CanisLucidus

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #243: Silent Lucidity

I’m hanging out with Dreamer in a carpeted den and we’re talking excitedly about how a group of us (Dreamer, Jenkees, anotherdreamer, and I) made audio recordings that make us sound like complete idiots. (This is a true waking life memory! I recorded myself using a special audio trick that Dreamer found which made me sound like a complete idiot. The others made their recordings overnight and Dreamer skyped me about this during WBTB.)

Nearby there’s a statue of a tall, naked, muscular woman striding forward while extending her arm toward the sky. The woman is wearing a basket across her lower back and there are three towel-like bundles in the basket. Dreamer tells me that these bundles are the “idiot” voice recordings and that they’ll be ready soon. Dreamer and I lay on the carpeted floor maybe ten feet apart, facing each other and propped up on an elbow. We talk for a while about various things, mostly related to dreaming. I consider the idea that I’m dreaming right now and yes, this is a dream!

I tell Dreamer that all of this is a dream and she smiles, calmly agreeing. We talk a little about the voice recordings, and then I tell her that I can’t remember my goals right now, but I’m content to just chat for a while. She asks me why I’m not wearing my SleepPhones to bed and I tell her that those are fleece and it still doesn’t feel cold enough. I tell her, “And you only know about the SleepPhones because this is a dream!” (Meaning that she knows I'm not wearing them.) She laughs.

I remember that I had a goal of facing a fear. Dreamer and I had recently discussed how we’re both very fearful about awkward silences with friends. I allow the conversation to pause. Dreamer seems to understand what I’m doing and her eyes flick once nervously to the left before locking back on to mine for good. I feel a sharp flutter of panic at first and I’m tempted to blah-blah-blah the moment away, but I resist it and maintain our eye contact. My hands knead the carpet to help keep the dream stable. After I’m past the initial fear, my mantra “Look for the dream” returns to me. Dreamer’s mouth turns up in a half smile as my fear gives way to calm.

After a while, I say, “[Jenkees] must be here, right? I really want to meet him!” Dreamer grins at this idea and agrees. We both stand up and I gesture toward the adjacent hallway, saying, “Ah look, [Jenkees] is even here right now!” A rather doughy, pasty guy who looks nothing like Jenkees walks through the door and joins us in the den.

I notice that he’s way too short. “[Jenkees], you’re supposed to be so much taller than this!” The guy smiles sheepishly and starts shrinking even more until he’s only waist height.

Dreamer and I laugh at how badly I’ve botched this summon. “Sorry, [Jenkees],” I say. “I’ll do better with this next time!”

Dreamer and I try to talk a bit more about dream goals, but it isn’t long before the dream ends.