters who come over to see what the commotion was all about.
There is this younger man with a scruffy short beard asks me what happened. “I just showed her that she is in a dream, not physical reality is all.” I tell him. “Apparently her beliefs just invoke too much fear to handle that truth sadly.”
“Ok, get out!” he tells me. “Get out of this house!”
“Why do you think that you are in a house?” I ask him.
He stops and looks at me like I am crazy, “Ok that’s it, get out now before I beat the shit out of you.”
“Where am I going to go? This is my dream, and I don’t feel like waking up.” I tell him.
“I said get out!” he yells and he grabs my arm.
I look at him, look at his hand on my arm. “No, you are in my dream so you get out. I am staying. So what are you going to do about it?”
He tries to push me with his one arm holding mine but I don’t budge. He gets both hands into it and pushes on my chest as hard as he can, but I don’t move. He punches my face but it’s like hitting immobile steel doing nothing at all. Becoming more enraged he tries to put me in a choke hold and I just chill, unfazed. I mean I just ran my car through a mountain cliff so something like a dream character trying to hurt me is no big deal.
“Why can’t I hurt you!” he finally yells, “What the hell is going on!”
“Like I was saying, this is my dream. And I don’t want you to hurt me. If anything, you should try being friendly and nice.” I tell him.
“This isn’t some goddamn dream you asshole! Get the fuck out of my house!” he yells and some of his friends come over to help, they all grab and try to move me but that ain’t happening.
I have four people now involved in this unwanted conflict that I am suddenly in and decide this isn’t going exactly in the mode that I enjoy. “Want to see a cool trick?” I ask them.
I snap my fingers and teleport out of their grip backwards a few feet and the stumble into one another. I give them a gentle force push and they stumble backwards. “Look, I’m a nice guy you should be nice too.” I tell them.
They are all looking at me clearly unable to process what happened. I walk into the kitchen and I grab a large kitchen knife. At this point the dream characters are terrified but curious as to what I am about to do next. I hold up my left hand and I use the kitchen knife and cut it off, the hand falls to the floor and they yell at me to stop. But, my hand instantly regenerates and wave my newly emerged hand at them. I drop the knife and tell them, “See, it’s a dream. I certainly wouldn’t go cutting my hand off if this was waking reality.”
“Ok, I don’t know what the hell you are, but that was pretty fucking amazing!” the first person with the beard said.
“Yeah, dreams are kind of cool.” I tell him. “So lets stop fighting and how about we drink some beers.” and I snap my finger again, turning the house into a two level bar with some waitresses and a bar. I sit at the bar and order beers for everyone. His friends are still there and they sit down. The waitress pours a beer and I can’t wait. I love exploring food and drink in dreams to see how close it is to waking life.
The glass feels perfectly real, there is condensation on the outside and it feels cold. I run my finger down the condensation forming a line. The beer is golden with about a half and inch of foam. I pick it up and take a sip, it tastes like a perfect beer. I knock on the counter of the bar and it feels solid, super real. I kick back, relax and enjoy a beer with my new friends.
The waitress is an African woman and we exchange simple banter. The other dream characters are now immersed in being in the bar engaging the dream as if reality itself laughing drinking and I think this is much nicer. I have a second beer and decide to explore the tavern. I walk down stairs and there is the other level of the bar with another woman bar tender. I sit down, put my beer on a coaster and talk with her introducing myself.
I spend quite some time there mostly just relaxing in the dream, when needed maintaining lucid awareness and enjoying the knowing that comes with being lucid. I have several conversations with other dream characters but don’t do the usual forth-wall breaking assertion that its a dream. I’m just having fun, enjoying my time here. The waitress on the first floor tells me that her friend upstairs really likes me and asked if I was married or had a girlfriend. I told her that I’ve been single for about nine years and haven’t really been that interested in getting into a relationship with someone.
She asks me why, and I tell her that it’s not that important as it once was. I tell her that I’m too different for most people, not at their level so that makes us distant in how we interact. I’m over here, they are over there and there is not much deeper understanding as to who and what I am, or what I desire beyond the limits of just a physical thing. “I’m too deep.” I tell her. “Most people just don’t get me.”
She says that I should date her friend and I laugh, “Sure, we can date until I wake up. But then she’d be just another girlfriend for a dream, and not much more.” I laugh.
“You are really deep.” she says. “What about me, would you date me?”
“Yeah, same problem. We can date, for a brief moment then I wake up and you become a distant memory. Instead, I just enjoy being here for the brief time that I can keep this focus stable.”
“You really need a girlfriend.” she laughs.
“Maybe, maybe not.” and I ask her for my bill. She opens a book and has $100.00 written down. She pulls out a card reader and I tip 20% and pay for the dream beer. This other woman walks into the bar and I recognize her from my waking life. She sits down at a table and I look at her, nod and smile.
She gets up and walks towards the door and the walls and door that she heads towards dissolve opening up the tavern to the outside. There is a parking lot and I watch as she wanders towards the center of the parking lot. Then this weird thing starts to happen as other slightly different copies of her start to walk towards her and they start to fight, knocking her to the ground and more and more versions start to crawl out of walls and buildings to take part of the fray.
That is really weird I think to myself. I walk towards her and there are literally over 100 versions now all attacking and I decide to intervene and using dream control I just bat them off like flies without laying a single finger until she is finally free from the pile of attackers and I help her up. She seems very catatonic, unresponsive and unaware. Just wanders deeper into the dream and I let her go, returning to the bar.
This other dream character comes up who watched the fight and was amazed. I tell him I am not that into violence, but being a dream it’s not a big deal. I decide to recreate the situation but make the characters all monsters, alien like and animate them all. It looks very cool, fun to play with the dream mechanics and create limitlessness with the whim of imagination.
The creatures fight in an epic battle and I sip a beer and watch the show. It doesn’t last much longer as I wake up. Thus concluding yet another adventure in the land of dreams.