Lately I’ve been getting pretty good at flying.
Once a month, or every couple of months, I have a flying dream. Lately they’ve been intentional, as just before I fall asleep, or when I awaken into another sleeping pattern in the middle of the night or early morning, I say to myself “I really fancy another flying dream”. Starting to take control of your dreams is often termed “lucid dreaming”, usually best experienced in lighter stages of sleep than in deep or exhausted sleep. I’ve done this various times, to turn around dreams that have gotten out of hand, situations that are getting ugly, and lately in order to experience true joy and freedom.
My last flying dream a couple of days ago was very interesting. In the previous flying dream, I restricted myself to an abandoned house that my sister was going to buy, so that I could practice flying without anyone knowing. For some reason, it was important to keep this a secret, and not let anyone know of my special power. In the latest dream, I took it outside, and didn’t really care who saw me flying around. It was freedom in every sense.
Feeling a bit homesick, I decided to go and visit my childhood home in flight mode, and then I was flying up my parents’ street, seeing the house and the hills and miles of forest behind. I thought “Wouldn’t it be cool to see my hills and forest from the air? I’ve never seen them from that vantage point. It would be great to see home from a bird’s eye view.” I swooped past the house and rose up high into the air, past the ridge letting the vast expanse opened out before me.
Only it wasn’t home. Or at least, it wasn’t the home of my childhood.
Spreading out before me was the gently rolling hills, fields, hedgerows and landscape of England. I shook my head and went back down for another swoosh up, telling myself that this time I would see home. Again, the same thing happened.
I slowly came out of the dream, exhilarated by all that flying. But I pondered the meaning of my semi-lucid state. I wasn’t able to see what I wanted to see. Or was I?
I have lived in Britain for over 15 years now. This dream has confirmed that this is my home now. While a large part of me will always remain in the hills and valleys, rivers and lakes of my home where I grew up, this is where I do my work, live my life, work with the ancestors and the gods. It was a beautiful affirmation of home, and freedom.
In what I suppose became a semi-lucid state, my sub-conscious helped me to realise and take to heart something that I had only considered in my head. Now I was able to feel it wholly, truly, in my entire being. I feel lucky and blessed.
May you all fly free!
Down the Forest Path 
Nothing like knowing where to call home! I’m rather surprised, though, that you try to apply so much control to your lucid dreaming. I know we are all different, and do things differently – I prefer, for example, to allow my mind to go where it will in that state, allowing my conscious mind to simply remain aware. This enables the rest of my mind to speak uninterrupted. I would have had you pegged as the same kind of dreamer, a bit more passive. I guess we’re all full of surprises 🙂
I find the dreamworld a great place to work out issues, much like shamanic journeying to the other worlds. A degree of control is always a good thing – but it doesn’t always happen lol!
What a wonderful affirmation of your place in your environment! I have encountered the spirits, gods and ancestors of these islands assuring me this is my home and that they have rooted me here and no earthly or temporal power can alter that reality. That I have to take on trust.
It is a remarkable and blessed experience to see your space and feel yourself in your space as that flying dream has done for you. It is now something you Know in your heart and soul, it is not just knowledge in your head.
Am very happy for you. Good things are happening for you now. A cause for rejoicing and gratitude. xx
🙂
When I was a child I was adept at lucid dreaming, particularly between the ages of 7 – 10. Now, in my 30s, it’s rare. I have maybe 3 or 4 a year with varying levels of lucidity.