Flying for the first time

I flew for the first time in a lucid dream this morning. It felt amazing.



I was floating, suspended above an incredible view over a small hamlet at what seemed like the moments before dusk. The sky was pink and lilac. And I knew that I was flying.



“I'm flying, and this is a dream," I marveled, and then I pulled a nosedive towards the ground and found myself slipping into the conscious world again.



The flight felt indescribably good. Like a lifting of the heart, a rush of flowing energy to the body. Like coasting down a smooth road on a bike without any friction or physical touch. Pure joy.



Once lucid, I wanted to take a closer look at the ground. Like my other lucid dreams, the surprise of understanding that this was lucidity propelled me back into waking life.



And I heard music. I remember only three notes: A flat, E flat, B flat above that. I heard harmonies, but I don't recall what they were. I knew immediately that this wasn't a song I've heard in the past, but one that I was meant to record.