For the last week, I've been dreaming instead of sleeping.
Somewhere around what I imagine is two or three in the morning, my mind becomes alive, and the rest of the night is full of vivid dreams, with intermittent wakings/pondering/falling back into my dreams.
In my life, I've only had one or two dreams of falling, but I've had hundreds of flying dreams. They used to be a constant, as was my constant vivid dreaming. I guess it was somewhere around the time I had children where I began waking from mostly "dreamless" sleep. Major sleep deprivation, no doubt. One dream this week was flying. Not a typical flying dream for me.
I wasn't soaring through the sky. I was inside a home. A home that belonged to friends, but bore no resemblance to their actual home. I was able to engage all of my muscles, and in doing so, float up to the ceiling. In one of my wakings, I noted how sore my abs and arms felt. And when I drifted back to the dream, I hoped that I wouldn't grow too tired to continue lifting myself from the ground and remain suspended in air. After a while, another friend came, and I was trying to teach her how to do what I was doing. Floating more than flying, but the sensation was the same.
I've been tired this week, but I don't mind because vivid dreams are familiar friends I don't see enough of. It's comforting to wake up having learned something from my subconscious. I love dreams and what they make me feel.
I must admit that ever since my floating dream, I've found myself working to align the energy in and around me in hopes that my feet will lift off the floor.
Dreams
18 January 2014
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