I have two recurring dreams, and both involve flying. In one, I’m alone in the cabin of a commercial airliner, and the cockpit door is open, where I can see the single pilot flying the plane. We are flying at extremely low altitude, maybe a thousand feet above the ground, at a speed just above that which would stall the aircraft. The pilot seems under control of the plane, but I’m too anxious to distract him by asking why we’re flying so low and slowly. I constantly look out the windows on the right side as we weave through a mountainous region, looking for a place to land. What is particularly spectacular are the vivid, bright colors of the rainforest just below us. The colors remind me of the cinematography from the land of Shangri-La in the movie Lost Horizons. The dream never varies, and my anxiety and fascination never change in their intensity.
In the other dream, I can fly simply by using my body. I walk quickly and lean forward, extending my arms, and I lift off the ground. I maintain flight by undulating my body slowly, like a dolphin swimming, and the deeper the undulation, the higher I rise. What is interesting about this dream is that when I first starting having it, I worried about falling out of the sky like Icarus, whose waxed wings were melted by flying too close to the sun, but over time I’ve grown more confident in my ability and rarely worry about falling. This dream varies each time: there are always friends and family with me, but ever-changing ones. I show off my talent to the awed crowd as I soar above them, describing the vistas I see that that are beyond their sight on the ground. Every dream occurs in a different land, somewhere exotic where I’ve never been, and the curiosity to explore my new surroundings spurs me into the air. The feeling I get when I lift away from terra firma is indescribable, and its intensity never diminishes regardless of the number of times I’ve enjoyed the dream.
I haven’t an idea what these dreams mean, but I’m open for suggestions.
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