I found my hands in my dream.

If someone told me, what I am about to tell, I am not sure if I would believe it.

So check this.

I read a book on how to control your dreams. I don’t remember the name of the book, or anything else in it. It was a long time a ago. The one thing that I do remember is an exercise in the book suggesting that if you could find your hands in your dreams, that you would have the ability to control the dream.

The exercise was to find your hands in your dream and raise them up in front of your face so you could look at your palms. The book claimed that if you looked at your palms, you would be unable to bring the image of your hands into focus. This fact would be your clue that you were dreaming and it is at this point that you relax and take over the dream.

I don’t know who came up with this exercise, but it is an extraordinary experience, a weird, living-virtual-reality.

So I decided ( told myself silently ) that I would try to find my hands.  It was a time when dreams came a lot easier. Some nights I would have two or 3 separate dreams. On the first night nothing happened, my dreams were normal.

On the second night. I awoke in the middle of the night in realization that I had just raised my hands in front of my face.  I could not contain the excitement and woke up in disbelief. My eyes and my mouth were wide open.

And then, I finally did it. I was in a small town, on an unpainted, wooden porch, in front of a small house, on the main street. It was gloomy. Shady looking characters were passing by and going about their way. A dark, tall figure was coming down the street on my left, and I was worried.

While sitting on the floor of the porch, I remembered to raise my hand, and looked into my palms. There were no lines, it was blurry, and I knew I was dreaming. At that moment I could have opened my eyes. I was semi-conscious of what was going on. I kept my eyes closed and held on to my dream. In my dream, I sat up and looked at the stranger as he approached me, letting him know that I was not afraid. He walked right pass me as if I was not there. I then got up and walked down the street behind him well aware that I was dreaming. I did not get very far and was awakened by my excitement.

I managed to find my hand a few times in my dreams. It was surreal. It was like I got to go backstage in my mind.

Amazing Dream

Looking thru a box of my stuff, I found this amazing dream I had written down on a sketchpad that I kept along my bedside. If you  dream regularly, I suggest you put a pad and a pencil on your bedside to write your dreams as soon as you awake.  Many times I would wake up in the middle of the night and write down my dreams. This is one on them. I had forgotten about this dream and I am so glad I wrote it down. As I read it all the images came back to me. The following is as I wrote it, except for a few punctuation changes.

8-6-12  /  1:00    (at one o’clock I wrote an outline of my dream so as not to forget)

Alone

Desert Sand

Rock

Snake

Rabbit (Hare) Bushtail Covered in Dust

Child

Woman

Man

Murder

And then 8-6-12 / 1:23 (at one twenty three I wrote the following)

I was alone. There was nothing but sand, and then I noticed this beautiful rock. I was fixated, it had a sheen. From beneath the rock came a gliding snake wearing a cardigan, … nah-for real,

and then, I saw this dusty hare, his pink eyes inquired, did I care? Before you knew it, I heard a child cry. A barefooted toddler of olive skin, he mumbled something and gave me a big grin.

I knew I had to rescue this child. There was a woman laying across a dead tree. I shook my head, this could not be. My mind it raced, it was full of sin. I thanked the Lord, I just might win. My face it glowed, a foolish grin.

I licked my lips and pulled back my shoulder and that was when I saw, the man. Immediately, I had a plan. I set him up to come over and then I will hit him with a boulder.

I hit him hard across the head. I hit him until he was dead.

And then, like that, “snap”, it was all gone and there I stood (again) alone in the roasting sand, wishing that it wasn’t true, hoping I would run into you.

I must accept that this is true.