A palindrome of life and death
A painting of my dreamscape
The butterfly dream
I dream the sleep that sleeps in me. The lie lies still. Awake within.
Who dreams this dream?
Within a wake. Still lies the lie. The sleep that sleeps in me dreams I.
I’ve been fixated on my dreams for the last few months. It’s a new thing for me, a shift from me being afraid to going to bed, to me looking forward to exploring my dreamscape. Since March, I’ve cataloged my dreams every night I have them. It’s incredible what the subconscious reveals. I’ve not found answers, per se, but better questions.
My dreams have flowed, interconnected yet unique, in a narrative arc mirroring my physical one. Sometimes, I wonder if it isn’t the other way around. The casualty gets slippery.
I have much more to share on this topic, but I wanted to start by sharing some resources so you could join me in dreamland.
“Once upon a time, I, Zhuang Zhou, dreamt I was a butterfly... fluttering hither and thither... Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man” - Zhuangzi
