I become lucid inside what appears to be my family house.

At the time it feels like the place I'm sleeping. With a little effort, I hoist my dream body out of bed. I'm relieved that I don't just wake up, and head outside.

I look out to the horizon and see the sun shining. I want to do the Embracing the Tree meditation (it's a standing meditation, a way of gathering energy within the dream), but it doesn't work out quite as expected.

The unforeseen surprise is that my wish to do the meditation, seems to have brought about a connection with a larger guiding force. I feel myself lifting, as though levitated by some unknown but familiar force. I feel myself being shuttled down the hill, on which my parent's house is based, in a way somewhat similar to a hovercraft. I'm somewhat trusting but also a little nervous - I declare my intention "to be guided by the Earth" (in the hope that this declaration acts somewhat like a safety blanket)

Upon reaching the bottom of the hill, I notice a large trailer-like vehicle stationed there. Now 'walking' of my own accord, I enter the vehicle. It begins to transform as it moves. The trailer shifts becoming more like a wide canoe, with me seat at the front. Others join me - people that seem to be either Native American or Spanish-speakers. Their's an Indigenous element to their presence - a tribal kind of feel to their dress.

Anyway, the odd thing about this boat is the way it moves. It seems that in order to move, I have to bang my hands against either side. As I do so, the whole boat vibrates - it reminds me of these musical tubes some of the kids at my school were playing with the week before. I start enjoying it, building up a rhythm, and now we start moving, ascending the hill once again.

We stop, reaching a home. The men, who seem like "brothers" get out too. I walk into another room, joining them. We're speaking Spanish now - a task I find somewhat difficult given that I'm lucid dreaming.

"Estoy emocianado", I say (I'm excited)

They look at me, interested by my response, but also seemingly wondering what I think will happen next. I'm not sure myself, but it seems there's some kind of purpose behind our meeting.

"De cual pais são vocês?", I continue. I seem to think they're Mexican and am curious as to whether this is true, literally asking which country they're from (oddly, in an inaccurate blend of Spanish and Portuguese).

One of the men responds "De que cosa", as though unsure what I'm actually asking.

I wake from my dream.