Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

A bit over a week ago, at work, we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a debate about dreams. I’ll mention now that I’m actually quite good at interpreting dreams. To save my life, I still don’t know how we came to be talking about this, but we did and it left me with some uncomfortable feelings. That much, I’m still sorting out – at least until I decide I plain just don’t care. Details of parts of the conversation, though, I’d like to share – as well as my thoughts on suchery.

At some point in the chat, a coworker had mentioned that he read that most people dream in the third person. I’d say this is definitely true of my own experience with dreams. Mine have almost always been vivid, and almost invariably where the real me is more of an observer than anything – often watching myself play some role in the dream itself.

At another point, I mentioned that I almost never dream. Right away, people were quick to point out how wrong I am, since studies have shown that absolutely EVERYONE dreams EVERY night. When citing these studies, which these people actually knew almost nothing about, it was agreed upon by just about everyone – who had suddenly become sleep specialists – that I couldn’t possibly not dream. I tried explaining that I’m not saying I never dream. I tried explaining that my sleep is “different” and actually quite aware. I even went into some details about that, knowing already that my audience wouldn’t understand.

Here’s what’s bothersome about all of this: People don’t seem open to the idea that someone else’s experience might differ significantly from the bulk of everyone else’s.

At no time did I ever refute what “studies have shown.” (Well, maybe a little.) At no time did I ever say anyone was wrong. I did, however, indicate that I wasn’t a test subject with any of those studies (and so the results as they would apply to me might well vary) and that I’m fairly conscious while “asleep” and that this puts me in a different position from which I am (was) speaking. Responses I got literally ignored what I was saying. I received questions like, “Maybe you just don’t know that you’re dreaming” which I admitted could be the case except for the mostly-alert awareness I experience while I sleep.

It was actually quite frustrating – these people couldn’t see past what they had already digested in their minds. They really couldn’t. It’s like they were saying, “Apples, Apples, Apples” and I said, “What about Oranges?” and was met with, “No. Apples.” Although it wasn’t mentioned specifically, this factored, a bit, into a recent post wherein I self-jinxed. Things like this are making a change within me.

I can tell it.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namah
Aum Shanti

Advertisement

The Elephant in the Room

20131107 was a Thursday. I don’t write about these things very often, but I had an experience during that evening’s puja and when I shared tidbits about it with a friend, I received encouragement that this end up bloggered. So here you have it… To be clear, my daily pujas are REALLY simple. Short and sweet. I think the most the whole ordeal only ever really takes is something around 15-20 minutes. On particularly “holy” days, I do a bit more in terms of worship.

Last night was only different from any normal week night puja in that my home mandir has been newly decorated with some white Xmas lights. I’ve done this before and really enjoy the warm, glowing effect it has on the entire temple room. But that’s not entirely true about last night’s puja only being different because of Xmas lights. Last night was also different because “something” happened. When I mentioned this to my friend, I think I put it in terms of a “visitation” but the closer reality is likely that it was more of a “clarification.”

My home mandir currently

I’m sitting before the mandir like always, doing the ritual like always. I recall a certain point in the process when I almost suddenly felt like I wasn’t alone. My immediate perception was that Shri Ganesh-ji had “arrived” and was in the room with me. Mind you, the beginning of every puja involves an invocation, so technically He’s always present during puja. I call to Him. He arrives. And I worship. This time however, the air in the room felt like it was more occupied than usual.

Toward the end of the puja I spend time in contemplation, dhyana, japa. It was at this time that I felt particularly aware of the room and everything happening in it. The glow from the mandir was pleasant. The asana I had wrapped myself in was hugging. The incense, a recent Diwali gift from my bahin in Atlanta, smelled great. For a very short time I seemed to feel the vibrations from the shlokas and other things intoned during the puja – as if they were reverberating throughout the room still. Then suddenly, and very sweetly, I realized that I wasn’t alone in the room. My first thought was something like, “Whoa-shit! Ganesha’s here big time!” The only form of Ganesha that I actually saw was the Vira-Ganesh murti in my mandir, but I really felt another, far-fuller, Presence.

Some readers are likely entertaining thoughts like, “This kind of stuff is all in his head.” And, I believe, that is the truth. Now, before anyone gets all huffy and puffy on me, let me say that I’m not implying that Ganesh is imaginary. What I intend to say instead is that Ganesh and I are essentially non-different and what I really, truly, and actually felt then was my Self.

I recall Shri Eckhart Tolle telling of a time when he was at his lowest and had grown suicidal. One of the last thoughts he recalls from the moments before he planned to go through with the act was “I cannot live with myself.” Strangely, right then, it dawned on him that there were two entities in that thought. There was first the “myself” that couldn’t be lived with and then there was also the “I” that seemed to be speaking and could no longer tolerate an existence with the “myself.” He questioned right then who was the “I” that couldn’t live with his “myself.” It was then that he realized that there is a component of who he is that isn’t touched by the misery of the “myself” and had grown weary of experiencing that misery.

Some would maybe say that this sounds a little like a schizophrenic break, but the reality is: We are not our mind.

The mind is an immensely powerful thing. And the ego, necessary for functioning in this life, maintains an incredibly close relationship with the mind. One of the results of this relationship is that we begin identifying with our thoughts and consequently believe that we are our mind – or that our thoughts reflect our truest selves. It’s not true.

There’s a saying, which this post is titled after, that mentions “the elephant in the room” and references something not spoken about, but potentially quite obvious. The elephant felt to be in the room with me during the final moments of last night’s puja is That. This elephant could well be called Ganesha. It would just as well be called my Self – the timeless spark of God that lives in each of us. The “I” that lives with “myself.” It’s very much like “the elephant in the room” because it’s not spoken of hardly ever, yet it’s all that there really is. I suppose within the Advaita Hindu view of things, this elephant is in the room and pervades the room, and IS the room. I often am able to separate my mind/ego from who I am – even to the point that I can watch the mind/ego function, and as Tolle says, it’s madness. But it was a blessing and true surprise last night when my Self became the Ganesha my worship was directed at – and that the connection was so complete that “I” filled the room and even surprised my own mind.

The friend who encouraged me to publish a post about the experience, when I initially refused, encouraged me to write – not so much to say, “Look how awesome this was” as to say, “Look what’s out there.” Reader, please know You are what’s out there. You are what’s worshipable. And You are far more awesome than even yourself realizes.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha
Aum Shanti