At least in our dreams.
At Slate today, Mason Currey recounts a “lucid dream” (a dream in which you are conscious of dreaming, and act on that consciousness) that he had:
I’m walking up a path into the lobby of an old apartment building, but the door is blocked by a couple in the midst of a heavy make-out session. Oops. I walk to the next building—this one is definitely where I live—but as I’m going for the door, a very tall man grabs my shoulder and spins me around. Behind him is another, even taller man. They’re accosting me for some reason that is obscure now. But in the dream, instead of being threatening, the men seem silly. So silly, in fact, that the situation finally trips my reality-check reflex. I don’t need to stare at my hand: Obviously, I’m dreaming. This is it! I look at the very tall man in front of me and I think: Now’s your chance—take flight! And, sure enough, I begin slowly to float up off the ground, until I’m up to the tall man’s shoulders, and then to his face, and then I’m looking down at him from above. I feel a suffusing sense of giddiness, a kind of euphoria even, as I rise up into the sky, accelerating rapidly, the ground disappearing far below me.
But who can say that the borders between dream and reality are all that fundamentally clear? Maybe you’re dreaming right now.