Issue 84, August 2005
I dream, therefore I am
©Jane Teresa Anderson, August 2005
How real are your dreams? Looking back on a dream where you were flying, for example, you may answer, “Nothing like real life at all!” But, consider the question again. How real are your dreams? How real did the flying feel? Did you feel the elation, or the fear? Did you believe totally in the dream? Did you have any idea, while in the middle of your dream, that you had a parallel real life, one where you were asleep in bed at the same time as you were flying?
How often have you woken from a dream still believing, momentarily, that you had committed that crime, forgotten to feed a baby, had sex with an ex-lover or lost a tooth? How relieved did you feel to discover it was a dream?
If your dream felt so real while you were in it, even though it may seem absurd looking back, how sure can you be that this waking life you are experiencing right now is not a dream? “Because it’s not absurd. It’s real,” you might reply. “Ah, so?” I might answer.
Around 350 BC, the Chinese sage Chuang-Tzu famously pondered, “I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around the sky, then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamed of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?”
How easily we believe the reality of our dreams, until we awaken. How easily we believe the reality of our waking life until we awaken.
A few weeks ago I was listening to a light-hearted conversation on the radio as I was driving around the city. The subject was existentialism. The object was humour. “Oh,” quipped the presenter, looking for the best way to communicate the basics of existentialist philosophy, “So if nothing exists beyond myself, and things are only as I imagine them to be, then I can forget about washing the dishes at night because they’re not really there.” I laughed, switched off the radio, and parked the car.
That night, in my dream, I was running fluidly and happily through a meadow, enjoying the feeling of cool air on my skin, the scent of the flowers, the freedom of movement, the rhythm of running, when I noticed a slight haze beside me. As I looked closer I saw that the haze was a dancing cloud of flying insects. There were many varieties, shapes, sizes, colours and speeds of flight. It occurred to me that they were probably slowing my run, crowding my space, distracting my joy. I thought, “But if nothing exists beyond myself, and things are only as I imagine them to be, then I can forget about these insects slowing me down because they’re not really there!” At that, the haze of insects cleared and my run quickened to a higher level of cruise.
Dreams process our waking life experiences, especially the last 24-48 hours, comparing them to our past experiences, measuring them alongside our accumulated beliefs about life, and generating the latest update on our view of the world. (Dream language is not literal, but if you squint sideways at any dream, you’ll see how it relates to your life.) My latest update, it seemed, reminded me that things are only as real as I imagine them to be. When you focus on life’s little irritations (insects) they become distracting. When you realise things are only irritating if you choose to see them that way, they disappear. Attitude is a choice.
Existentialism became popular during and after World War II, when people were struggling to find meaning in the chaos of war. But it was Descartes, who, in the 17th century, concluded that, “I think, therefore I am”. In other words, things are only as you think them to be – including yourself. The dirty dishes and the insects – like world wars - probably do exist, but your experience of life is shaped by how you view them. If you see the insects as irritating, they will irritate you. If you do not see them as irritating, they will not irritate you – what was once a problem, is no longer so.
Attitude is a choice. The dirty dishes still (seem to) exist, but a slight shift in your attitude towards them can take the sting out of clearing up after the party. War still exists, but a slight shift in your attitude towards it can be healing. How might your dreams tonight process this suggestion?
When you understand how you think about the world, you understand your experience of life. When you change how you think about the world, you change your experience of life.
The beauty of learning how to understand your dreams is that they reveal how your thinking, beliefs and attitudes about the world have developed since your birth. You become more understanding of other people and how their attitudes and beliefs have developed. You begin to understand that it is not “I think, therefore I am,” but “I dream, therefore I am”.
How real is your waking life? As real as the dreams that nightly update your attitude towards it. Are you ready to wake up to your dreams?
Food for thought. Food for dreaming. (I’ll do the dishes.)
Jane Teresa Anderson
|
|
