The Dreamer Is Still Asleep
A friend of mine wrote to me today about a dream he had last night. This morning, I thought about my relationship to dreaming, how it has shaped my life in such a major way.
I wonder about the subspaces we access when we sleep. I think you can feel yourself passing through layers into deeper symbolism, hence the seemingly disconnected feelings you’re left with when you wake up. Water in dreams is thought to represent emotion, bottled instincts, cerebral control waning to reveal the truer pulp of the self.
It’s especially unsettling when there are feelings that don’t seem to match the events in the dream, but I believe that the symbols or the language of dreams is tailored to the dreamer. You may not see yourself hurt someone in a dream but you feel that you have because you were in that deeper layer where violence is represented by something less explicit, like leaving.
I’ve often struggled to shake off the residue of a dream for the same reasons. I can remember certain things, but the feelings are so strong and don’t seem to relate to what I saw. I think those are times when I went much deeper, into an area that my brain simply cannot express visually.
There was a rough period of 3-5 years when I had recurring dreams of floods where all the buildings had collapsed into/on/around each other and I was trying to move through them without falling into the raging water. Now, I have similar dreams, but the water has been replaced by overgrowth of trees, grass, branches that block and obscure passage through the stitched together structures.
I have had another recurring dream since I was about ten or so. I am called out of my home in the evening because something is happening in the night sky. I see people all around, outside their homes and workplaces, looking up at planets and other objects in space slamming into each other in huge explosions of light and sparks.
The explosions are so close, I can see the topography of the planets collapsing. I can see individual flames, immolating trees, rocks crumbling. In some versions of the dream, I see satellites and rockets and space junk smashing together.
No one is ever panicking in the dreams, just watching, and I am filled with feelings of gratitude, elation and joy that I am witnessing such an event. I stand and look up. It’s as if my eyes are drinking the destruction, the colors, the massiveness.
Fear is buried far beneath the awe.