Snovid's diary

Chapter 9. Revolution

My subsequent experience was the most vivid one in all my dreaming practice.

I was sitting in my Kiev apartment, the place where I lived most of my childhood. This is a place I see quite often in my ordinary dreams. In this dream, I was in my room looking out of the window on a warm summer day. On the other side of the street, I saw a two-story house with tall poplars rising behind it. We lived on the 4th floor then, so it was easy for me to see behind the building.

When I realized that I was dreaming, this was still the beginning of my dream, I was just looking out of the window. Somehow the realization had come to me. My mother was in the room with me. Not real, but still mom. From our differences in height, I reached up to her shoulder, I could discern that I was about 10 years old.

I remembered my checklist. Recently, I had begun following priorities in my dreams to make them more efficient. According to a book by Castaneda, there were two priorities: I have to ask the Snovids to teach me something, or I must find, and then pass through the wall of fog.

I went up to my mother.

I know that I am dreaming and that you are not really her. But I want to study.

Mom went to the window and opened it wide. Warm summer air filled the room.

- We'll go to the clearing. She said, pointing to the sun-drenched clearing between the neighboring houses.

I immediately realized that she wanted me to jump there, but even knowing that this was a dream the prospect of free fall terrified me too much, and I still couldn't consistently fly by waving my arms. She caught on to my hesitancy and, having now climbed onto the windowsill, offered a lesson in soaring. I become immediately very interested.

The lesson was without words, I somehow read her mind: Instead of jumping down, spread your arms like wings and use the invisible strings that span the air to slide down. Then she showed me how by demonstrating it. Like a paper airplane, she soared in a straight line down to the clearing. I followed her example and spread my arms. It was as if I could feel strings against my skin that went from the window to my destination. Along these strings, I rappelled myself down smoothly. This lesson was quite enjoyable.

Feeling bold, I asked her next whether she could lead me through the wall of fog.

No problem. It's not far from here.

Her words made me dizzy, excitement and joy rose to my throat like a lump.

I couldn't believe my luck, and she was clearly starting preparations for something. Approaching me, she said that there was an important procedure that had to be followed. With the thumb and ring finger she pressed down on the knuckle of my right ring finger, making the finger extend. The touch felt incredibly real, which raised my excitement even further. By the hand, she led me to a bush in the clearing and said the word: Here. Then she performed a kind of somersault on the spot and vanished, but because she was still holding my hand, I was dragged along.

I found myself in complete darkness. There was a frightening void all around. No sound, no vision, only darkness. The entire time, as I floated there, I had the strangest feeling that this was no longer a dream, yet I could not wake up, either. I was somewhere, but I couldn't say where. This went on for a long time. Anxious that I might miss something, I simply floated there and listened to my own breathing. I figured, I would wake up at some point.

And then I vomited. I lay on my back and vomited in an arc. It was a horrid feeling. I got up, and began to wipe it off my bedsheet, which is when I recognized the vomit as the remains of an omelet I'd had for dinner. As I began to remove the covers from my pillows it dawned on me: This is not the bed I'd gone to sleep in, but the bed in my Kiev apartment from the dream. And mom is there, gently stroking my back, trying to calm me down.