Beautiful Garden

Following the instructions in Robert Waggoner’s book, Lucid Dreaming: Gateway to the Inner Self, I planned to say my intention directly to the dream for several days. 

I was on a street when I realized in a dream that I was dreaming. Unfortunately, I couldn't quickly formulate what I originally wanted to do. So, I looked upwards and called out, "I want to see a beautiful garden!" Immediately the space around me began to move forward, so I backed away. I discovered that I was actually backing up in a car, with a driver sitting next to me, a fat old Mexican man. He was dressed in livery with gold strips painted with a brush.

I looked in the back seat of the car, no one was there. But the Mexican began to talk while driving hands-free. "She saw you, madam, you are revealed." I told the Mexican I didn't see anyone. He replied, "That's okay, we just know that you recognize eight kinds." (I did not understand what he meant by “kinds.”)

The car stopped in a square in an unknown city. As I got out of the car, I saw that my favorite cat was with me. I thought the cat was my guide. The Mexican escorted me to a park, where we entered through a gate. There were a lot of people there. The park was beautiful, and a river flowed through it. 

My cat had disappeared somewhere, and even though I knew I was in a dream, I wanted her back. So, I looked upwards a second time and called out, "I want my guide back, I'm worried about him!" After a while, someone from the crowd told me, “I have a message for you. Everything is fine, don't worry."

Then I walked for a while, but I was still nervous about my cat. Intuitively called out, "Thank you very much for everything!" 

I noticed that all the people from the park began to leave, so I joined them as well. We left through the gate. There was a young man standing at the gate, he was familiar to me, but I don't know from where. People passed him. As I walked past him, he looked at me and took my hand for a few seconds in a very special way. He caught the last joint of the fingers of my hand with the last joint of his fingers. As if the ends of the fingers stuck together. I felt like it was kind of a greeting. Then I woke up, but I could still feel the pressure in my fingertips.