We gathered under the stars and spoke about each other's tales during our nights. My brothers and I were active dreamers. They were more apt at it than I was, in the sense that they could fly. I could not. They could manipulate their dreams and watch themselves sleep. I always wanted that. Instead, I dreamed of dark waters, upside down houses and armies of ghosts in the attics. I did have nice dreams, very colorful dreams, and as I grew up, the nightmares ceased. But more on that later. I was jealous of their ability over the dream realm as I was always fascinated by it. The possibilities of alternative lives every night. For me, sleep was just another way to live while my body rested. I wanted to make the best out of it.
It all began with how I learned to fly. In every dream I found consciousness, I jumped from each high place I could fly from. Buildings with numberless stairs. Mountains. Cliffs. lt was not suicidal, I knew I was dreaming, being almost naked while standing on snow and still feeling warm pretty much proved the case. The one time I knew 100% I remember the expression on my friend’s face as I explained to her that I could fly. It was just a dream.
So I jumped. And I jumped and I jumped. Sometimes I glided. Others I just bounced. Others I floated. Others I fell and woke up with a jolt. But soon enough I found myself soaring across the sea. The sea was a trigger, I had to keep flying. I was afraid of the dark deep sea. And knowing that I was above the sea gave me a sense of freedom.
Being able to escape to alternate fantasies. Meeting creatures and seeing places you would otherwise never see. Though the lack of sense is there, the sense of awe is ever present in full consciousness, and that was all worth it.
During the most wishful period of my life, about 15 years later, I had my first conscious astral flight. I do not remember much but it had something to do with coming to the country I currently am, but ending up meeting other dreamers inside the dream world. I heard foreign languages and saw the guide of another person.
Later I began to suffer an increasing amount of sleep paralysis. I only saw ghosts once or twice. I never saw demons. Once I saw angels. It was never too scary but still a shock. One day I realized that if I did not fight it, I could fly, for real. I decided not to be afraid of it. The rush of energy waves arrived as loud as ever. The shaking feeling as if a train was passing by. I focused on it and replaced fear with joy. Excitement. Curiosity.
No darkness could harm me if I was in light. My body began to shake to the vibration I was commanding. And just like that I jumped out of my body . I crossed the door before I decided to fly. It happened a couple of times after. But it subsided. Now I miss it. I wish I could Astral Travel again. Though lately it has proven hard.
In the few journeys I wrote down there was one interesting one. I wanted to meet my spiritual guides in a beautiful garden. I commanded this, but instead, I got a boy in a bubble at a jungle who looked at me, he smiled and said, “don’t worry, you just need a little patience.” Afterwards, I found myself back in my body.
I still have not had another in over 5 years. My goal always was to recreate my inner world in the dream world. But now everytime I try, the exhaustion of adulthood wins and I fall asleep every single time.
I believe in the Astral Body. I believe in the multiple dimensions you can explore with it. I believe we are more than the mass of our molecules. I believe there is more and more and never ending life.