Realidream

Somehow the brain makes no distinction between dreamt and lived experience. I can say that my own memory frequently can't tell apart dream from so called "reality". It's like I exist on two existential plains, at least. I recall a physicist very well who explained to me on a parking lot once, how there are various dimensions, that I found myself between two right then. I was dreaming. Yet there was something so real about him, especially about the insight he shared.

Some psychoanalysts may attribute the various characters and places to protagonize a dream to the self. Quite simply, they may claim that fears, insecurities, complexes, desires and the like manifest themselves in the symbolic intricacies of reveries. As of late, I find the egocentrism of such notions quite tiresome. As if extra self phenomena could have no place within. As if the self was a place of isolation, exclusion and estrangement towards the world that surrounds it, the universe upon which it truly depends, the cosmos that nurtures it, that gives it life.

On another occasion an ayurvedic physician stressed for me to remember that "everything is an illusion." I was awake, though I recall as if it were a dream. In memory there isn't a difference between him as he sat in his office across the desk from me and the physicist who spake to me between a parked car and the hole in the ground we'd just come out of. Never got around to ask the physician: if everything is an illusion, then what is real?