Where There Were No Doors

Follow your bliss and doors will open where there were no doors before - Joseph Campbell

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

When sleep is exhausting

Last night I dreamt that the Coen Brothers were making a sequel to The Big Lebowski. I was pleased to hear this, as it is one of my favourite films. That I was to play the role of 'The Dude', however, made me a little nervous.

I was explaining my concern to James Joyce in a bar in Dublin. I told him that I hadn't done any acting since I was a child... I told him that it felt irresponsible for me to accept the role when there was such a big chance that I would let everyone down. He looked at me and said "irresponsibility is a vital part of the pleasure of all art. It's the part they can't teach you in school" (which is a bastardisation of a line often attributed to him). Then he lit a cigarette. I lit one too, as in the dream I was still drinking and smoking (and in the dream you could still smoke in a Dublin pub... or perhaps special dispensation was being made for James Joyce). And we sat drinking Guinness in a comfortable silent stillness for a surprisingly long time. Joyce didn't speak again, but when he got up to leave he smiled at me and ruffled my hair with a wonderful familiarity that left me feeling pleased.

The dream then became far less linear. It seemed as though Joyce's presence had been holding things together and with his departure, normality began to fragment. The walls of the pub began to undulate slightly and I could hear a terrific storm erupting outside. A crash of thunder shook the whole building and the pub landlord called out to me... "God knows where this will end up!"

Then I was alone in my room, sitting at my desk. It was late evening and the room was dimly lit. Everything had a thick layer of dust on it. I reached out instinctively to switch on the lamp, but nothing happened. "Bloody bulb!" I wiped my bong clean of dust and had a smoke. Then I picked up my mobile phone and couldn't seem to switch it on. A thought struck me... "all of this only makes sense if I'm dreaming".

First rule of lucidity... get a firm hold. In the dream I shouted "This is a dream! I'm in a dream!" Sometimes vocalising it can be near impossible... in which case, be aware that lucidity might slip away at any moment... sometimes vocalising it can wake you up (which is an arse, of the highest order). But often it just anchors your awareness to your situation. And from there... the world's your oyster.

Now, there's always the temptation to turn a lucid dream into an erotic one. Especially for single men of a certain age (say, between 14 and 97). And anyone who has realised it's possible but says they haven't done it, is a filthy liar. However, I happen to know that amazing sex is possible (albeit in short supply lately) outside of lucid dreams. Unlike - for instance - "doing a Superman" and flying at incredible speeds just a few feet above the ocean. And unlike flying deep into the heart of a violent thunderstorm screaming yourself hoarse. And very much unlike walking on the lunar surface without a space suit.

So is it any wonder I was exhausted when I awoke this morning?


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Great post Jim!

30/3/05 15:33  
Anonymous pixeldiva said...

So, was it good for you? ;)

31/3/05 01:27  
Blogger L said...

it isn't just the men who have these things, you know :)

31/3/05 04:42  
Anonymous morphess said...

look I'm not pimping my blog here, honest, but check out my 'to sleep perchance to bellow' post.
There's loads of us roaring in our sleep it seems. I keep thinking that we could all get together and natter away. Or may be not.
Great post.

31/3/05 23:18  

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