Into the mystic

Tweet It's received wisdom that talking about your dreams is boring. Doug Martsch puts it well when he sings 'no one wants to hear what you dreamt about unless you dreamt about them'. I dream a lot and I used to tell people about my dreams a lot. But now I've come to recognise that dull mist that descends over people's faces when conversation switches to 'lads I dreamt I rode a unicorn wearing a Meath jersey into Tesco last night. Except get this, it wasn't really Tesco, it was my granny's house when I was young......' 'Really? That's eh, interesting. Wow, never knew it was that time already. See ye tomorrow.' That's the self-conscious caveats out of the way. I'm going to post about a dream I had today. Except it wasn't really a dream. It was sort of a vision, in that I knew I was dreaming, and it was as tangible as something that happened ten minutes ago; if not more so, because of the heightened sense of it all. It whacked me out and I still feel affected by it. I dreamt that I was climbing barefoot up the side of a sand dune for some time. There was a strong sea-borne wind coming up over its ridge. After a while, I found myself on top of the dune, looking over a small bay. A good friend of mine was sitting at the water's edge, gazing out to sea. I was delighted to see him and ran toward him. As I ran, the quality of everything around me changed, the air, the sky, the sea itself. The breeze dropped. The sun dropped too. But it didn't get dark. The air was perfectly still and infused with light; it illuminated itself. I could see this. Tiny motes of light in the still air. Soon I was sitting beside my friend and looking out to sea too. The sea was vast now. An ocean that stretched out to points beyond my understanding. I felt how I felt grappling with the notion of forever as a child. How can something go on for ever? What is beyond it? The ocean flashed gently and repetitively in coruscating golds, silvers and blacks. We sat in silence and after a fashion my friend said to me "you know we can always go here. It's always here. People can just go here on holiday." I asked him if he was dreaming too and he told me he was. We looked out to the ocean again and he said "everyone is in that sea you know. Everyone ever is under the water. Out there swimming away." At this point I was overwhelmed with the awareness of it all. Everyone was indeed out there. People born and people unborn, swimming at all depths beneath the lapping endlessness. I was shaking and laughing. Properly cracking up, like. I woke up exhausted, wonky and unreal, like Terence McKenna at the end of some sort of grade 5 DMT journey. I think I'm going to feel this way all day. MP3: Pan American-there can be no thought of finish Normal service resumes tomorrow.