The Evening Series: Saturday, July 29, 2017

The Evening Series: Saturday, July 29, 2017

The evening is unnerving.  There is the sense of dread just right before I fall asleep.  It feels like the dream world is knocking on my waking consciousness and waiting to enter.  The entrance is fearful because I don’t feel that there is an exit.  Once I enter the opening of this world, it will close on me, and I will be held a prisoner in this world of not of my making.  I'm aware that there is a bridge between the two worlds, but I also feel like I'm living two lives in one.   The images that come to me at nighttime are ones of extreme textural sensitivity.   I recall in a dream that someone gave me a book, and the volume had regular pages, but also a series of round circular holes that are cut out.  One can read the book, but you also read the following page, due to the hole, which is in the center of the page.  The placement of the text was a way of looking into the future, or logically on the next page. 

Food is never part of my dreams.   I don’t recall ever having a meal or eating food in my dream world.  I wonder about this because the food is so sensual, and one would think that once in the dream world, the pleasures or fears of tasting a meal would for sure be part of the landscape.   Objects like books come in and out of the picture, and again, with vivid detail.  I often wake up from a dream and find myself that the book I have dreamed about doesn’t exist.  One of the reasons why I like to write is to obtain the book that comes with my dream. 

The other odd thing concerning my dreams is that a lot of times it’s a third person perspective.   Sometimes I’m one of the characters in the dream narrative, but it’s not me telling the story.  It’s like watching a film in a movie theater, where I’m just a passive viewer.   In most cases it’s a thriller, where I’m (as a character) is chased or I’m chasing someone. The incident or situation can be in a danger zone, but as a viewer, I never feel panic or being upset by what is unfolding in front of my eyes. 

I dream of people I know, and I don’t know.  The ones I do know seem to be individuals that I don’t think about in my current life.  For instance, last night I had a dream about someone I used to work with, but for the life of me, cannot remember his name.  His presence in the dream is powerful, and what I remember of his personality is very accurate. I never think of him.  He doesn't matter to me now, nor in the past, except it’s someone I had to see due to my occupation at the time, but also the daily schedule of seeing someone you work with in the workplace.  

I have had sexual encounters in my dream.   Very satisfying and not always with a woman I know in my waking life.   The sensuality of the moment is that I’m enjoying myself greatly, and I’m not thinking of anything except the pleasure I’m getting out of the sexual encounter.  When I wake up from such a dream, I never feel depressed or sorry to be back in bed.  Instead, I  look at the ceiling and its shadows due to the lighting of the trees outside my window.  Sexual dreams are the only passage between the two worlds where it's a pleasurable experience. 

On the other hand looking at the digital clock across the way makes me think of time passing.  Or in the future, for instance, what needs to be done for the next day.   I fall asleep, and then I have a series of dreams that are anxiety driven due to schedules being missed or appointments that I have forgotten.  I tend to have embarrassing moments such as being naked in a place or situation, where I clearly shouldn’t be in the nude.  There is a feeling that if I ignore my nakedness, then everyone else in my dream will do the same.  So no one calls me out being in the nude, but I’m entirely conscious that I’m naked and the fear of being discovered in such a state causes anxiety.   What’s interesting to me is that I have no fear of being found naked in the awakened life.  Now, thinking of it, I think it’s more about keeping secrets.  The exposure or having some form of truth coming out that can harm you.  That’s the fear.  I have many secrets. 

- Tosh Berman