Again: Dreaming of a nuclear explosion ...

A few months ago I wrote about a dream of a nuclear explosion.

This morning I came across notes I made about a year and a half ago -- Easter, 2021 -- of another dream of that type:

 

detail from cover of LIFE Magazine, 9/29/1967:
"The chilling facts behind the decision to build
the ANTI BALLISTIC MISSILE"

I am walking with some people – we look up in the sky and see a bright spot in the night sky coming toward us.

We realize it is a (nuclear) missile and try to run from the point of impact. ( … through … ? … I guess that means running from the city center.)

We reach a place where there is a shopping mall. It’s unclear that’s a good place to seek shelter, but we go in.

Up and down within the shopping mall complex.

When we venture out, there is white powder on everything.

We begin the long trek – to what?

There is a moment when we must pick a direction. Someone wants to head toward NYC. I say, “No – we will just run into the river with no way to cross. We should go north – towards upstate NY.”

We follow the highway.

It makes me wonder: (a) I think about the problem of nuclear war constantly. I'm surprised that I don't have dreams like this more often! (b) Are other people having dreams like these?

"Ownlife": Do Activists Dream in Eclectic Sleep?

Dream cafe set-up

Nine years ago I wrote a post about a lesser-known concept in Orwell's 1984 -- "ownlife" -- and how it might relate to a life of political activism.

In short, I suggested that the minute we start to take time for ourselves -- time to reflect, time to heal, time to grow -- we begin to have more power as activists (and begin to be more threatening to the state).

An activist friend of mine talked this morning on social media about some of the dreams he has been having. It seemed like a good time to share something that's been developing with me:

"In the past few years, I've written more and more of my dreams down. I now set aside quiet time alone each morning to do it, and also to reflect. It is astonishing to me how clearly and completely I can remember the contents of dreams ... sometimes ... but other times, as I turn my waking attention to some little thing, the dream vanishes!"

My friend had used an expression -- "like trying to hold onto wisps of fog" -- that seemed to me to exactly capture that last-mentioned phenomenon.

At first, I just focused on recall: how much of the dream could I remember?  To my surprise, I found that if I had just a small "hook" to remind me of the dream experience, and if I relaxed, it would all come back at great length and in startling detail.

Soon I realized that it was fun to notice the little tidbits from the previous day(s) waking experience that formed the raw material or props of the dream. I'd write that down, too.

Occasionally, it seemed pretty obvious that the dream was about something I was wanting or needing or wishing for. And so that is another thing I've started to jot down.

Sometimes I even have very clear visual impressions from the dream. I do a little sketch of that.

The path one dream followed

After a long time, I started a practice of going back to the pile of notes of past dreams and transcribing them onto my computer. I noticed three interesting things.

First, often when I read the notes from a dream that I had years ago, I recall it with crystal clarity.

Second, there are certain motifs or tropes that recur. (For instance, bizarre elevator rides.) I've started to make a list of these recurring tropes in my dreams, and I'm discovering that the list is getting longer and longer!

Third, even if the dream didn't seem to mean anything at the time, after returning to it at a later time, perhaps coming at it from a different mood or with a different attitude or outlook, it can often seem quite meaningful in the new light.

They say that our sleeping time is full of dreams, and that we only ever remember a tiny fraction. As I look back over the "haul" of notes on my dreams of the past few years, and realize it's just a drop in the bucket compared to everything my brain is working on, I can't help thinking, "You're working very hard, little brain! Thanks for all that effort you're making!"

One dream had a jar of paint in a distinct
burgundy color. (What's up with that?)

As for my assertion from nearly a decade ago -- that taking time for "ownlife" gives us more power as activists and makes us more threatening to the state -- I don't yet have an assessment vis-a-vis the impact of my own dream work. I'll need to devote some time to reflect on that. (Maybe I'll even dream on it.)

Related: "Ownlife" - A Notion Too Dangerous for the State to Tolerate?