Vanishing suddenly

My attachment and affection for familiar DCs came back to bite me in this one. They are so lifelike that in the moment they feel every bit as real as the actual person. I love my DCs but I may need to learn to get better about leaving them behind in certain situations. And I finally had the phase through a solid wall that I have been looking for! That is progress! Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid Lucid #67: All That You Cannot Leave Behind I am sitting on a carpeted floor talking to my friend BS about strength training, in particular his recent deadlifting injury. At some point, he offers me responsibility or a promotion of some kind, saying that I will be level "17+". It occurs to me that I almost always communicate with him online rather than in person and I become lucid. I see that I am sitting on the floor of my master bedroom and BS has vanished. I know that I am dreaming but the scene's almost distressingly vivid, sort of like a very realistic FA. Our laundry basket is in the middle of the floor but otherwise the room is impeccably organized. Yeah, definitely a dream. It looks like it is early morning and Wife is not in the bed. I want out of the house to work on some tasks so I decide to phase right outside Alyzarin-style. I walk up to a wall that leads outside, imagining that it is not really there. But when I try to walk through it, it stops me. This time I imagine the house having that entire section of wall missing, but my phase attempt is still a failure. I take a few steps back and make one final run-up, focusing my mind on the fact that none of this exists... and pop right through the wall to the outside! My left shoulder slightly clips the window on the way through and a few stray fragments of glass fall with me to the driveway below. It may not have been the prettiest thing, but I am happy to have finally phased through a solid wall again! I would been looking at pictures of <PERSON> during my WBTB and it is fresh in my mind. I <PERSON>-jump hundreds of feet into the air, willing myself to land at <PERSON>. Instead I come crashing back to Earth on a broad downtown plaza next to a long row of elegant, sculptured water fountains. The plaza is busy this morning and working men and women walk purposefully past, seemingly oblivious to my landing. My 3-year-old son E is standing here watching the fountains. A few kids are playing in the fountains and I get the sense that he wants to join them. "Hey buddy!" I say. "I am dreaming all of this." He pops his thumb into his mouth. I think that he is getting way too old to still be doing that. "That is a lucid dream!" he declares, and smiles slyly. I bend down and give him a hug. "That is right. We will talk about this tomorrow. For now I am going to take you with me." (I have not thought through how dangerous it probably is to jump off of <PERSON> with a toddler.) I hoist him up to my shoulders the same way that I do every evening during part of our after-dinner walks. But somehow the lift feels awkward, strange, and too heavy. He slips out of my arms and crashes down to the plaza, landing hard on his forehead. He wails in pain and I hurriedly bend down to scoop him up. I am terribly upset, bordering on losing lucidity. I check his face and I am relieved to see that he is unmarked. I hug him tight to me as he squalls in my ear. I am too emotional to hold the dream together and I wake up.