You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Jung’ category.

Levels of Lucidity: A Close Reading © Matthew Thomas. Illustrations by Riko Kusuhara

Author’s Note: This paper was first presented at the International Association for the Study of Dreams (IASD) PsiberDreaming Conference 2018. Special thanks go to my illustrator Ms. Riko Kusahara, with deep appreciation.

=====

The difference between most people and myself is that for me the “dividing walls” are transparent. That is my peculiarity.

Carl Jung

The conventional scientific sentiment has become that—while we don’t totally understand why dreaming happens—the dreams themselves are meaningless. They’re images and sounds we unconsciously collect, almost at random {…} Which seems like a potentially massive misjudgement.

Chuck Klosterman

I: I awake in a warehouse. The bed is against one wall–on the other is a thirty-foot mountain of cantaloupes. I realize I am dreaming. I get up and run my hands over the cantaloupes. They feel absolutely real—as tangible as in life. I remember that tangibility is not a viable reality test— I’ve made that mistake before. Now fully lucid, I decide to levitate. The room dissolves, and I float suspended in dense, colourless space. Eventually, I feel the need to come back to earth but cannot locate it. I feel something beneath me. This is my bed, and I awake back in the warehouse, relieved yet exhilarated. The cantaloupes are still there, however I don’t question them. I just happen to live in a room full of fruit. Moments later I awake again, this time in diurnal “reality.”

The most common dream experience is of waking from a dream we take to be real, only to understand that it was “just a dream.” However, a subset of dreamers, probably more than we generally imagine, have experienced lucid dreams, dreams in which, to some degree, they are aware they are dreaming. Lucid dreamers may also experience “false awakenings” (1)— the sensation of waking progressively through dream “levels.” False awakenings can be disorienting {Robert Waggoner writes that after seven successive false awakenings he “would accept … any reality … as long as it stayed put” (2)}, or sought after {Daniel Love and Keith Hearne have independently developed techniques to induce false awakenings (3)}. Regardless of the desirability of the experience, the existence of dream levels, far from a simple oddity, provides a potential window into massive metaphysical questions.

First, we need to understand how dreamers use evidence to establish whether they are dreaming or awake.

II: I am in a dreaming contest with another dreamer. The contest begins and slimy amphibians begin to appear. Some resemble frogs; others are in shapes that don’t exist in nature. Their size varies from that of a pinky to that of a fist. All are very colourful. I am not trying to dream them, rather they are spilling everywhere around my feet. I sense this is a dream, and check on the other dreamer. He is standing to my right in empty space, yet to begin his dream.

This dream is non-lucid at first and becomes lucid because of the bright color and absurd number of the amphibians. An awareness beyond the dream senses a non-natural situation.

III: I am picking out fruit at a fruit stand. There are some huge avocados, almost too good looking. I wonder if I am in a dream, and touch an avocado to check. The one I choose is ripe and soft—I squeeze it a little. There is no doubt that I am having a tactile experience, and I conclude I am not dreaming. Of course, I am.

Two dreams, two types of evidence. In Dream II, I correctly identify the amphibians as anomalous, and become lucid. In Dream III, my attempt to test the lifelikeness of the avocado as an indicator fails. Simply put, realistic sensation is not sufficiently indicative of reality. Love agrees: “we are not looking for a qualitative difference in how realistic the experience feels {…} we are {…} on the lookout for issues with stability and plausibility” (4). In Dream I, at first the huge pile of melons in my bedroom appears implausible and triggers lucidity; after moving up a dream level, my mind overrides the implausibility and “justifies” (5) the anomaly.

Because we awake from sleep and dreams every morning, we are very familiar with the experience of awakening. It is therefore unsurprising that when we wake inside a dream we accept the new reality as the waking world, even if it contains anomalous elements.

IV: I am in a huge house where a large group of families on motorcycles arrive. The families are making noise all night. I realize I am dreaming and levitate to where the families are. Later I decide to wake up. I ease myself out of bed, bumping my nose into an ironing board. The room looks and feels exactly like my room. I don’t recall the ironing board being there, but whatever. Moments later I awake again—the scene is identical, only, the ironing board is gone. I feel a pit in my stomach, wondering what is ultimately real.

Dream IV is a good example of how dream levels can become increasingly realistic level by level. An ironing board in front of the bed is (for me) more plausible than a house full of bikers. Dreams such as this beg the question of how we can ever be sure we are awake. I have dreamt of getting up, walking to the front door, opening it, and emerging into the sunshine in my neighbourhood. At every point, this dream felt entirely realistic with no anomalies. After experiences like this, is it wholly unrealistic that we could dream an entire morning? An entire day?(6)

There are different ways to approach this kind of question. The first is to use rigorous reality tests (7). Using reality tests after each fresh awakening can help us filter anomalies in what may be an increasingly realistic dream state. The second is to open ourselves to a wider set of questions. Although space limitations make full exploration of these questions impossible, modern dreamers would do well to recall that throughout recorded history people have speculated on the meaning of the dream state and what it can tell us about space, time, life after death, and the nature of reality.

As dreamers, we know that dreamtime behaves very differently than waking time. Robert Moss distinguishes between Chronos (“linear time”) and Kairos (the “spacious now”). He writes that when Kairos operates in waking life, “ordinary time is {…} suspended or elastic,” and the world can “quiver or shimmer” (8). Moss’ Kairos time sounds a great deal like dreamtime.

Jung in his memoir writes “our concepts of space and time have only approximate validity,” (9) and “there are indications that at least a part of the psyche is not subject to the laws of space and time” (10). Jung makes multiple connections between dreams and life after death, suggesting that our waking world, in which we are “conscious,” may in fact be a projection of a more “real” and permanent, even timeless, unconscious (11).

In the Tibetan tradition of dream yoga, the yogi prepares for death through dreams and meditation, entering death consciously by releasing bodily energy in such a way that the body partially or entirely dissolves into pure light. This “rainbow body” is well documented in Tibet and China, and cases of this phenomenon have been reported across multiple religious traditions (12). Finally, Moss connects dreams with the much discussed Many Worlds theory, as does, in popular culture, Richard Linklater (13).

V: I am among a large group of people on the top floor of a building. We lie down on our backs and form bundles. As the molecular structure of these bundles dissolves we become lighter, then totally empty. This process is dictated by a power outside of us which doesn’t speak. Once empty, we have the choice to become anything we want. I choose to become white light. Suddenly I am transported through space in a burst of pure white light, my old body left entirely behind. This is the most peaceful and thrilling feeling in the world. Then, I am back into a new bundle, trying again to become empty. I make progress, but it is hard and I am over-concentrating. Progress ceases; I wake up.

Although I have thought at length about dreams, I am a normal person, with a normal job, dreaming anonymously night after night. I do not belong to a spiritual tradition, am not a yogi or a meditating hermit. As a lucid dreamer, like many of us, I am self-taught. While we anonymous dreamers are wise to suspend judgement about the particularities of a theory as mind-boggling as dreams as an interface to infinite parallel universes, it is perhaps not by chance that my dreams of ascending to a state of pure white light bear close resemblance to innumerable near-death experiences or the reported manifestations of a lifetime of dream yoga. Although admittedly outside of our normal rational mode of apprehension, the experience of journeying through multiple dream levels, and the energy and amazement which often accompany these experiences, may point toward worlds far above, below, or beyond our own.

Who are we in our trek through life? Are we the maker, or the made? The writer, or the page? The actor, or the stage? The happening, or the happened to? Perhaps our ability to exercise agency in the vastness of forever depends in part on learning to navigate levels of “reality,” however we encounter them. Or perhaps, journeying to the far side of the dream can bring us face to face with that which is actually dreaming us.

Citations:

1 Waggoner, 61

2 Ibid., 63

3 Love, 131

4 Love, 71

5 Love cites “poor reasoning skills” as one common reason for failing to recognize dream signs and achieve lucidity. Love, 73.

6 Cf. Klosterman, 141

7 Love, 78-79; Waggoner, 259. (Wagonner uses the term “reality check” instead of “reality test.”)

8 Moss, 49

9 Jung, 300

10 ibid., 304

11 ibid., 324

12 Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche, 314; Gyalwai Nyugu Rinpoche

13 Moss, 74-74; Linklater

Bibliography:

Jung, Carl. Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Vintage Books, 1989.

Klosterman, Chuck. But What If We’re Wrong? Blue Rider Press. 2016.

Linklater, Richard, director. Slacker. Orion Classics, 1990.

Love, Daniel. Are you Dreaming? Enchanted Loom Publishing, 2013.

Moss, Robert. Sidewalk Oracles. New World Library, 2015.

Rinpoche, Gyalwai Nyugu. “About Rainbow Body.” http://www.gyalwai-nyugu.com/about- rainbow-body/. Accessed 24 July 2018.

Rinpoche, Tenzin Wangyal. The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep. Snow Lion Publications, 1998.

Thomas, Matthew. “On Coming Through”: A New Meditation on Intention. https://craftfollowsconcept.com/2013/05/13/on-coming-through-statement-of-intent-on-the- approach-of-my-39th-birthday/#more-11. Accessed 24 July 2018.

Waggoner, Robert. Lucid Dreaming. Moment Point Press, 2009.

IASD PsiberDreaming Conference 2018 Matthew Thomas: Levels of Lucidity: A Close Reading

15683455_b1fc405d34Matthew Thomas, Kyoto

This post was originally published at jungianintimations.wordpress.com.

Volume I of Jung’s Collected Works is titled Psychiatric Studies, and begins with his dissertation, “On the Psychology and Pathology of the So-Called Occult Phenomena.”  The editor’s preface to Volume I characterizes the dissertation as reflecting “simple descriptive research,” while acknowledging that many of Jung’s later concerns are foreshadowed herein (vi). In our posts on Volume I we shall attempt to draw out some of these foreshadowings, while also taking seriously this most “scientific” of the phases of Jung’s career and work.

It is of course highly significant that occult phenomena signify in Jung’s first major published work, as Jung’s reputation, for better or worse, is to this day closely linked with the occult, mysticism, astrology, post-material synchronicity, and the unconscious archetype. That Jung refers to “the so-called occult phenomena” here is suggestive, on its face, of at least some measure of empirical leaning in the young Jung.  As we shall see in later posts, Jung waged a decades-long internal battle to preserve his belief in himself as a man of science, rather than an artist, and the question of whether he was primarily a scientist or an artist would play a significant role in his mid-life crisis which set in during the decade of the 1910s.  It is interesting to note here that Freud also held fast to the label of “scientist,” even as critics such as Roger Brown have suggested that he surrendered all claims to the title as early as 1896 (Storr, 24).

It is well known that Jung’s early years were suffused with religion and spiritualism, with several members on both sides of his extended family being parsons (MDR 42), and from his earliest writings, however much he clung to the idea of himself as an empiricist (understood in its more typically narrow sense), Jung’s interest in the faint intimations of the “other world,” in the liminal zone between normal experience and those experiences or states which stray over the borderline of normal consciousness and everyday apprehension and into the dark underbelly of the unconscious, betrays the awestruck and bemused metaphysical wanderer who at seven would sit on a stone and wonder “Am I the one who is sitting on the stone, or am I the stone on which he is sitting?” (MDR, 20).

“Liminality” is defined nicely by Wikipedia as “a psychological, neurological, or metaphysical subjective state, conscious or unconscious, of being on the ‘threshold’ of or between two different existential planes” (Wikipedia, “Liminality,) and from the first paragraph of “On the Psychology and Pathology of the So-Called Occult Phenomena,” we can see Jung’s interest in liminality at play:

“In that wide domain of psychopathic inferiority from which science has marked off the clinical pictures of epilepsy, hysteria, and neurasthenia, we find scattered observations on certain rare states of consciousness as to whose meaning the authors are not yet agreed.  These observations crop us sporadically in the literature on narcolepsy, lethargy, automatisme, ambulatoire, periodic amnesia, double consciousness, somnambulism, pathological dreaminess, pathological lying, etc.” (Collected Works Vol. I, 3).

The author makes no claims to being a psychologist or to having any detailed empirical knowledge of the difference between automatisme and somnambulism, but briefly, for the sake of clarity, epilepsy refers to an overly active electrical circuit in the brain which causes seizures, neurasthenia is an outdated term that referred to deep exhaustion, what Jung and Freud referred to as hysteria we would more probably call neurosis, narcolepsy is a threshold state between sleep and waking which may include hallucinations,  automatisme, ambulatoire , and somnambulism, as far as I can make out, all refer to sleepwalking or other actions taking while one is technically asleep. Read the rest of this entry »

maj01Matthew Thomas, Kyoto

Note: This post originally published at jungianintimations.wordpress.com, and introduces our serial investigation of the works of Carl Jung.

I

Toward the end of his life on earth, Carl Jung worked with Aniela Jaffe on a semi-autobiography titled, in English, “Memories, Dreams, Reflections” (MDR).  While the exact nature of the origins of the text continues to be a matter of controversy (Shamdasani, 22-38), this work is, by any standard, one of the most remarkable works of self-reflection on record.  As Jung’s work has seduced me, once more, into an extended contemplation of telos as a universal governing principle, and forced me to ask hitherto avoided questions about the nature and possibility of free will, it is only appropriate that we begin with the end, namely the second to last page of MDR, written when Jung was in his mid-80’s.

Looking back over the course of his life, Jung writes/ dictates as follows:
“A creative person has little power over his own life.  He is not free.  He is captive and driven by his own daimon.  ‘Shamefully, a power wrests away the heart from us,/ For the Heavenly Ones each demand sacrifice;/ But if it should be withheld/ Never has that led to good,’ says Holderlin.  This lack of freedom has been a great sorrow to me.  Often I felt as if I were on a battlefield, saying, ‘Now you have fallen, my good comrade, but I must go on.’  For ‘shamefully a power wrests the heart from us.’  I am fond of you, indeed I love you, but I cannot stay.  There is something heart-rending about that.  And I myself am the victim; I cannot stay.  But the daimon manages things so that one comes through, and blessed inconsistency sees to it that in flagrant contrast to my ‘disloyalty’ I can keep faith in unsuspected measure” (MDR, 357).

Here, Jung’s daimon is also his muse, a fickle yet demanding goddess, possessed of little mercy.  Here too we see Jung playing with telos, and also recognizing that creative work never comes without a price.  And yet, Jung is not railing against his fate–while apparent disloyalty, inconstancy, faithlessness, restlessness, and driven arrogance may have plagued his personal relationships, Jung hove true to his inner compass in a manner and to a degree which would have permanently flung most mortals far the other side of sanity, fellowship, and comprehensibility.  When Jung writes that “I can keep faith in unsuspected measure” he is referencing the overarching centrality of intuition as a guide to his life’s work, and building on forty years of reflection on the central orienting elements of personality.  The relentlessness and courage of his six decades of work, even as he came increasingly to fear for the reception of his ideas (pace Answer to Job), attests to his faith, and to his  larger constancy, even as from a smaller bore perspective his alleged lack of intellectual coherence and questionable allegiance to science as commonly understood has led lesser minds to accuse Jung of prophecy, shamanism, and outright oddness (cf Shamdasani, 83).  In order to counteract such limited understandings of Jung, understandings based almost certainly on shallow or incomplete readings of the Collected Works, it behooves us to take an extended look at the textual evidence.  This textual evidence, as we shall see, while voluminous, circular, and even repetitive, signifies in the final judgment nothing short of the most remarkable, daring, and far-reaching bodies of work to issue forth from a single human intelligence since Augustine.  It is our pleasure to place ourselves in the service of this intelligence, to reflect, if even in the smallest way, a sliver of the numinous with which Jung wrestled throughout his life, as Job wrestled with his angel.

===== =====

II

One who has no god, as he walks along the street/ Headache envelops him like a garment.

(Cuneiform tablet, late 2nd millennium B.C.  Cited in Jaynes, 225)

An idea is something you have.  An ideology is something that has you.

Morris Breman

It is well known that older people tend toward one of two poles in their attitude toward certainty, and that the degree of apparent confidence with which those in the second half of life hold forth on subjects to which they claim authority or expertise is directly related to the degree to which they suffer from an inflated, runaway, usurping ego.  On the one hand the dogmatists, those in whom opinion has ossified into ideology, whose “conversation” is always monologue ascendant.  On the other hand, those at least somewhat mellowed by time, those who have come face to face with their own limitations, whose ego has been able to absorb the blows apportioned by father time, and to grin in the face of impotence (cf Slater, 115).

There are certain professions, however, where egocentricity in the form of professed certainty is positively rewarded, where the fawning of acolytes, the plaudits of the mass media, and the material rewards issued forth from committees and councils depend in large part on stating and holding a single position, and defending such position against all comers.  The expert industry is ever at work, animated by the simple fact that very few people actually have any real idea of what they should be doing, of what the “truth” is in a given situation, or, least of all, on what basis to make a decision. Read the rest of this entry »

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 32 other followers

The Depth of Now

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

annamosca

Poetic Landscapes Of The Spirit

Gareth Roberts

Unorthodox Marketing & Strategy

AC SPEAKS

YOU REGRET THE THINGS YOU DON’T SAY.

The life of a dreamer.

"She believed she could, so she did." 🌙

My Spirals

• Hugs and Infinities

Culture Shocks

Musings on a variety of subjects while embracing new towns

Go Dog Go Café

Where writers gather

byluis7

« me arrodillo por las noches ante tigres que no me dejarán ser - lo que fuiste no será otra vez - los tigres me han encontrado pero no me importa. »

MakeItUltra™ Psychology

Psychology to Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Megha's World

A potpourri of emotions

hello, fig

ben stainton posts things using a computer

simple Ula

I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?

The World Through My Glasses

Travel Photography Food

Pointless Overthinking

Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.

inexhaustible invitations

notes on life and literature