I'm aware this is not a Saturn V.
This one was a lot of fun, but has no clear meaning. Even if I reach really far, there's nothing it seems to express metaphorically. It was just bizarre pointless fun. Maybe I need more of that in my life? But there I go looking for meaning again.
I was in some sort of beach side villa. It looked really nice on the outside, matte white paint, Greek style. Inside was old fashioned however and looked like 1970s decor. There were stacks of folded up beach chairs and changing rooms for people to get into their swimsuits.
I was hanging out inside watching a rocket being prepared for launch on a floating platform just a few hundred feet out to sea. The ocean was impossibly calm. I don't know why it didn't seem strange that there were no waves. The surface of the ocean was like a mirror, it was so still.
There was a long line of people in bathing suits up a flight of metal stairs leading to the tip of the rocket. Like the stairs up to the top of a water slide at any water park I've ever been to. This part of the dream is sort of blurry and I lost track of time, but next thing I knew I was at the front of the line.
My turn to climb onto the rocket. There was no crew capsule. Instead, I was given a paraglider backpack (it was stuffed into it, not hanging out) and helped into a roller coaster style seat with a fold-down restraint bar. There was a cone shaped wind guard above me, but I was also given goggles.
Then the countdown began. Nobody waiting in line seemed afraid of being fried by the exhaust. At last it reached zero and the Saturn V rocket ignited. It rumbled violently as it climbed up into the sky. There was a handle I could pull at any time to release my restraint and dive back to Earth.
I wondered as the rocket climbed, how high I could go before I'd have trouble breathing. It began to grow very cold as wind rushed past. I waited until I could see the whole island before I pulled the lever. The engine cut off, and the tip was ejected.
Momentum continued to carry it upward as I leaned out of the seat, then jumped. I just kept going up for a few more seconds due to momentum, but then at last began to fall. I worried I'd burn up in the atmosphere but evidently wasn't high enough for that.
Instead the island grew larger and larger as I plummeted towards it. When I was dangerously close, I pulled the chute. Was I too late? Would I smash into the ocean at full speed and die? The paraglider style chute deployed properly and slowed my descent, with only three hundred or so feet remaining.
When I landed on the beach, I was scolded for not deploying the chute at a higher altitude. Scolded may not be the right word, I wasn't in any trouble. Rather they seemed disappointed for me because I didn't get the full enjoyment out of it. But I had a blast anyways.
I said I had plenty of fun and didn't feel there was necessarily a wrong way to do it so long as you survive. After which I helped re-pack the chute, then went inside to shower and make a hot drink while I watched the booster recovery effort. Then they re-assembled the rocket and prepared to launch the next sky diver.
Keep Dreaming!