This is the most vivid dream I’ve ever had, and it’s one of the few that I can say I’m truly heartbroken isn’t true. In the dream, I tried to wake up so many times, and I thought I actually did and it was all real. As it began, I was taking Eric, Sean, and Debbi to Vashon Island to show them around. I was driving toward the north end ferry, and I think I missed my turn or something. We ended up going a little too far north, and the roads were a little steep. The area would be like if the top tip of Seattle was met with ocean. We eventually met the ocean, and I couldn’t slow down the van we were driving fast enough, so we all had to get out of it and it tumbled into the ocean. I was attached to it via a rope, but Sean managed to grab the rope and pull it out. It was dead and had to be towed away, but the area was rural enough that the only road we saw was one that came directly out of the ocean and ran from north to south. We were essentially in the middle of nowhere with a sort of cliff in front of us. We ventured around, and I saw cars driving out of the ocean and down the road south. These were both like and unlike any cars I have ever seen. They were the shape size and speed of a luxury vehicle, but they were semi-transparent and glowed with a cobalt hue. This was the first sign that this place we had found accidentally was different than any other. We wandered around some more and eventually ran in to a sort of farmers market. Is was very rural, and the stands were all decorated with wood and leaves, as if all made by only the most raw materials themselves. It was sort of structured like a maze of square huts, all close enough together than you could touch two at once when walking on the foot-worn dirt path that wound between them. There were people in these stands, and people walking around, but no cars in sight and no houses for them to live in. These people were mostly normal, but you could tell that something put them apart from every other person. Flower crowns graced their heads, they did not wear shoes, and each person walked around with an air of nearly-imperceptible magic about them. There were small flying creatures hanging around some of the huts, like I had never seen before. Some had small wings and small horns but proportionally large bodies, like soccer ball sized bees except mammals. A vertically challenged blonde-haired man of the woods found us and we explained what happened. He was glad to help, and ended up accommodating us for the night. He led us through some path more than just animal tracks through the wood and as he led, he explained the things we could not. He told us that after some war or other, this small society had managed to break a deal with the government to remain a secret. They lived on their own, were fully self sustaining, and had essentially taken over old abandoned structures as living-quarters, recreational centers, and houses of spiritual learning and meditation. The place he lead us to was somehow underground but not underground. The “ceiling” glowed with a faint blue light, as if the natural properties of dusk had reached a huge cave. As we walked, we saw an old crashed passenger jet plane that was to be our hotel room for the night. The vines had overtaken it, but it inside it was a hybrid natural/artificial structure clean enough for a comfortable night. A large corporate office building bathroom had been overtaken and used as sort of a common area, and there were large theatres and small houses all tied together by another winding path. There were more people here, too. Everyone felt a little bit magical. I met a boy and a girl about my age: the girl had a black denim jacket and patched up pants, and her ears pointed ever so slightly. The boy was wearing shorts of leaves and an old graphic tee, and you could tell he was a builder or some other kind of physical worker (we got to joking around, and I touched his chest because I wanted to feel those muscles.) I went on a walk through this amazing place with the girl, and she further explained that most of the people in this small conglomeration didn’t have contact with the outside world. She had a phone though (I imagine for the modern convenience of having a camera, a clock, a flashlight, and something to take notes on in the pocket) but she showed me that it had no wireless capabilities of any kind. A lot of the people we ran into did not like the idea of outsiders being in their home, but eventually they came around to the idea I think. The girl showed me to her mom’s house to introduce me to her and her family. The house itself looked like a regular old house you’d find in the streets of Tacoma, though it was warm and beaten like no other I had ever seen. In this case though, the wear only made it more beautiful. The house had already started the long process of becoming part of the earth again, and it had only benefitted from this: the large roots from a neighboring tree had formed steps up to the front door, and another tree near the side of the house acted as a sort of patio/overhang to keep the weather at bay. I should mention that earlier in this adventure, I could not find a trashcan, and had shoved something in my pocket. I asked the mother if she knew of a trashcan around, and (while eating something) she shoved a pea-pod up her nose and said “you won’t find a trashcan around here young one.” How fucking punk rock is that right? The rest of the girl’s family were bustling around busily, each one clearly had a job to do. At some point in the tour, a gong rung and this meant it was time for mass public meditation. The girl and I headed back to this area that looked like a summer-camp theatre, with a covered-but-open stage that was also on it’s way to becoming part of the earth. I received funny looks from a few people for trying to attend. I spun in a circle while falling to the ground cross legged with my hands to my sides and gave them a look that said “I so long to be a part of this, please please let me participate.” Their seemingly rough exteriors melted and they allowed me passage to the area this event was taking place. Everyone was gathered around disorganized enough that it was not clear where I was supposed to sit, or if there were elders leading this exercise. I found an open plot of grass on a slight incline, and I was the last one down to the ground. As I readied myself, everyone looked at me sort of confused. I sat down cross legged again, but someone I began sliding downhill. A few giggles sprinkled this small crowd, and eventually I stopped moving so we began. There were no prompts, no guide, and no expectation here. I began a meditation I used to do a few months ago. I started by focusing on my fingertip, it’s sense of hot and cold, everything it was touching, and focused solely on the existence of this fingertip. My finger began to tingle, and slowly I guided this feeling to my entire body. This is presence, a mindfulness meditation and one of the only few I actually know well enough to try to practice. At some point this session ended, and I was told to meet back up with my stranded party at the old airplane for a night’s rest. (also at some point before bedtime but after meditation, A large group gathered in a modern but dilapidated structure that ended up being a boat. I didn’t know this until the whole thing started moving because we were somehow underground but on the water.) We all met back up there, and everyone went to bed. My head was full of fantasies and I could not sleep, so after an hour or so I got up and left the plane. I thought everyone was asleep, but almost immediately after exiting I was graced with the presence of the the girl once more. She showed me the outskirts of the reservation, where a giant whirlpool of water sat menacingly for some reason or another (though I know it had a practical purpose, I never found out what it was for.) I fell in and spun around, unable to grab anything and barely able to keep my head out of the water. This dream was so realistic that I thought for sure I was a goner. Earlier in the airplane, I slapped myself a bunch and “woke up” only to find I was still in this place: it was real. The girl somehow shut the whirlpool down and fished me out. What happened after this I cannot remember, but suddenly it was the next day. The van had been fixed and everyone but me hopped on: I was going to stay. In the daylight, I wandered around back to the farmer’s market area from earlier, but this time it was different. It didn’t lose it’s charm or magic, but it was clear that everyone and everything was disguised to look more “normal.” This time there were people here I did not see before, I imagine to barter goods to the magical people without anyone knowing they were different. I did, however, receive playful side glances from many of the people I met the night before, saying “you’re in on it! Everything you saw last night was real, but we can’t let these people know. SHHHHH.” While everyone pretended they weren’t special for the crowd, I ventured toward that cliff again, and found a path that led underground. This led me to a dimly lit cave: the biggest one I had ever seen. In this cave, stood an entire modern city in shambles: skyscrapers being eaten by mother earth as far as the eye could see. I could not see the ground, and these buildings were very close together with varying heights, but it was clear that the entrance was on top of one of the buildings, and the floor lied far far below. I monkeyed around for a big, jumping and climbing between buildings, when the ground started to shake: the building I was on at the moment was collapsing, and I ended up falling on to one next to it about thirty feet. My right leg was snapped in half at the shin, and there were bone fragments coming out of it. I screamed in pain and called for help. I sat there for a while, and eventually the short blonde haired man from earlier appeared in front me of. I begged him to call an ambulance, and he took a minute to figure out what I meant. I imagine he wanted to take me to a natural healer, but in this moment I needed serious modern medical attention. Eventually I found myself above ground surrounded by medical men, and they threw me on a lift. I had to hold my leg steady because it was flopping everywhere, and the pain was unimaginable. The story continues from here, but that was the last I saw of the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.