I took an incredible and massive leap off of the earth, landing on the Moon. I found myself
atop an enormous mountain peak where I sat nestled into the barren grey rocks, a large camera
in hand. From here, I had a most direct shot through the clouds to witness the sun. If I peered
through the camera lens, I could look directly into it’s light. The clouds moved in most mysterious
ways, telescoping towards me while they evaporated and re-formed. Silky-smooth, rounded clouds
that moved swiftly and yet never growing closer.
The ground I was resting on was dangerously steep, hence why I sat nestled back safely into the
rocks surrounding me. As I gazed across the landscape of the moon, I realized that there was no
flat surface—thus making the moon quite uninhabitable. I felt timid to even stand for fear that I may
plummet to my death.
It was at this moment that I became lucid, realizing this is a dream. I looked about me with this
new insight. A great confusion came over me. I knew that in order to get back to earth, I probably
have to make a leap in the same manner as I had gotten to the moon. It made some sense, and yet
in full observation of my surroundings, I could feel that there was still very real physical danger. The
lucidity was trying to make sense of the sleeping and waking world—There was a knowledge that
somewhere I was laying in a bed asleep, but in this very moment, I was also atop an enormous
peak on the moon. I deducted again that I probably have to make a leap back to earth. But I felt
gravity on my body, the wind on my skin, and the fear that if I leapt over this giant cliff, I would plummet
to my death.
The thought came to me that perhaps the moon was the dream-state, but that the cliff was the waking world, and that I was somewhere between the two. If this were true, then jumping off the cliff would bring death, while remaining on the moon kept me within the dream state. So how to return to earth? What if I leapt, but became stuck in orbit around the earth, in a perpetual state of free-fall. There must be another way. I began an attempt to manifest another solution. If this was indeed a dream, then I should be able to conjure-up a solution from my own being. Still, I lacked this dream practice, and so it felt equivalent to practicing jedi-skills in waking life.
While in the space of pondering this, an older man with a young daughter floated up gracefully on a
flying carpet. It was natural for me to climb onto it with them while none of us exchanged any words.
We all had to re-adjust to an awkward new weight distribution, and the flying carpet, which was more like a thick wool blanket, sagged a little underneath each of us. We each grabbed a hold of the front of the blanket as we accelerated away from the moon’s vast mountain range.