The Lucid Dream

January 1, 2021 was my 30th birthday. I had a dream that night that I was walking along a beach, watching waves of pale blue green crashing onto the shore.

It was beautiful but I recognized the unnaturalness of this particular beauty as not being of the material world. I recognized this shoreline for what it really was—a break between physical reality and material nonexistence.

“Hm. A lucid dream,” I thought to myself.

I knew what would happen next, as I’ve had these dreams before. I was surrounded by a presence, or multiple presences not of this world. Invisible yet somehow known to me, they propelled me upward from my place on the shore and into the sky. I felt my body begin to vibrate with this presence, as if I were being immersed in an atmosphere of higher pressure than my body was designed for. This heightened pressure gave me the sense that my spirit was being released from my body.

This is where I normally wake myself up, too frightened to want to know what happens next.

But that night, I decided to stay asleep and see what would happen.

I rose higher and higher into the sky, moving faster than the speed of light. I resisted the urge to close my dream eyes, and watched as the earth grew smaller beneath me.

“Fear is an illusion,” I repeated to myself over and over, trying to calm my racing heart.

Then I saw it below me. The curve of the earth itself as I floated in space above it. I saw bright white clouds and amber storms below. I saw the stars in the distance. Awestruck by the sight, I wondered why I was here.

The beings that had brought me here sent me the wordless message that there was no purpose for this trip. This was a gift that was being given to me because I wasn’t too afraid to accept it.

I smiled my wordless thanks and found myself back in my bed.

Not a bad way to start the new year.

(C) 2021 Barbara Gray – no content may be used or reproduced without permission of the author.

The Nightmare

In her dream she was with him again.

They were back in the old house. The nightmare house she secretly called it.

Arguing. Senseless arguing. Arguing about a topic.

What topic?

The blue front door with brass doorknob. If she could just reach it—just pull it open—

Heart racing.

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her backward, back into the nightmare house, back into the nightmare.

Nightmare.

Could this be? Yes. It must be. If he was here this must be a nightmare. He shouldn’t be here anymore.

He was going to kill her this time, she knew. She could sense the fate that she couldn’t avoid creeping up on her like the shadow of a cloud passing across the sun. Did it matter if it was only a nightmare?

Wake up. Wake up. Please wake up.

Wait. What had she learned?

Sit with the discomfort. That was the phrase. Learn to sit with the discomfort. Stop avoiding pain.

Deep breath.

Blinding light.

The dreamscape around her transformed. Where there was darkness, now there was light. Though no door had opened she found herself outside on the familiar sidewalk. The sky an unnatural deep blue. The atmosphere comfortingly hazy like the mist of a just-ended summer rain.

He was still there, but he was no longer a threat. Back turned. He walked away from her down the sidewalk.

It was so beautiful she cried.

(C) 2021 Barbara Gray – no content may be used or reproduced without permission of the author