…and that is what I think they mostly are, dangers arise
because the contents of dreams have a distinctly objective feel. By this I mean
that as we dream we never doubt the
reality of the projection we experience, even when the dream performs amazing
jumps. The dream reporter will then say: “The next thing you know, I was
looking at a river…” but such abrupt transitions are accepted. And when we
become aware of the dream’s strangeness—or real thought is required for some
aspect of it—we wake up.
The danger lies in misunderstanding certain dreams as
messages—not from our own thoughts but from some mysterious beyond. Most dreams
are just a streaming of associative thought rendered as dynamic images. To be
sure the thoughts of some, asleep as well as when awake, are circling around
arcane subjects that, rendered in dream imagery, produce fantastic visions. The
skill of the sleeping mind in producing visual renditions of abstraction is
quite admirable as well as occasionally clumsy and amusing—once understood.
Alongside dangers are boons. Sometimes we solve problems in our dreams. A
famous example of such a boon was Friedrich Kekulé’s vision of a serpent biting
its own tail, which came to him in a revery and helped him understand the
structure of benzene, a subject that had long plagued him.
The absence of genuine consciousness in dreams—meaning
detached self-awareness—is the most interesting aspect of ordinary dreaming. We
appear to experience dreams as if we were embodied presences in them, but
altogether absent is even a hint of how we would react if we were really
present. If now as I am sitting in my backyard writing in the sun I would be
suddenly at the airport waiting at a gate, I would certainly immediately feel
that something was drastically wrong. But if this thought recurred in a dream,
I would be at the airport; and, at
that airport, all kinds of signs, elaborately realistic, would signal some kind
of trouble.
These thoughts arise because, recently, I was revisiting
Carl Jung’s conceptualization of the Unconscious, a realm peopled by
archetypes. That theory arises from dream analysis. And it occurred to me then
that unconsciousness is the chief marker of the dreamer; the dream itself is usually accessible enough. The really
weird dreams are those in which we dream the future—and, sure enough, a short
while later the dream event actually happens. But if a person dreams that God
has told him to do this or that, a little cold water splashed on the face will
not be out of place.
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