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


I had a dream

DALLAS, TEXAS - MARCH 31: Yoga Poses. (Jensen Walker)My time spent asleep is … different. I’m not really sure how to describe it as it is most of the time. Typically, I “go to sleep” but I’m still, by far, mostly aware that my body is resting. Oddly enough, I’ve even – midsleep – found myself to be aware that my mind is resting, too. Dreams are not a common occurrence for me, unless you mean day dreaming. However, I do occasionally dream while I’m actually asleep. When this happens, I awake knowing the my mind dreamed, but almost always forget the details of that dream within hours of waking. Recently, though, this was not the case. The details follow.

I was at the gym… the usual happening Monday through Friday between around 5:30pm and 7:30pm. I was in a side area often used for stretching or doing body-based exercise, an area I’m never found in usually. I completed some random, nondescript stretches and then decided to strike a pose. A yoga pose, of course. A tree pose, to be specific. It was a modified tree pose that included a couple of additional mudras. Not long after assuming this pose, my hands found anjalimudra and things got weird.

Still in Vrikshasana, newly formed anjalimudra, I began to exhale. And exhale. And exhale. I exhaled for a REALLY long time. After this went on for some time, my face started becoming all veiny… but like vampire veiny where the veins are not only bulging but are like …black. Very dark. During this super exhale, I intoned a very subtle Aum, but solid enough that it felt almost concrete.

Shortly after noticing this (in my dream), everything began to quiver. I mean my body. I remained composed – eyes closed, even. But it was like this one monster I saw in the True Blood series that would get her mojo going to conjure up some evil and in the process would vibrate. I’m not sure how to describe this odd vibrating/shaking that my body did. It was throughout my entire body and if you were to see it, your vision of me would have been affected, like I became blurry or something. It was very intense, although I never fell out of pose or opened my eyes or anything.

And then it stopped. Just like that. Well, it retracted actually… into some place within me. Complete stillness pervaded everything. And further, in that complete stillness, it was like all the sound and air had suddenly been sucked out of the gym. Think of that weird super silence that happens during an electrical outage, only add to it a strange atmospheric pressure that makes you feel like something is about to transpire – because something was about to. It’s that pregnant silence that makes you hold your own breath for what might be about to surprise you.

After moving into the pose, and the subsequent vibratory “expansion,” which was followed by a vacuum sealed “implosion,” everything came apart. Everything except my body. If you’ve ever seen the X-Men movies from years ago, the best way I can describe the dissolution in my dream is to refer to the movie with the Jean Grey character who eventually becomes the Phoenix. At the end of that movie, she’s very pissed or hurt or something and so she sees fit to dissolve all of existence down to its molecular level. It happened in that movie… and in my gym, although I was neither hurt nor pissed.

By the end of my dream, I was all that remained – not just of the gym, but anywhere. And as I became enveloped by an expansive black void, surrounded by swirling “stuff dust,” I opened my eyes and grinned almost imperceptibly. The whole time my entire being was content. Quiet and still. An aura was just visible right around my head, and it was golden and purple and a little green right very close to my skin.

And then I awoke.

( OM ) Loka – Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu

There are three worlds of existence: the physical, the subtle, and the causal, termed Bhuloka, Antarloka, and Shivaloka.


The physical plane, or Bhuloka, is the world of gross material substance in which phenomena are perceived by the five senses. It is the most limited of the worlds, least permanent, and the most subject to change. The material world is where we have our experiences, manufacture karma and fulfill the desires and duties of life in a physical body. It is in Bhuloka that consciousness is limited, that awareness of the other two worlds is not always remembered.

The subtle plane, or Antarloka, is the mental-emotional sphere that we function in through thought and feeling and reside in fully during sleep and after death. It is the astral world that exists within the physical plane. The astral plane is for the most part exactly duplicated in the physical plane, though it is of a more intense rate of vibration.

The causal plane, or Shivaloka, pulsates at the core of being, deep within the subtle plane. It is the superconscious world where God and highly evolved souls live and can be accessed through yoga and temple worship. The causal plane is the world of light and blessedness, the highest of the heavenly regions, extolled in the scriptures of all faiths.

It is the foundation of existence, the source of visions, the point of conception, the apex of creation, abode of Lord Shiva Himself. The Shivaloka is the natural refuge of all souls.

(The above is taken from Jan/Feb/Mar 2013 issue of Hinduism Today)