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.


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