Lucid Moon

Incredible dream I had two years ago.

June 2011

On a car drive home one April night he spit it out. It had been an unexpected proposal.

“Will you be my lady?” he had said. That night to celebrate, he popped into a corner store to buy nitrous oxide and we did whip-its in bed.

Soon after, he helped me move out of my dirty basement apartment and into an adorable blue house on Corbett Street in John’s Landing with two girl friends of mine. The three of us posed happily on the concrete porch in front of the house’s bright red front door. On the first night we made dinner and sat happily in front of cable television.

Parties became common in the house and people were always around. I enjoyed coming home to voices and sleeping with sounds of movement outside my door.

The neighborhood was quiet and the scented air of the river not even a mile away sent refreshing vibes sweeping up the hill.

Wes* hung out often with us at the house, as well as friends and boyfriends of my other roommates. Friendship between Aubrey* and I blossomed, I was making good money at the crepe stand at the Portland Farmers Market, and I started to feel like I was really part of a good crew of people.

Memories were made at that house that still live in black and white instagram magnets that are now hanging out on my fridge.

One night after getting exceedingly wasted and drunkenly preparing the most delicious French toast ever created, two friends of mine passed out on the massive California king bed I had.

It is necessary at this point to mention that I had been practicing a lot of lucid dreaming since the beginning of spring. Every night before bed I would flip the lights off, on, off again. I spent up to two minutes staring intensely at my hands. I could access the spirit world once in awhile if I took these rituals every night. I stopped practicing it after awhile though, and the dream that followed this summer night of fun and stomachs full of French potato bread toast was the first revisit for a couple weeks.

The evening’s festivities followed me into dreamland. The bass of the music grew, along with the size of the house and the crowd of partiers. I floated, mingled, danced in slow motion. Then, slowly, the lucidity began. The second that I became aware of it, I prepared myself and slowed down the panic. I knew what was coming, so I looked down at my hands. Immediately I became more grounded. Then my confidence started to rise and the excitement bubbled in my chest. What should I do, what should I do?! I could go mess with people… I could manifest Wes or another hot babe and let my imagination will the rest into action… No. This is the spirit world. I can do anything.

The party scene was only the catalyst. The action inside the house slowed and suddenly I was almost invisible. I started to walk towards the door. My feet bounced like it would if I were on the moon. Reality was so close but if I focused, it could exist in both places. I was alone as I floated through the crowd that pulsed like a single living thing, unaware of me. I reached the door and stepped outside. My friends were socializing on the lawn and I drew attention from them as I stood firmly on the concrete landing and stared up into the sky, which as I let it, manifested into a clear star scattered void. My senses were at their full capacity and I felt everything as if I was awake. The summer air was unexpectedly chilly and my sight was surreally sharp. Faces in the grass faded as I zeroed in on the massive yellow-white orb that materialized above my head.

That’s it. I’m gonna go to the moon.

Feet positioned securely, I looked at my hands again. My gaze followed them as they lifted up, away from my chest, and finally against the sky, fingertips laying against the black blanket which the moon was suspended upon. I willed my body to rise, and my feet left the ground as easily as taking a step forward off of the porch. I flew slowly at first, and when I realized how far off the ground I was and how my friends and the lawn were not visible behind me, the air turned colder. My conscious ego started to return in small pieces, and with it came thoughts of palpable facts of life and science. Isn’t it cold in space? Should I have prepared better and brought a jacket or a blanket?

The speed of my trajectory towards the moon was rising exponentially. The fear bubbled in my stomach, which only made me shiver more. I wanted to go there so bad… But what does one do once they get to the moon? Won’t I lose my breath and suffocate when I reach the edge of the atmosphere?

I wasn’t ready. My gut made this clear to my brain and even though I had now allowed myself to be carried away by whatever force was now facilitating this, I had to force myself to come out.

It was not easy, but like a diver swimming up to the surface, I breathed myself back into my body and found myself in chilly sweat that had dampened the sheets underneath me. The ceiling fan spun relentlessly directly above my head and I realized why I had been so cold.

Author's Note

**Names are changed either dramatically or hardly at all