Monday, June 3, 2013

Me, Myself, and Freud.

         In my dreams I am near the sea, usually in some sort of house which changes, but has many windows and is high above the ground. The view is utterly picturesque until, in the distance, I see monstrous waves approaching the land. I am oddly unafraid. Detached, a voyeur only, I watch the water rush over everything as it rises to thrash against the pane I am looking through. I calmly turn and walk away with the sound of breaking windows, and an entire ocean, crashing in around me.
         I have had this dream at least twenty times over the past several years. It isn't unusual for me to have identical dreams or, even more common, I will have different dreams in exactly the same setting. For instance, the house of windows may remain the same, but sometimes the ocean is an unnatural abyss. Not black, but a fuzzy and blinding brightness that, as I watch, gradually consumes all things.
        If they are meant to be some kind of metaphoric messaging system, I've no foggy idea what these visions are trying to convey. It is their repetition, much more so than their content, which seems significant to me. Of course I never remember that I'd already seen those things many times before. Inside these dreams, as the dreamer, everything is always new. How can my own mind forget itself, inside itself ? Wow!
        I am fascinated by the notion that there seems to be some part of my consciousness completely separate from this "me" I think I know so well. I don't believe Freud quite covered every possibility when he broke our psyche down into three facets; the ego, super ego, and the id. We do love labels, so we employ "experts" to tell us what is true. I can forgive the need for humanity to seek out a demystified understanding of what makes everything tick, but curiosity will still win out every time over knowing, for me, since FACT has been proven to either be flexible or deliberately misleading.
        I wish there was some way that I could encourage others to question instead of immediately Googling everything. I feel it is the great tragedy of becoming an adult; the slow death of wonder. Never mind that our understanding of any subject is extremely superficial. Thank you public education and standardized testing! But what a gift!
        There is an abundance of magic in what we don't know. So much about the brain and body cannot be explained. The scalpel has never found that thing in us which loves and intuits or allows for vivid dreaming. The most powerful microscope discovers that solid matter is actually comprised of a vast emptiness between tiny, vibrating specks. Indeed, most miracles entirely befuddle the fact finders and label makers. All knowledge is, at best, a temporary interpretation awaiting an updated opinion.
       Remember that the next time you shrug off a coincidence or experience something you truly cannot define. And even if you never think about it, know that there is an entire aspect of yourself you will never meet, who, if you're lucky, will randomly reveal the most unusual imagery when you close your eyes in this reality, and open them again in theirs. Consider the fact that you are not only an improbability of sophisticated, bioelectrical hardware with nerves, organs, bones and blood; but a nebulous and unquantifiable singularity in an abjectly unknowable universe.        

No comments:

Post a Comment