A title this would be, had I the originality.

I rarely get dreams of flying, so it's nice when I do. I take them as signs of hopefulness in myself. And a sign of having control over my destiny.

I had one today. I was myself but varied in age from my own, to being a child... there was a social event, perhaps a wedding, perhaps even my wedding. I didn't know the people well, but they were good and friendly.

I discovered that I could sit on the floor with my legs outstretched, but only my heels touching the floor. This did not seem too remarkable, but the fun bit was that I could cscoot along with just my heels on the floor, without expending effort. Wheee! It was like being on a go-cart. People were impressed, but only like you would be by a minor skill like juggling, rather than a skill that breaks the laws of physics.

Then I tried crossing one leg onto the other, and it still worked. I went zooming along on the road outside, but there were too many cars.

Then I discovered I could lift both feet up, and glide!

Then there was a brief non-flying thing where we were taken to another building, in an interesting gizmo where people got into groups of chairs behind eachother in a row, all facing forwards like those small train carriages you see at some fairgrounds. These were then towed side-by-side, up to six abreast, so you got a very high density of people, in a scalable sized vehicle.

Anyway, when we got there, I was the first out, flying around, gliding higher and higher. Always gliding: I rarely have the ability to provide my own propulsion in these dreams.

It was night. I got braver, leapt off a building, and went out into the air... but I got caught by the wind, and although I could get as high as I wanted, I could not make headway towards the place I'd started even if I plummetted into it almost straight down to get the most speed.

The place, a broad, dark and imposing four-storey mansion when we had approached it, seemed so small now. It was revealed to be just a small feature of the huge metal bridge that it was on. I had to strain to make it out, and eventually I only knew where it was from the position on the bridge. To scale, then, the bridge must have been many thousands of feet high, and miles long. I think it was the Golden Gate bridge, grown vast in my imagination, with buildings upon it like the old London Bridge, except the buildings were so small in comparison that even the tallest barely made a change in the shape of the bridge.

Diagnosis: this is a dream about my move to the US. I do not anticipate the people I will meet at my wedding to be unpleasant; I am glad to be on the move again; I am optimistic and uplifted; but it is a big, scary move, and if I'm not careful I might end up become powerless and dragged in directions I would not want to go.