Dream Guides
Dream guides are characters who show us how the dreaming world works. In every lesson I can remember, there are practical applications in the waking world: what is reality in a dream is psychology in waking life.
Dream guides attempt make obvious truths manifest through parable and allegory. It appears, at times, that they construct entire dreams as the sound stages for their lessons. Other times, they seem to exploit whatever dream is currently running.
Dream guides are kind without being maternal, funny without being caustic, and wise without pretension. They are willing to let people cling to their bad habits — they never intervene — nor do they give up.
Dream guides are not subject to my magic powers. For example, I cannot levitate them, and this is, for me, the final test as to whether a dream character is a dream guide.
It is something of a hobby of mine to interview people about their dreams. I believe many people have dream guide dreams. The characters they describe behave like mine. These dreamers have the habit of shrugging off such dreams, but this is largely due to them not having the concept of dream guides. This blog post is intended to alert its readers of this phenomenon.
Below are some selected dream guide dreams of mine, which I hope show some of the forms such dreams may take.
Parachute tent dream
One of the earliest dream guide dreams I can remember found me inside a tent that was something like a parachute that had been inflated on the ground. As I came to awareness, I was simply standing in this bright and colourful environment, wondering how I’d got there. I felt an hand on my shoulder. I turned, but no one was there. Then I felt a hand on my other arm. Again, no one was there, but I could still feel the hand. I could not see it, but I could feel it. I was very agitated. I pulled it off.
Then came another hand. I pulled it away. Then another. And another. I pulled them off frantically. When hands began to land on my face, I began to panic; I could not breath.
The hands came faster and faster, out pacing my ability to remove them. At some point, I realised that the hands were familiar. They felt like my hands. I realised I was dreaming.
I knew that I could not suffocate because there is no air in a dream. I had nothing to do. And yet, I could not ignore the panic. I struggled desperately with the hands until I convinced myself to try again. My calm lasted only a few seconds, ceding once again to the panic. I tried several more times.
Finally, I was able to stand still for about ten seconds. This seems like a very short time, but when one is panicking, it is an eternity. I opened my eyes.
I was standing at the foot of a sweeping marble staircase of a mansion. Before me stood the front door. Accompanying me were a young man and a twelve-year old girl. To my left were two middle aged men, one back and the other native American. They were wearing the casual clothing of day-labourers. They were talking about how well the girl had done; she had a natural talent.
They noticed that I could see them and they smiled. It made me wonder how long I had been standing there, and indeed, whether I had actually been anywhere else. One of the men said, “We thought that you had become so in love with yourself that you were never going to finish!” They laughed, but we students did not.
Bunker Study
I dreamt my dream companion and I were to do a psychological study about living in a bunker. All participants in a given bunker were stooges, except one true subject. There were 4 sleeping places in ours. In it was a woman who went to bed early and a Italian man from Saratoga. I immediately looked up Saratoga on my (dream) laptop. He showed me on the laptop where his kids’ daycare was — in some desertified region. In reality, there is no Saratoga in Italy. ‘Saratoga’ is an Iroquois word. A little waking-world research shows that it was a 19th century resort town in upstate New York.
The man next recounted his history as an artist. At one point, his mouth came uncomfortably close to my ear; it gave the impression of untoward sexual interest . According to his tale, he ended up making sculptures using pee to dissolve away some soft material. There was never an explanation as to what the material was. He showed us photos of a museum installation of his work, and then began making a new piece, about fist-sized, right there. Urine splashed everywhere, including on me. I said, “Dude, that’s enough.” I left to clean myself. I awoke while wiping myself off in the WC.
I was not angry, but annoyed enough to qualify as ‘irked‘. I had gotten irked.
I thought I was part of the staff, but it turns out I was the subject. I love the subtle irony of announcing a study centered on a naïve participant, knowing that the arrogance of the dreamer should obscure the obvious truth. I recognise this as dream guide humour.
Unneeded Necessary Handbag
I dreamt I was on a ferry, like the kind used in Scandanavia. I was in a passenger cabin with a middle-aged woman who had dark hair. The ferry had taken on a list and it was time to leave. However, the woman refused to leave without her handbag. I decided to help her find it, because the cabin was small and it might well take less time to find it than to argue with her. She described a rectangular pouch that was sewn on all sides. It had no opening. I realised that she had never put anything into it and had never taken anything out. It was useless, or she had made it useless. Nevertheless, she insisted on having this thing with her during this crisis. It was literally useless baggage that kept her from reacting properly to her situation.
I realised that I was dreaming and that this was a message to me and about me. I was that woman.
I awoke.
Bewildering Breakfast Invitation
I dreamt of being in a village that was in the form of a shopping mall. People were gathered to watch some performance or to attend some meeting; I don’t remember because I was immediately approached by a husband and wife pair in their 20s who spoke with a heavy Slavic accent.
“Do you want to come with us?” the woman asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” I replied. “Who are you?”
She began to lead me away by the arm, and I immediately resisted. Then she grabbed me forcefully; I beat her back forcefully. The escalation continued, and at some point, a knife entered the fray. I don’t remember from where it came, but once I got control of it, I stabbed her; she fell, mortally wounded.
This whole time, the people in the mall ignored us, as though we were ghosts.
Then the woman stood unharmed, as though she had merely tied her shoe laces. Her husband grabbed me from behind. He broke one of my arms. While I was screaming in pain, his wife stabbed me, then began cutting and slashing with a fury. It was a painful, bloody, nightmare.
He let me go. I thought I would fall to the ground, but I did not. Instead, I looked at my unharmed body in wonder. I realised that I had imagined the pain as a response to what I perceived was happening.
“Now, do you want to have breakfast with us?” the woman asked.
“Yeah, okay.” How else do you respond after such an experience?
Without transition, we were immediately in the kitchen of an uncoloured artificial apartment. The furniture was undetailed, like CGI from the 1980s. The whole kitchen was comprised of very simple, featureless white objects.
I was somehow convinced that we were in the apartment of the man’s mother. I don’t remember seeing food, but I nevertheless had the sense that she was serving us breakfast. I also do not remember seeing her, but her presence was completely obvious somehow. The man and woman were trying explain something to me, but I can’t remember what it was. All I can remember was the woman, who was seated next to me, blossomed into a scaffold made of many arms and legs, without torso or head. This was part of what was being explained to me, but it was beyond the limit of my comprehension; I awoke.
The Alligator Test
I dreamt of French actor Alan Delon, who died in waking life not long before the dream. A movie was being filmed on his estate. There was a pool and play area immediately behind his chateau where alligators loitered. In the scene being shot, an actress had to walk naked among them. She had to train first to not feel fear, for that would otherwise excite them. Her being nude must have enhanced her sense of vulnerability.
As it was, she was entirely self-possessed. Her tall, lithe form sauntered among them as if they were so many beach balls. They barely noticed her.
I understood that I was being shown a fact about the dreaming world I already know. I have done similar tests personally dozens of times.
If you see something that elicits a little fear or a little anger, what have you, it creates a thematic gradient — a slippery slope, if you will — that leads you to more of the same. It can happen very quickly, in mere seconds, depending on the strength of attraction. This is how (I imagine) psychedelic trips become bad trips and dreams become nightmares.
I want to note, for the record, that the real horror of a nightmare is not the unpleasant thing that you are fleeing or defeating. It is a mind that chooses unpleasantness when pleasantness is equally possible.
The alligator test dream was a pleasant dream. That statement seems counter-intuitive because alligators were present. But that is the insight. And when you think about it, this insight also works in the waking world. Your experience is going to be more strongly shaped by where you put your attention than what is available for your attention.
Looking upon this dream, I realise that I have been put in remedial education. I had a set back last spring which is evidently so complete, I must start over from scratch, with the dream guides patiently showing me anew how the dream world works. How discouraging.
Zone Crossing
I dreamt of a group of 6-8 young people living on the border where the German, French and Italian language zones meet in Switzerland. (That does not exist in the waking world.) They spoke all three languages plus English fluently.
They were just shopping and clubbing and pursuing intrigues among themselves, as you might expect people in their early twenties to do. They were changing zones two or three times per day by train. No one else could keep up with them so they were very exclusive and tight-knit.
I did not interact with them, but overheard them talking to others when about 4 of them were on the French side. I had the impression that they were former and current lovers, and that the constant flux created ambiguity. They were beautiful, and Switzerland was beautiful.
I took this to be another message about the lives of dream guides. Each of us is trapped in his own dream (language zone), but they are free to cross borders. Because of that, they keep society amongst themselves, only occasionally interacting with locals for practical reasons.
Here is another dream, which differs only superficially:
I dreamt of an underground city, or rather it was a city of many canals, but the sky was obscured by buildings or steel works. It was rather steam-punk looking, with loads of mechanical bridges spanning the canals. There were walkways over the canals, which could be retracted to allow free movement on the canals. This was done, in particular, when a group of dolphins arrived. There was a religion regarding these dolphins. They would periodically arrive from the sea for some beneficial purpose, which is why the city was set up to receive them. At this point, all traffic is brought to a standstill while all walkways are retracted to allow the dolphins to progress into the city. What was special was that these dolphins could take human form. I saw this as a musical intro to a child’s television series. The dolphins would arrive, swim through the canals, and emerge from the water in human form. Even so, they continued to be playful and they pranked each other incessantly. What they did on land, I never learned, because I awoke. But I think the point of the dream was to reveal the relationship between humans and ‘dolphins’.