No Wrong Way To Remember

The other day I was talking with a friend about dreaming logs and he offered me a glimpse of his journal. The dark leather-bound book filled my outreached palms, a slim steel buckle guarded its contents.

“Are you sure? I recognize these matters are sometimes private.” I sheepishly asked.

“Go ahead!” he urged.

I held my breath. My thumping heart made me fumble with the simple latch. Within were the unconscious records of another’s mind, the first scribbled pages felt like mountaintops of the great frontier.

From these a pattern of heavy pen inked drawings emerged. These etchings were extremely stylized and ranged from incomplete to intricate. Long-armed damsels had their curvature enhanced through trans-dimensional gowns. Gaunt gentlemen garbed in gothic suits were surrounded by eerie smoke. They were inspired bits straight from another world!

My friend explained that he enjoys fashion design and often wakes with the memory of these clothing styles. His journal was shudderingly alive with these images and wonderfully disjointed words to supplement….for about 15 pages.

He felt that he wasn’t ‘doing it right’ with journaling and had trouble committing to the practice.

There is no wrong way to record your dreams! I’d have yelled it at him if I had a more alpha personality, but instead I suggested it gently.

So here’s an experiment. Remember the last time you ate icecream….1……2…….3…….Now STOP!

What did you think of? A word? A taste? A sound? An image? Record whatever you thought of on a scrap piece of paper.

A dream recording exercise.

Ice Cream for Ice Cream! I’m no Picasso, but this record will do.

Try again with something else. Remember the last time you pet an animal. How about an audio story? Was it a fast-paced affair or did you cuddle?

[I made an audio recording of this one but apparently can’t insert that on wordpress, does anyone know how to transmit audio here?]

Keep it fresh!

There isn’t a wrong way, but there’s a whole lot of ways to try. Make it personal and fun, don’t stress over the little details. Your dreams are just that, yours!

Dream on little dreamers,

EB

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I Dream of a World of Dreamers

“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope some day you’ll join us, and the world will be as one.” -John Lennon.

I dream (figuratively) of a world that prioritizes the substance of dreamer’s visions. These dreams are not the backwash of our daily lives but rather a vision of our possible futures. I refuse to believe the materialist excuse, which dismisses dreams as a mess of neurotransmitter firings left amok in the absence of a conscious overseer. Mastery of dreams equates to mastery of the self.

The path of psychotherapy is deeply appealing to me. I find its progress greatly inspiring and wish the best for those who advance this science. However, with all the assertion of an undergraduate psychology student I feel that there are some structural flaws in its practice. Subjective analysis, an interpretative approach vulnerable to personal biases,  in psychotherapy is its downfall.

Why can’t we nail down the reactions of the unconscious the same way Pavlov could condition the salivation of a dog? It’s extremely difficult to study, sure. It’s made of a smorgasbord of influences from the environment and genetics and dietary influences, sure. It’s a big scary question mark that has brought many psychologists careers to a shrieking halt, sure. Why don’t we try anyway?

Allowing subjectivity to be a core tenant of your scientific theory is the equivalent to sending a man to the moon with no spacesuit. It will fail and when it does it will be a tragic loss.

I want a version of psychotherapy that focuses less on interpretation and more on causality. One that is purpose-driven in its goal to make dream analysis both a valid and reliable science. Why not experiment on the plasticity of the unconscious mind? Give me ten hours of hanging out in the New York subway system and see if I dream of large crowds and rats, I volunteer!

I just want to see people care about their dreams again. Too often I bring up the conversation only to be met with “I haven’t had a dream in years.” Oh but they have, every night they’ve fallen into REM sleep (unless there’s some sleep apnea going on) they’re dreaming so many utilizable things. It’s so very sad they don’t know it.

Dream on Little Dreamers,

EB

How to Respond to Dream Dissatisfaction

Just a short post today, I think I’ll revisit this topic later.

Sometimes we have dreams that we just plain don’t like. It seems like the easiest way to get back at an unpleasant dream is to forget it, and “just leave this one off the books” so to speak.

I’ll admit that I’ve done this countless times (literally countless because there is no record of the times I’ve done it). Earlier this week I had a friend ask me about whether I have dreams that are too dissatisfactory to record. I answered: “Of course! But I do everything I can to fight that urge and record them anyway.” I provided the example of a nightmare I had where I was the victim of an alleyway rape. It was extremely difficult to motivate myself to record the details of this dream but that struggle paid large dividends on my post-record satisfaction.

From that dream there were many deep-seated themes that I felt were not often approached by my dreams. It seems to me that unpleasant dreams are pockmarked with meaning, which may be part of why they’re so distasteful to wake up from. I find that I’m usually quite grumpy when I wake from these dreams.

It’s a much healthier approach altogether to approach the troubles of your unconscious mind than to repress them. It is a natural product of dream recording that you’re going to have unconscious experiences that are extremely unpleasant to offset the pleasant ones that will also come. Each time I asses one of these dreams I find that I am deeply fulfilled by studying them.

deeply-troubling-Grumpy-Cat

So try to think of Grumpy Cat next time you want to grumpily toss aside your journal.

Dream on Little Dreamers,

EB

A Recording Revolu(a)tion

Recording dreams is hard, like sorting a grocery bag full of Magic ™ cards under a dose of morphine hard, but damn is it worth it. So lets talk about how to see the forest for the trees and how to equip yourself for ease.

In the past five months I’ve been experimenting with using an audio recording device to supplement my journaling practices. It’s been extremely effective for extracting dreams from days where grogginess or morning responsibility would leave them to exile. The audio plays out like a yawn-fest ramble, but the point gets across. Personally, I have a lot more peace of mind hitting the snooze button after taking a few minutes to note that space alien that was just about to eat me moments before.

I want to stress that there is no cost barrier to entry for this style of dream recording. To quote our Apple overlords “there’s an app for that.” There are free audio recording apps in abundance on smart phone and tablet app stores.

On my IPhone I’ve used the free Voice Memos app and was satisfied with the quality; my only complaint is the transferred file defaults to entering your iTunes library. I’ve dabbled more with audio apps in the Android app store and would recommend the free Smart Voice Recorder app. I’ll often switch between my Android tablet and my Sony device depending on which is closest when I wake up.

Let’s lighten up and talk about wiggly dream-stuff. I find that dreams recorded with audio have a different feel than written ones upon review. Audio has a way of catching the discreet details of dreams at face-value while words tend to capture higher themes and roll with them. As an alternative metaphor, on a canvas audio dreams would look like water colors applied with a spoon while written dreams would look more like acrylic applied with a window wiper.

There are strengths and weaknesses to both, but using them in conjunction is a good way to adapt to your morning circumstances. The greatest danger to someone seeking to lucid dream is burnout when a few dreams are forgotten. Why wouldn’t you equip yourself with more tools to catch your inner self before it slips from you?

I’d like to finish this post with an experimental dream record analysis of something on my Sony from last night, which may give you some idea of the dialogue.

——————–

I had a dream that I woke up in a computer chair in the middle of a Renaissance fair. My chest hurt and I wondered if I had slept incorrectly [a pain that I attributed on record to weight-lifting strains]. Everyone was in costume and I knew I had to blend, I grabbed a heavy blue blanket and tied it as a cape as the start of my own costume. I needed a mask and saw a stand with a child’s Transformer mask that was also blue [on record I grumbled that it wasn’t cool enough for me]. I met an old friend Kristina and her fiancee Rene [on record I mused how radiant she looked in her pregnancy, talked briefly about how beautiful her baby bump and her enchanting happiness].

[[[At this point there is a nearly incoherent section about a damaged wedding-cake, a black child facedown on the floor, and a large group of costumed people — this apparently was a bad dream sign that I decided not to express to Rene in the dream]]].

Rene [who I noted I’ve never actually met in real life] and I got along well in the dream, I asked him about his experience in the peace corps as we walked down some royal-looking white stairs. Kristina interrupted his answer by bounding down the steps 2-3 steps at a time [above Rene’s head I saw a thought bubble that expressed 5/5 stars, a concept that I have trouble describing in writing even now]. We get to the bottom of the steps and all start running through this gorgeous mansion: the floors made of checkered peach/black marble, the walls etched with “long dead important people.”

They ran past me towards another staircase that was wider at the bottom than the top, it lead to heights I couldn’t see. As I tried to catch up a decrepit woman appeared from an airport walkway [I had great trouble describing this object in audio, and bumbled my words for awhile] off to the left and told me “Turn back! this is a museum, you’re not supposed to be here.”  I considered whether to tell her that I wasn’t the only one there, but as I looked up and saw them holding hands walking up the steps [they looked so happy, I can almost hear myself smile], I decided against it – apologizing for my transgression and walking away.

———————-

As you can see there’s a certain monologue that takes place alongside the dream. It can be difficult to extricate the observations of my grumpy morning self from those I experienced during the dream. I hope this gives you some idea of what an audio record feels like and that I’ve made you a bit curious to try it for yourself.

Dream on little dreamers,

EB