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 versus 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 sheer memory exists no 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?