Butterfly, or a man?

I had THE COOOOOLEST lucid dream this morning.  I hadn’t had one in months, I’ve been trying so hard, and nothing.  I was worried.  At around 4am my downstairs neighbor started rocking out to NPR super crazy loud (as one will do), and woke me up.  It took me forever to get back to sleep, perhaps putting me into extended Theta (deep brain wave, that in-between wake and sleep), and that’s why I finally became lucid?  Dunno.

It was so very fun, lots of flying!  I flew through clouds and they felt all misty, then I dove down into water and moved the sea floor, cruised through buildings, did gymnastics, lots of telekinesis, talked to some folks, man…oh!, and the men.  Good times, good times indeed.

I woke up to my alarm and was a bit upset.  Everything was so heavy.  I quickly got ready, my head still totally in the dream. (My outfit only sorta-kinda matches…)  The bike ride to work was very 80’s Nintendo Paperboy-like, with people and cars jumping out at me everywhere, cranky morning scowls abound.  What a friggin’ juxtaposition!  Ooofta.

Now I’m at my temp job, looking through ER notes to determine if the visit was legit for an insurance company.  Waa-waa-waaaa.  ‘Tis a heavy world…   Oh well, I have about 2.5 hours of work to get done in 8, so I’ll go on…

Have I told you guys about Chuang Tzu?  Well I will.  He was a badass Chinese Taoist, up in the ranks with Lao Tzu (who wrote the book), way back in 360-ish BC.  One night he had a dream.  He was a butterfly.  He flew about and enjoyed his butterfly life, wholly identifying as this butterfly.  Rockin’ them flowers, flitting about with his purty wings.  Just owning being a butterfly, totally loved it.

He woke up confused by this other body.  It had felt so real.  He was that butterfly. He had had no awareness of this Chuang Tzu dude, and now he suddenly was him again.  Wingless, with no nectar-swilling apparatus.

Or was he a butterfly, now dreaming he was a man?

What was “real”?  I think it’s all real.  Also it’s all an illusion and nothing is “real”.  This heavy life where I’m a Meghan is equally real as the light life of my lucid dream where I was an often body-less point of consciousness, conjuring up awesome on a whim.  More than that, I’m the observer of both of those lives.  Whoa, right?  Matrix and shit, yo.

Alright.  Gotta file them TPS reports…waaa-waaa-waaa….


3 thoughts on “Butterfly, or a man?

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