The Dream

Carl Jung said:
“The dream is a little hidden door in the innermost and most secret recesses of the soul, opening into that cosmic night which was psyche long before there was any ego consciousness, and which will remain psyche no matter how far our ego consciousness extends.”

This quote is quite the conundrum—however, I will attempt to distill it into little droplets of wisdom. Let’s peek our head into this ‘little door.’

When Jung refers to the "cosmic night," he's invoking the idea of a primordial, universal unconscious that predates our personal awareness and will, frankly, outlast it. This is a domain rich with symbols and archetypes that are common across cultures and time periods, indicating shared aspects of the human experience. It's a realm that was "psyche long before there was any ego consciousness," pointing to the idea that this deeper layer of our being is not a product of our individual experiences or societal conditioning, but rather something more fundamental to human existence.

The statement "and which will remain psyche no matter how far our ego consciousness extends" underscores the timeless, unchanging nature of this inner world. Despite the advancements in our understanding of ourselves and the expansion of our conscious awareness, the core essence of our psyche remains untouched. It suggests that no matter how much we learn or grow, there will always be aspects of ourselves that are mysterious, unknown, and connected to a larger, cosmic reality.

In essence, Jung’s quote invites us to consider dreams as precious opportunities to connect with the deeper, often hidden aspects of ourselves. It encourages an exploration of the unconscious mind, offering insights into our own psyche.

Of course, Carl Jung is not anyone to discount on the subject matter of dreams—heck, he dedicated himself to building a bridge to understanding them and has greatly influenced modern psychology, artists, philosophers, and inquisitive souls across the board to explore their subconscious mind. But more on Jung later—let’s take a historical lens to the mystery of dreams.

There is someone building their own bridge into the realm of the psyche, as we all should and have a God-given right to do. Under different circumstances than Jung, this person, in my opinion, is further proving the preeminence of the psyche Carl Jung hints to in adjunct with challenging the very story we have been told about our past. You may have seen him on Joe Rogan about a dozen times talking about ancient civilizations and challenging the narrative about our story by tirelessly and passionately investigating it for decades.

Graham Hancock, an author whose work has become a staple in my conversations, much to the amusement (and sometimes annoyance) of friends or family, has provided extensive research into ancient civilizations and has fascinated a global audience while angering mainstream archaeologists and historians who refuse to acknowledge the validity behind his findings. If you’ve paid close enough attention to his work then you know exactly what I am talking about as far as the backlash goes.

Graham’s bravery in persisting with his research and relaying an important message he received directly from the shamans in the Amazon relating to this topic will ring true to anyone who wishes to widen their understanding of who we are and what the past has to tell us. His thought-provoking TED talk, "The War on Consciousness," which was banned, was a pivotal moment for me personally. You can still find it on YouTube—I highly recommend you do so.

The fundamental message in this TED talk was the turning point that solidified a journey to Peru in 2019 with my boyfriend to experience Ayahuasca, a journey that was pivotal in my transformation and artistic expression. I would like to save this for another time as it goes into my personal story I would like to share in the near future.

This TED talk highlighted a very important message from the Amazon shamans who live to tell their ancestors’ stories—ultimately urging us to get our act together as a species. They believe that Ayahuasca is the remedy to this mass illness we are not sufficiently addressing.

Hancock's exploration sheds light on how our perception of dreams or dream states has shifted from ancient times to the present. He draws a compelling comparison between today's society and the ancient Egyptians, who held dreamers in high esteem, using the Blue Water Lily to enhance their dream journeys. In contrast, being called a "dreamer" in our modern era often carries a dismissive tone. Yet, the ancient Egyptians recognized the cryptic yet invaluable nature of dreams, a perspective that has endured through millennia.

Graham goes on to point out the hypocrisy of those who dismiss the fundamental value of visionary states while simultaneously glorifying other altered states of consciousness like booze, Adderall, and caffeine—making a very obvious but valid observation that these all conveniently power the consumerism and commerce machine, implying that this model is not sustainable. Acknowledging the difference in acceptable visionary states is worth noting because there is indeed a mass hypocrisy happening here.

Without delving into my many qualms with our current model that (as Graham states) is proven hollow—I’ll leave it there, at least for now.

Back to the Grandfather of the Psyche—Carl Jung knew that trying to better understand dreams and our subconscious mind in general was no joke. So he developed a method known as active imagination, a meditative technique that encourages individuals to engage with the symbols and figures that appear in their dreams and fantasies. By consciously exploring these images and allowing them to unfold, individuals can dialogue with their unconscious, leading to insights that foster psychological growth and transformation.

It is almost like a game that relinquishes some level of control and allows space for the imagination to serve as a guide. When practiced, you will begin to notice in some cases a motif—patterns or synchronicities within these dreams or even in the so-called ‘real world.’ Accessing this little door as Jung puts it is not just subject to a deep slumber in evening hours. When properly employed, active imagination in a meditative state will change the way you operate, how you interact with people, and the world around you. When you allow your subconscious mind to show you what's really possible, it’s as if you’re finally letting go of a rope that has been pulling you away from a deeper meaning and purpose to life.

So much of this we cannot put into words; however, that is exactly why I, for one, create visual art. Heck, it’s the reason we need meditative and visualization practices to get a glimpse into a realm that is not governed by anything familiar. The point is to consciously make the decision to visualize, sit or lie with your imagination, and find the hidden whispers that ring true to you, the areas in which healing needs to be done, and most importantly, communicate with the highest creator so that you may co-create a world mirroring Heaven on Earth.

Some may choose to take the route of meditation, practicing lucid dreaming, psychedelics, or breathwork. However the dream is accessed, it is inevitable that with the intention of aiming toward your highest potential for the betterment of our world, something will show you what needs to be done.

The dream can be thought of as a fluid, formless yet unchanging field that harbors memory, the future, all that is possible, entropy. The dream is no less than significant; it is the everlasting. It is an organized mess, and it observes you even if you don’t believe in it. The dream is your companion, following you into your slumber, hopeful that you will volunteer for the madness and come out the other side a master of the odds—yourself.

To finish off, I would like to share an original poem. It was inspired by the feeling I am often left with after a visionary state. It could be seen or used as a prayer, and I offer it as a gift for inspiration—an anchor to the unseen realm we are all secretly enchanted by.

The Great Will

Let the transfiguration of impermanence not impede on my will; the Great Will.
Let choice of the infinite gather in my palm, so that my brothers and sisters can too claim their sovereignty.
Let fear and angst fuse into an alchemized road, iridescent in its cracks, now stabilized into a road of redemption.
Let fathers and mothers reclaim their innocence within the storm of their past—reawakened in the eye of the hurricane.
Let the children speak, levitating their highest potential into the ether of possibility and corresponding future self.

Let the Great Will hold our ego while our stains are scrubbed.

Let men become one with compassion and integrity in the midst of their submersion into the deep of silence.
Let women create and multiply, navigating through the fractal of space-time and the sharpness of noise.
Let the painter be heard, and the writer dance, let the dancer be remembered, and the philosopher be fed.
Let all sufferings travel through the wormhole with intent to transcend what is behind them.
Let the Great Will reconfigure our dilemma into a beautiful symphony, forever ringing through the listening ear.

Terence McKenna once said:

"Nature loves courage. You make the commitment and nature will respond to that commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is the trick. This is what all these teachers and philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, this is what they understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering it's a feather bed."