Flying/Moon

Last night was the SUPERmoon for 2013. It was amazing.

I know this because at about midnight, Lil decided she had to go to the bathroom. Outside. In the grass. Jason was trying to talk her out of this when I finally came out of the dream I'd been dreaming and realized what was going on.

Considering the circumstances, it seemed totally appropriate that my woodsprite child, buck nekked already, would want to go outside and take a piss under the fullest moon of the year. So I held her hand and out we went.  The moon really was amazing.

And then when we came back inside she wanted, as she often does these days, for me to lie down with her in her room till she fell asleep. I am fairly often happy to do so, as I get to snuggle her and smell her hair, and all of those gooey mama cliches that are so remarkably true. And while I was lying there listening to her suck her fingers I remembered my dream.

I fly a lot in my dreams, in a very Douglas Adams sort of "falling up" kind of way.  Usually it is not that exciting: a run and a leap and then a sort of gliding up high for a while. Last night felt very vivid, like a memory, and I was somewhere sandy, sort of like eastern California-evergreeny-meadowy-desert landscape and I had been swimming and flying and sort of doing my thing. And I wanted to fly back to where I was supposed to be, and there was a family coming up behind /passing me on the path, so I politely said "excuse me" and started doing the running-leaping thing that proceeds my style of dream-flying. And then I took off and was flying through the trees and the mama of the family started freaking out and calling to Jesus in Spanish, which also sort of freaked me out, because I thought what I was doing was perfectly normal, and so I grabbed onto some trees to get me higher up and leapt off and grabbed some other trees, which eventually led to a domestic building of apartments or dorms or something, and then I put my foot, which was wearing a dark espadrille, onto the building's railings and knocked on the window so some stranger could let me in and I could get out of the view of this family that was freaking out at me.  And that's when my daughter woke me up.

Now, what I think about this is:

1. Isn't it cool how things that at one point feel totally impossible and improbable (like flying) can, with frequency of use, feel totally quotidian?
2.  I felt very wordless in the dream, and I liked it.  I think I want to practice that quietude more.
3. What is the significance of the espadrille?

I wonder if we are always having dreams like this, but that we don't know how to hold onto them very well, so we don't remember most of them.   I am looking for help on this, so if you have any, send it my way. Also, I highly recommend the experience of peeing outside on a summer night, with or without the toddler.