I hurt my back yesterday and was laying in bed this morning for an extra few hours to recuperate, going in and out of dreams.
I’m sitting in a large living room of an unfamiliar house with the lucid dreaming group. We’re talking about scheduling the next meeting for 2:30 instead of 2. It occurs to me that right now it’s dark outside. That isn’t normal. We meet in the daytime. Is this a dream?
“Why are we here at night?” I ask. “This doesn’t make sense.”
No response from them.
I stand up to get my bearings, feeling the nature of the environment with my hands to confirm it’s a dream, and floating up slightly off my feet as another confirmation.
The dream characters, now exposed, turn into demons and crawl away into the shadows. They don’t concern me.
I hear Sierra from the dream group beyond the wall. She’s in her own apartment next door. I walk up to the wall with exposed boards and rods put together in a strange layered way. I figure out how to touch the pieces of the wall to make them yield to my will and allow me to gently break them as I push them to either side.
She’s a bit upset that I tore apart her wall.
I’m standing in front of a barbed wire fence. Some friends I’m trying to get to are in the field beyond. I put my fingers against each wire, waiting for a couple seconds until it softens and I can break it apart gently, then walk through.
I then get wrapped up this dream as well. There are a few more dreams, but nothing particularly lucid.
I didn’t do what I had intended, which was to work on stabilizing my dream environment better, but the very soft touch required to break apart objects felt profound. It reminds me of the stories of spoon bending.