I can't remember the whole dream, or even when I had it, because it just now popped into my head as I was recounting my recurring dreams last night, but it has been within the past week. I can say that for sure.
The only thing I remember is standing in a bedroom, one with soft red and yellow lighting, at the foot of the bed, facing away from the bed. And I recall realizing I was dreaming, and deciding to do something outrageous — I'm always thrill-seeking when I shift into lucid mode, and the only outrageous thing I can ever think of doing is flying — so I just sort of lurch into the air, and do an exaggerated and very graceful back flip, esentially, even though it felt like I was flying up and then over and finally landing on the bed. The ceilings in the house must have been very high, because I recall looking way down and seeing the bed before I landed on it.
My dreams make flying seem so fucking simple it's laughable.