Dreams, or Reality?

[Tarina]

I have had this thought floating around in my brain for quite some time. When I go to sleep at night, I am simply living in a different plane of existence. My sleeping body tells me, no you are here, but where really are the differant planes of existence? Is there any proof that life after death is when we start on this new endeavor? Or rather, are we catching a glimpse of our lives while we alternately live them? I have been in many types of dreams, some of which seem so real that it makes my waking mind wonder. I would love to imagine that yes, our dreams connect us to our alternate lives that we are living at the same time as this one. Not too out there, if it is, it is not to me anyways. I think we all of heard of the theory of differant actions cause differant reactions, and thus split off into differant realities. I would love to learn more on any of these mind bending possibilities. Thanxs to all of you who have something to add or discuss?

[mkirkpatrick]

Thanks Tarina,great first thread starter,if we did not wake up from a dream would we ever know any different?We have a seperate reality,one that is our awake mode,the other is our sleep mode,in awake mode we are pretty much
limited to what we can do,however in sleep mode,
everything is possible.
We do indeed visit other realms while asleep,and leave our
physical bodies to travel in our astral or etheric bodies.

Sleep is known in some circles as the first cousin of death
and that nightly sleeping is a rehearsal!


warm regards michael.

[Mikal]

Hi Tarina...welcome to the TOE. Have you ever had the experience of Deja Vue and then realized that it is something that you previously dreamed. I have had that experience many times in my life and always find it quite mysterious. It always makes me wonder if in the dream state we are actually closer to the future events that might appear in our lives. Strange stuff, marked by incredible feelings when Deja Vue is experienced....


Mikal

[austintorn@aol.com]

A day, in the period that it subtends, is the cyclic unit of time, a pearl pure and round and complete in the necklace of months, a bead worn smooth. The days, polished by the clacking of time over the cobblestones, distance themselves, like echoes absorbed by the night, into the rosary of the seasons. My new day begins at midnight, the time when a day lives and dies as the date changes unseen on a timepiece—a watch fire reborn from its own embers.

I lay barely awake, reading, the waves of sleep seeping ever closer, in circles, it seemed, lapping at me as my book fell toward the bed and even once to the floor. The cat had succumbed hours ago and slept, snuggled and purring, with a paw across its eyes. Summoning one last motion out of the deepening paralysis, I stretched for the lamp and drew the darkness over me and rested warm and naked between the sheets. The mini blinds sliced the moon, and I bathed for a moment in the stripes until I turned away from the light and drifted toward darkness. I thought of the pine tree under which I would sleep next to the old stone wall in my dreams—my recurring haven of repose—in a securely warm cocoon of the snugness of a sleeping bag; here I would be utterly removed from even the touch of All—my body and spirit proximate to a new radiance, that of the day’s heat remitted from the stones back into the night air. I, too, in sleeping, would absorb from Nature whatever it was that was renewed afresh each night through the mysterious black conduit. With one last look back to the day’s events, I yielded to the sweet delight of dreams.

But, my sleep within a sleep upon layers of pine needles would have to wait, because the adventures and daydreams of the day, like pine needles on end, prodded my sleeping brain with their ever pleasant spikes. Sleep’s circle had closed to a point and reopened on the other side, taking me through its black hole and into another universe…

[labelwench]

....an interesting topic and will likely yield many perspectives.

As one who most often sleeps dreamlessly, the rare occasions that I am cognizant of dreaming, are easy to recall and would seem to have a teaching purpose for myself.

To awake after an 8 hour sleep, totally exhausted from a period of interactive dreaming, is an unusual sensation.

Labelwench

[AntonioLao]

The difference between dream and reality is their directional constraints. There are less in the former and more in the latter. Analogously, dream is two dimensional while reality is three dimensional. The difference is just one extra dimension.

[melanie]

There is no difference between unconscious dreaming and conscious reality.
Just as our nightly dreams appear real... What then is really real..?

Our nightly dreams are appearing in the same reality as our waking life.
There is no difference in these states they are one and the same reality.
All occurring in the same conscious / awareness.
AWARENESS is always wide awake.
Does the moon go to sleep.
We are not separately conscious, we only imagine that we are.

So what is really real then... impossible to say.
There is no immutable screen separate from the changing colours separate from awareness of them...

-seeing and colour are one-hearing and sound are one
-smelling and odour are one-tasting and flavour are one
-feeling and feelings are one-knowing and meaning are one

One.....this is the measure of eternity-always and ever-NOW

The dimensions of all known realities are mental constructs.
Projected mental pictures into 2-D material spacetime physical seeing.

As we are the dreamed characters in the dream called waking life, we cannot know we are in a dream.
We can not wake up from it...This is already awake.
We are the dreamed and the dreamed cannot dream.

Can the characters in your nightly dream wake up in your dream?...No
The dream and dreamer are one.
The one dreams all.
AS The endless changing finite images appearing on the Infinite unchanging screen of wide awake awareness.

Paradoxically we can wake(become lucid) to the realization that we are not an assumed separate entity living in this waking life.
We are the awareness witnessing the fleeting images appearing and disappearing within Itself.

Reality is 90% mental ... the rest is 10% material which you see with your physical eyes.

[AntonioLao]

Dream is analogous to a 2D movie viewed privately, produced solely and directed exclusively by a single person during sleep.

[austintorn@aol.com]

(the actual dream con’t)

It was good flying weather. There was even a draft flowing up the slope of my backyard. Like kites, we gently lifted off and drifted down the long hill, floating, spread-eagled like flying squirrels, the ground falling away under us, as we, gravity’s children of the ski jump, were called home by Mother Earth; but, then, closing our fingers and thus making up for the lack of webs, we cupped the wind to rise even higher, hundreds of feet up, ultimately, into lofty and precarious flight. Devil-dared, we sailed without the usual four-limbed chuted canopies that most flyers wore, which, although they made for surer flight, often caused flat-on-the-face landings.

We real adventurers wore minimum chutes, or, as on days like today, none at all, and figured the updrafts from the contours and temperatures of the land, and every now and then, in apparent foolishness, compacted ourselves into swimmer’s cannonballs and plummeted for fifty feet or more before spreading and flaring on the cushion of full surfaced air. My consciousness, as a passenger, rode with me, for I had practiced dream awareness and control, and, so, an event that would be normally little more than a remembrance now became a living and conscious thing. I rose heavenward, alert and appreciative, a spectator mounted on Pegasus, riding the thermal drafts, and observing everything, like the all seeing eye atop the all-knowing pyramid, one looking both inward and outward.

I woke up for just a moment, but heavy sleep soon called upon me again, the bed gravity having at least quadrupled, and I sank, embraced, into that oblivion of dreams from which I’d confidently return. I dreamt of a small tropical island only a few feet wide, supported, it seemed, only by shimmering and sparkling diamonds in the pure blue sea. I was joined by my confidant, and from here we reigned over the social empire we’d created, one that stretched around the circular horizon like gleaming jewels: friends going about their bright business of living life, sparks amid the dullards, gems reflecting value and meaning. Farther out, the sea was a golden bronze, and there the spawning whales blew their spouts as they came up for air. We sat wordless, aligned and comfortable, letting the sights flood into us, filling us. There was no other purpose except to look.

[AntonioLao]

The Matrix Trilogy starring Keanu Reeves comes very close to representing what a complex state of dreams is about with its convoluted nested realities.