This back-dated post is drawn from a record of a dream I emailed to a friend as she and I toiled away at our dead-end jobs in 1999. I was working at the UF Foundation and managed to slip away several times a day for “power naps” in my 1990 Ford Thunderbird, setting my cell phone alarm to wake me up after 10 minutes.
I found myself in a house with no specific floor plan, that is, it may have been inconsistent as I traveled from room to room and back. The walls were white, the house dark, and the lighting was mostly red and a little blue. Lamps were placed to intentionally flood the walls with color. People were there…it was almost a party atmosphere. Not your typical Gainesville party, but a more intelligent, more conscious, artful and tasteful people. Then I “knew” that this was Tali’s place and I’m sure I even saw her… Oddly enough, I suddenly had the need to find a restroom. I was having a difficult time…running around this inconsistent floor plan searching. I finally found one but it was only a toilet in a little nook off the hallway…no door, no sink. The walls were lit mostly blue but a little green, too. I was unwilling to use this restroom because of the lack of sink and door, and continued to search for another. Oddly, as I walked away from this one, I must have hit a knob or button on the wall because the toilet flushed. I felt slightly embarrased that someone in the distance might hear it and think I’d used this very immodest commode.
Moments later I was consumed by an overwhelming sensation of dizziness (drunkness? I’m not sure). I couldn’t walk straight. I grabbed the walls for comfort. I gazed at strangers who seemed indifferent to my obviously deranged state. “Just another trashed kid” I’m sure they thought. I felt like I was going to pass out, and I dropped to the floor, hoping someone would notice my peril. My world faded to black.
My eyes opened to the real world for but a second, and as they did, I became very scared. My eyes were not opened wide, but I was obviously not dreaming anymore. I wanted to look at my watch. Where is my watch? Oh, on my arm. Where is my arm. I can’t feel my arm. I COULD NOT MOVE. Paralyzed*. I could hear my breathing. So shallow. Such long, drawn out breaths through the mouth, as though my existence were being challenged and I was powerless to stop whatever entity was relieving me of my most valued posession.** I felt weak, hollow, as though I were slipping out-of-body…or like I could have died.
A short moment later I found myself dreaming again. The world surrounding me is very different now. The dominant colors are lime green and purple. Walls were painted lime green, the trim purple. Some pinks and reds around, but all the lighting is white…not too bright. Lots of art on the walls, in a very orderly fashion…not unlike a museum, labeled and on display. Groups of people were here, but not tourists because most of them were younger than me, with a few exceptions (maybe a school field trip to a museum).
That’s when I became aware, dreaming lucidly. Yet, somehow, I was still partially victim to my mind. I had a little fun jumping around…not flying, but leaping and bounding around the larger rooms of this museum. A funny little guy, some little Nintendo creature was mimicking me as my surroundings changed to a video game type of atmosphere. No specific video game, just bright surroundings, bitmapped walls of repeating patterns, etc. Lots of hallways…almost maze-like. I kept seeing Tali in the not-too-far distance, say 30-50 yards, with other people, probably from the party, and I wanted to catch up to her. I tried everything I could. Everytime I would catch up to her, she would turn into someone else. At one point I looked into a mirror to see her standing next to me, wearing a red shirt and khaki pants. I turned only to find a tall “skater” type of guy wearing the same. I tried altering my surroundings with only a little success and aso tried to change Tali’s location to match mine, but my control over my mind was not powerful enough.
My eyes opened to the real world again, barely. At this point I see both images…My dream still running in the top half of my line of sight, my steering wheel and windshield in the bottom. I fought against the real world…forcing my eyes shut, although it was not by muscle power that I closed them. I don’t think I even had the muscle power available to me.
My dream continued, my pursuit fruitless, although now the walls are more “real” and more dismal. Concrete block, painted a thousand times like at your high school, but darker colors and dirtier. If there is drywall, it’s cracked. An atmosphere like the inside of The Covered Dish, but still hallways and mazes.
I woke up a minute before my alarm feeling very refreshed, yet stunned.
From where I stand now, I think of the 1999 version of myself as an ego-bound and sleepwalking consciousness. But the last part of the email states: “This physical world is microsopic and almost meaningless by comparison to the universe within our minds. What do you think?” This proves nothing, but…Ha!
* I have since learned about the phenomenon called “sleep paralysis”.
** This statement shows that I once thought of myself as a body with a soul, rather than a consciousness with a form.