What Dreams May Come

I love my dreams. I hated taking muscle relaxers because they interfered with enjoyment of my dreamscape. In particular, the medications fucked with my lucidity in the dream world. I've gotten quite good at the whole lucid dreaming thing over the years. More often than not, I can halt things and recognize it's all a dream as well as make changes and choices in the dream domain. I haven't really tried to develop this skill mind you; there are books and articles devoted to lucid dreaming and how to do it if you're inclined  I explored this in part because I used to have terrible nightmares. When I heard that people could actually change the course of their dreams, I just did it the next time I had an awful dream.
No really. I was an adult before I heard about this. I had night terrors as a kid. This lucid dreaming thing would've been super helpful.

Dammit! Why didn't someone tell me this shit?

My awful dreams were those paralyzing can't run, being chased, monster lurking to get me, or teeth falling out type dreams. I recall one where I was in my parent's house (I was still a teen then) and it was black outside, but I knew something was stalking me from out there. I never saw it, just felt it and it's insidious menace waiting to get me. I couldn't leave and I couldn't call out; I was trapped. It was going to get me. I woke up in a panic.

Another awful one involved a shape shifting black thingy that often plagued me. It shook my bed, and I saw it's black, billowing appendages coming up over the bed to get me. Cue the panic again.

Sleep paralysis and nightmares produce some wicked artwork.

Then my husband casually suggested the next time I had a dream like that, I should change it. I was perplexed. Who could control their dreams? I certainly never felt all that in control.
The first time I tried to take control in a dream, it was one of the being chased dreams. Luckily, I could run in this one. When I felt like I was trapped and couldn't escape the faceless entity that was chasing me, I remembered that hey! This was a dream and I could invent an escape hatch. Consequently, a sewer appeared. I lifted the cover off and disappeared down into the sewers where I found other "survivors" who showed me the way home. I woke from that one feeling quite proud of myself.

Another time I lucid dreamt, I was in a zombie apocalypse scenario with only a shovel. At some point I recall thinking, this is my dream. I need more than a shovel to take out these undead armies that are swarming me. Just then, I found a baseball bat, then an axe, then a sword, but never a cricket bat.

I totally kicked zombie butt with that sword.

Another lucid dream that did not involve mortal danger was set way back before the Industrial Age and I was outside in a courtyard under the moon. I felt myself starting to rise up as if I was about to take flight. When I realized this, I decided that in my dreams I could jump up higher and fly. So I did. It took a few bounding attempts, but I got there. I awoke triumphant. I wish I had more flying dreams. I can't describe just how fantastic they are.

I can fly! Just not at will or when I'm awake.

Most of my dreams are fairly strange as dreams tend to be. I love waking up and trying to puzzle through what the hell my subconscious was trying to work through in the night. I love reading research on dreaming and how it helps us to recall information and solidify learning. I think of the mind at night as some kind of warehouse where bits of the day's ruminations are being transported, evaluated, discarded, or processed for future access.

I'm fairly certain mine is not this orderly.

But holy crap! Sometimes the things my mind turns out in a  night are fairly fucked up. Take last week for instance. I had a dream that's stuck with me for days now.

I was in a car with my parents and sister. I was in the back with my sister like it was a family trip when we were kids. We were somewhere that wasn't exactly clear to me, but my dad popped the car into reverse. I became aware that we were in a tunnel of some kind. It was getting blacker the further we went in reverse. Then I heard my mom tell dad to stop moving, and that's when it happened. There was no more ground under us. Our car tipped backward off some cliff and plunged downward. My sister said nothing. I heard my mom scream. I heard dad say something about "No dear God!" or the like. I just remained calm and silent. I thought, "Huh. This is how it happens then? I won't get to see my husband. I wish I could say good-bye." 

I recall not feeling like there wasn't any rush in the free fall, and I recall being perfectly at ease with the thought that I was going to die; no praying or reverting to my family's faith was going to change that. I thought to myself that dying was dying and there was nothing waiting but blackness. 

I remember thinking to myself that I would just wait for the impact since there was nothing else to be done. I was completely rational about hurtling toward oblivion.

Like this only less light.

Eventually I got the sensation of floating upward, and I gently woke up. I wasn't panicky or worked up in anyway; oddly calm for someone who was perilously close to answering the question about what happens if you die in your dream. I actually thought to myself right before waking about what would happen if I actually went squish at the bottom of whatever pit we were plummeting down. I was a wee bit disappointed I wouldn't be finding out. 

I've been chewing on the meaning of this dream for a while now. As far as I can tell, it signals some big spiritual awakening and change in my life. I'm going through some kind of transformation again and it's major. It also isn't well-known, but I feel guilt or shame about something that needs to be let go. The actual falling and weird calm I felt speaks to me being able to overcome challenges easily.  I also know that my husband and I had a fairly in depth conversation about death and grief before bed that night. I also was feeling a lack of direction heading into a new year as well as demands of both personal and professional nature. Throw in the strengthening conviction that I have no belief in the divine afterlife which is a strongly held belief in my family, and viola! You get this. 

Odd thing about this whole dream is, it was the calm that I found most unsettling as I reflected. Why on earth was I so calm when most people would be freaking out? I can only conclude that my awareness of it being a dream brought me the peace to ride out whatever storyline twist was going to happen. Guess I'll just keep pulling away at layers of my subconscious to find out what's underneath.