I slept about 5 hours and was woken up maybe 6 times during that sleep, so it was quite interesting. I had two interesting dreams. The whole time I was in a bizarre state that was not quite awake and not quite asleep. My mind was with me completely and the settings were all realistic, with nothing fantastical happening.
In the first dream I was talking to a man in the living room. He was a few inches taller than me. I don’t know who he was. He seemed bald or with very fine stubble on his head. I was talking about reality itself and what’s behind it all. As I spoke I was able to see what I was talking about, not as pictures in my mind but floating out there in space. I was describing reality as I saw it in front of my own eyes.
At the bottom level was Mind, which is synonymous with God. It is from Mind that all things arise. Above that are concepts, things like mathematics and Platonic forms, and above that the physical laws of the world. The raw facts about the world, how many atoms there are, what elements combine together to form molecules, the planets, all trivia of all kinds sits above that. Creative thoughts are above that, and above that are concrete thoughts, since they take less mind power to think. Above that are the two kinds of people, in their kind, the intellectual and the physical, and then animals and plants, and then simple organisms who only know basic prehension. It’s a feeling – the feeling of feeling; the feeling of having feelings. Even the simplest living things feel something, and that most basic sensation links them with the Mind that sits at the foundation of everything. Sitting at the very top, as the very crust of reality, is non-living matter, which is so inert that it convinces us of the illusion of physicality. We don’t realize the world is like a substantiated dream because it all feels so solid.
In the second dream I was outside. I had gone outside after checking the freezer and finding a TV dinner there, which meant I didn’t have to get anything else to eat. Outside I was in a different place. It was a city with buildings made of blue stone and an overcast sky that had just finished letting out a little rain. Everything was wet. I was talking to a British man and we were having great fun. We walked out into a little park or green space in the middle of two streets with buildings on either side.
We got to the subject of having kids and he mentioned an alleged fact about how British sperm was superior to that of other nationalities. I half-jokingly replied that I’d rather enjoy multiple attempts at having a baby over his guarantee if it meant not having a baby with crooked British teeth. We both laughed at that.
He took out a cigarette and a match and tried to light it off his fingernail, but it wouldn’t light because the match had gotten damp too. The match broke in half and he started rubbing the two halves together trying to start a fire. I asked him if he had ever started a fire by rubbing sticks together and somehow he managed to get an ember going. “What do you call that?” he said with a satisfied smirk. “An ember,” I replied. A dry leaf, probably the only one in the whole area, lofted down into my hands and I placed it on the ember to get the fire started. He didn’t seem to mind holding the burning leaf in his hand but told me to gather more material for the fire. I looked around at the leaves in the grass that were all wet and picked several though I was convinced they were too wet to sustain a fire. I placed them on a little bare patch of dirt next to a wrought iron bench and he placed the burning leaf on the pile.
I woke up and saw the whole world fade away like a fine mist and I was back in my bed.