Once, during the month of May, I incubated flying dreams for two weeks
straight. I simply affirmed aloud, "You can fly! You can fly!" several times
during the day. I used this particular wording because I wanted to fly in
the dream state along with other dream characters.
In the first dream, rather than repeat the incubation phrase, I declared to
a dream character, "I can fly! I can fly!" Despite saying this, I did
wonder if I really could get off the ground. I had a vague recollection of
recent difficulty doing so (in the dream state). I made the attempt anyway
and surprised myself at how quickly and easily I got airborne. Rising, I
automatically went into a sequence of loops and spins in the air, shooting
off and soaring quite high, pursuing an automobile below me. I quickly
overtook the cars on the highway beneath. I astonished and delighted myself
with how fast I could soar, and with such a smooth acrobatic style.
In the second dream of this series, I realized that I could fly because a
dream character called me a "shaman." (Not true in waking life.) I tried to
get airborne by taking off towards the top of a hill in the hope that the
wind would catch me and buoy me up. It would for just a few moments; then
I'd land again on the downward slanting grassy slope. This happened a couple
of times in a row. Since I was landing closer and closer to the base of the
hill, I became concerned that I would not get fully airborne before I
reached the bottom. However, just before I arrived there, I was able to
project myself mentally, so that I did indeed seem to be soaring across the
tops of fog-shrouded hills.
Despite my success, the one constant in these first two dreams was a
disappointment. I was the only one who was flying, although I was flying to
do something for the other dream characters. In the first dream, I was
trying to retrieve a suitcase stolen by a couple who were fleeing in their
automobile. In the second case, I was assisting in a search for a Native
American boy. As wonderful as these flying scenarios were, they were both
Lone Ranger adventures. As delightful as the soaring felt, I was the only
one there to enjoy it.
So I kept affirming that I wanted more people involved. Just before falling
asleep the third night, I thought maybe saying, "We can fly!" might do the
trick. This night I had just finished several days' battle with influenza
and was taking antibiotics for a bacterial infection. As with previous
nights, the initial dreams had me on a long journey. There didn't seem much
that responded to my flying request.
Rising, I went to the bathroom and returned to sleep. I fell into deep
dreaming, so deep that the last dream of the night I could scarcely recall.
I probably would not have remembered it at all if it hadn't been so active.
For my dreaming self had finally granted my wish.
In the dream, I was one of three couples who were dancing...in the air!
Flying together, dancing together. Using very graceful movements, rhythmic
actions and vigorous acrobatics. At first the music was quite melodic. A
woman with short, dark hair was swirling around in a full skirt with a
slender man who had a beard. He may have been my partner at one point. We
certainly did some partner switching, doe-see-doeing in the air.
Then I was somersaulting with a young, dark haired man who was dressed in a
black tuxedo with longer-than-usual tails. After flipping over, I raised my
knees and playfully bumped against him, in time with the music, which has
shifted into a rumba tune. The whole affair was very joyous.
For the past year or so I had been experiencing a slowdown in my physical
ability to get-up-and-go. In the morning it would usually take 10 or 12
robot-like steps before my body would loosen up and begin moving in its
normal free-flowing manner. This morning I awoke at 6:28 A.M., two minutes
before the alarm was due to go off. I reviewed the dream, reveling in the
feelings of swirling and the joy of being with the other people.
At 6:30 the radio came on with a rollicking rock-and-roll tune of the type
of rhythm that always sets my toes to tapping. I just could not ignore it.
Throwing back the covers, I leapt from the bed and starting bugalooing
around the room, jerking and turning in time with the music. I ended up on
the other side of the bed, where my husband was lying.
He opened one eye, looked and me and said, "I guess this means you're
feeling better." I kept flinging out my arms and legs, hopping and swirling
around, all the way to the bathroom. It was then that I suddenly realized
that my body had been demonstrating a degree of flexibility unlike any I had
experienced in a long time. There was simply no problem of stiffness at all.