How to Sleep When Friends are Nocturnal

This topic keeps me awake at night. It’s hard to hit the hay when your friends want to hang. These are some thoughts of mine, but I’m hoping to receive feedback on some of your methods.

For me gaming, socializing, and lounging can all go exponential into the wee hours of the morning when friends are involved. Bonding time is extremely valuable, but it’s important to note the potential enabling of a poor circadian rhythm. Sleeping schedules can get soft-wired into your system and be a potential nuisance when you want to maintain a work ethic.

It’s easy to ignore long term issues for short term pleasure, no one can argue that hedonism is a fun way to live. However, proper education on the role of sleep can lead to empowered rhythm surfing. Rhythm surfing is my way of saying, smooth and calculated adjustments to your sleep schedule to meet your life needs.

Friends complicate things, I often hear from my Miami friends “The clubs get best after 2 am!”

There may be some value in exploring how group discussion on sleep makes for better cohesion. I imagine that friendships operate better between well-rested people as opposed to groggy ones.

Share any thoughts you have. I could definitely use the advice.

Dream On Little Dreamers,

EB

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Dreaming of Dead Ends

Sometimes I put myself under an enormous amount of pressure to succeed. It’s a good trait to have, but the stale sense of doom that whips it into motion can be oppressive.

Lately I’ve been dreaming of, you guessed it, dead ends. The sort that keep sleeping-me confused in blobby dark places and waking-me feeling like I haven’t taken a breath in minutes. The imagery I can gather from my journals is a bit gruesome:

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I remember sitting in a barber’s chair getting a haircut by a large foreign man. I was distressed because I knew I had already received a haircut recently and didn’t want him to botch it. He told me I had to stay for the shave but I complained I had no time, there was work to be done. I left only to be chased through a dark mall by zombies. Circling around the building, I found myself at the barber again just in time to see him use his blade to cut the scalp off his next customer. I was validated in my earlier fears, but also resigned to my doom to zombies and apparently Sweeney Todd. 

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For the most part I’m struggling to remember the fine details of these dead-end dreams. It’s frustrating to know how self-perpetuating these kinds of dreams can be. But I’ll be out of this dreary period soon. Earlier today I had a dream with vibrant color and if that’s not a blessed sign I don’t know what is.

It can be hard for me to post in this blog when I’m not recalling my dreams as well. However, I fully intend to be the pondering hub for all your wiggly dream things. I’d like to thank my small community of followers, every ‘like’ and ‘view’ encourages me incredibly.

Dream on little dreamers,

EB

Bittersweet Sigh of a Forgotten Dream

Awakened quickly to ringing tones

I set myself to this day’s home

Traffic hums – the beasts’ moan

Listening to my mind of stones

I feel so close and yet so vague

A woman there, I think, a shade?

Time’s too finite here.

Car door opened, no longer alone

solid things needing to be known.

On desk-like parapet I note a peer…

There were eyes like that one’s

with star mist gaze like talons.

I shook it off, not in this world.

Despite myself, no dream unfurled.

What Do We Seek From Dreams?

In essence, dreams are our personal window to the subtle mechanisms that underlie our everyday self. Sometimes these insights are inspiring, other times they are frightful. But the question I seek to answer is: how do these ephemeral movies reveal their worth in a tangible way? There is no worth to this practice of journaling unless I can prove that it makes a positive difference in my quality of life.

I’ve just made the five hour drive from Miami to Gainesville, and I listened to the audiobook Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse along the way. The book, published in 1922, depicts the spiritual journey of the character Siddhartha as he seeks the meaning of worldly existence. It was amazingly written, to say the least, but the point of interest came not from Siddhartha but from Hermann himself.

Hermann Hesse was a german-born novelist who, by virtue of his birth in 1877, lived in the interesting time of the two world wars and the rise of psychoanalysis. His commitment to psychotherapy, the practice of dream analysis, is credited with helping Hesse move past periods of writers block caused by the intense strain of his time period. It was through his dreams that Hesse was able to recapture the value of his waking life’s work, and thus continue to work on highly appraised literature such as Siddhartha.

Through our lives there will be many sources of anxiety and stress that will lock us away from the drives that fulfill us. It is difficult to achieve our actualizing goals, and easy to forget about their importance in the tumults of life. Dreams are the key to these inevitable locks. It is in our dreams that we cannot ignore the necessities of our eternal witness. Whether you attend to them or not, dreams will remind you of your virtues and your failures.

The thing that we seek from dreams is luminescence on the path of our lives. If we can better see the past and future lain out by our innermost self, we may be better prepared to act upon that wisdom when the opportunity arrives.

What do you want from your dreams? I’m surely missing quite a few potential uses. When was the last time a dream made an effect on your reality?

Dream on Little Dreamers,

EB

Hanging On to the Day as I’m Fading Away

I’ve approached an interesting point in my lucid dream career where the memories of dreams are often as poignant as those in my day to day life. The nightly occurrence of vivid dreams is a boon that I find difficult to resist at times.

I’ve recently whipped my sleeping schedule back into shape after about a week of sleeping 12 hours a day. As I slept-in my circadian rhythm creeped closer and closer to the sunrise until the morning birds were chirping a concerto before I made it to bed. There was a certain peak moment in that binge of dreams where I was recalling up to three dreams in a night, but it was soon drowned out by the grogginess and work-stress that comes with a terrible sleeping schedule.

It is with this that I present the advice: hang on to the real world, no matter how tempting it may be to fade into your dreams. It is only with the experience and turmoil of the real world that dreams have any significance or substance. As I slept every sun-lit hour out of the day I sensed the quality of my dreams decrease. It was as though I had processed all the important bits and my brain was just running through the motions of mediocre falling dream, mediocre running dream, and mediocre underwater dream.

My sleeping schedule is back under control and my dreams are at a healthy one recalled per night. It’s unnerving to think of the temptation of my unconscious mind as a legitimate drive from living my life but there are worse things.

Dream on Little Dreamer,

EB

Fishing for meaning in an ocean of dreams

Lately I’ve had an unusually high density of dreams of the nautical nature. Within the past week or so I’ve had three separate dreams that involve fishing as the main plot point.
To give some background I have been fishing since I was about 13 as it is my go-to bonding experience with my grandfather. Ironically neither of us are very good at fishing and we end most outings having caught/released fish too small to eat but happy to have spent the time with the water. Being a 21-year-old now means that I’ve spent a fair amount of time in a Hemmingway trance staring at the beautiful yet unyielding ocean. However, now that I’m in college I live too far from the water to make an easy trek so it’s been a long time since I’ve gone out fishing. 

Now on to the dreams.
I’m out on a anchored speedboat in the middle of a vast ocean. I have my very familiar grey fishing rod with me and cast it out to sea. I wait, the pressure building as I attempted to anticipate the movement of creatures hidden just below the waves. My line pulls taut and I know I’ve caught a big one. For a moment I worry that the rod I brought isn’t strong enough to hold but I end up reeling it in with relative ease. I pulled it up next to the boat and found that it was a marlin about half the size of the boat and clearly heavier than me. Throwing an arm over the side I began trying to haul it up on the boat when I realized there was a princess in the water. Dressed in a fluffy pink dress reminiscent of Princess Peach she was swimming towards the boat to get a better look at the fish. The distraction gave the fish the opportunity to thrash about and break the line. To my surprise he went straight for the princess and casually consumed her before sinking back into the ocean. 

And another one…

I’m in North Carolina on a vacation with my three female younger cousins. We’re in a jacuzzi on the balcony of a rental house overlooking the snowy deciduous forest scenery. All four of us have a fishing rod and are fishing in the middle of the jacuzzi. My grandfather comes out of the house and tells us that there are no fish in the jacuzzi. I got the sudden sense that the jacuzzi was too deep and fearfully got everyone out. I tried to help my 16-year-old cousin put away her fishing rod on the way back into the house but it continually warped into impossible shapes as I tried to secure the hook on the line. Giving up on the rod, I watched as a minuscule child with a somewhat purple hue, who I did not recognize, toddled its way to the jacuzzi. With a quick scoop I saved the child from falling in. I woke up with a strange sense that the tiny child represented my unborn daughter.

The last one is nice and short…

I was lost on a pier. I had the vague inkling that I was there for a purpose but had forgotten it. I saw a large rod left baited leaning against the railing. I cast it out just to see what would happen. For some reason as I cast the line I took the perspective of the bait and went diving headfirst into the water. The shock of this woke me up. 

 

My dreams have been pretty gracious in letting me experience a favorite activity of mine from the comfort of my bed. What do you all think of the fishing in dreams? Is it some kind of metaphor for facing the unknown or something else entirely?

I’d be interested to hear your thoughts below. 

 

Dream on little dreamers, 

EB

 

Memory on the fritz? Don’t give up!

I’ll say this as much to you all as I do to myself: When it seems like the dreams just wont come, keep trying! Even if you get one bizarre sentence into your dream journal every morning it’s better than nothing. Every little bit counts.

It’s hard to teach something like dream recording where the results do not always match the effort. It can be discouraging to even try when memorable dreams are rare.

Supplements like Fish-oil and multivitamins can be used to help improve memory recall. Also in Thomas Yuschak’s book “Advanced Lucid Dreaming The Power of Supplements,” Piracetam is said to increase the vividness of dreams if taken in low dosages immediately after experiencing a lucid dream. I’d say that seems like a tough moment to pinpoint to take a pill, but I figured I’d mention it for the sake of intrigue. 

I’ve never been one to take any kind of supplements. I find it important to learn how to deal with the “lows” in your relationship with your dreams. When frustrated, I often begin to dismiss dreams as “meaningless” and slack on my recording routine. 

It’s important to avoid letting this kind of burn-out thinking lessen your faith in dreams. Remember that no matter what every night you have a dream. It can be long or short, vivid or faded and even just wacky but they all mean something. 

If you haven’t remembered last night’s dream, that’s ok. Try again tomorrow! Trust me that your unconscious mind won’t be silent any time soon. 

 

Dream on little dreamers,

EB