Death's Dream Kingdom

My dreams have become vivid, emotional images – surrealistic scenes – rambling scenarios with faintly recognizable characters. These unreal stage plays – artifacts of dysfunctionally hardwired neurons – are curiously generative; my brain seems to have its own identity and it is creating scenes and emotions that both reflect experiences and create new experiences from which new emotional complexities are evoked.

I see myself dying, but on that bed I am both observing and observed – by the same entity – me. I have profound experiences and images of a woman that at once I identify as the counterpart of my being – my soul…a word with which I am completely uncomfortable, but in this dream its reality…its existence as part of my being is unquestionable. I recognize that this is the person with whom I have never connected, but have yearned to know. It is a curious, transformative insight…a manifestation of what I know that I am; and, I know that I have hidden this perception from my conscious mind.

As I am dying, all the observations of the soon to be deceased are perceived to be…and I believe they are ultimate realities. Consciousness has no purview; thoughts, feelings – realities cloaked in the veneer of defensive distortions – tip-toe out from beneath the veil and are rendered unto me in disturbing imagery.

It is all at once mysterious and frightening; clarifying and confounding. Unfortunately the things I see and the accompanying feelings allow me to know what I have denied; I don’t really know myself. I am suppressing – what? Thoughts…ideas…longings…behavior…? I don’t know. But the reality of the dream points to a life of experiences without lessons, thoughts without meaning; a free-floating persona that is the product of a delusional consciousness.

The dreamer talks to me in symbols and images that carry the lessons and truths of a lifetime. I wish I could talk to me when I’m awake; I wish this inner-thing that knows me well could show me the path ahead. I am desperately afraid that the life for which I was intended will pass me by, and I have so little time to discover what little truth is available to me.