I’ve had active dreams latterly. Many of the dreams have been brooding, but not all. I had an enjoyable dream last week full of the most enjoyable (and periodically, acrobatic) sex. I wish I could describe it here but I’m mindful of the kiddies. Notably I realised I couldn’t live without the woman in my dreams (a stranger) because I couldn’t live without such scintillating sex. And she felt the same.
Last night the dream was different. The narrative is irrelevant, but the clear message bears repeating. It might sound negative but the point of it was that you are not as special as you think you are. We all embellish. We don’t see ourselves truly. Because we desire we presume to see ourselves in a certain light. The truth is we are all more mediocre than we think ourselves to be.
I remember in the dream thinking ‘but I want to be special’. Fine was the response, you may have gifts that can make you special but in the ruck and roil and general compromise of humankind they are all evened out. If you really want to be special you must do more than wish it. It is possible, but you must strive to make it so.
It was a thoughtful dream and afterwards I wondered where it came from. Dreams like this make me believe that they are a representation of things we are unwilling or unable to accept in our waking moments. There was a ring of truth to this, as if it was something I had realised somewhere deep in my mind but had never turned to face.
Thinking on it on the train to work this morning I was brought to mind of those remarkable photos of a great mass of people mingling together. They go in different directions, face different ways, but amid them there is the one face facing the camera our eyes are drawn to. Amid the crowd he is the one person we see.
That is how we see ourselves. That’s understandable, probably healthy. It’s worthwhile to remember the crowd to. Even this, my blog, this is my upturned face – but to most of the world this face is turned away, just another body in the tumult.