dreams and destiny
My first experience with death
I did not know of this event or the impact of this event until a few months ago. For years since my childhood (almost three decades) I used to wake up, sweating in the middle of the night, scared and perplexed. It was a dream. I thought it was a dream. I never told anyone about it. The dream always began when I was in my deepest sleep. Not surprisingly the dream was always dark, I mean low light, but in this black space a narrow bright beam of light shining down. Besides the white out area where the beam entered the space some adjacent area was pink. Picture yourself in a dark room, and a narrow beam of light shining on you illuminating only a little of the adjacent entry hole. In this space is a mushy velvety porous ball, a darker pink I think, and it is rolling. Slowly at first, and as it rolls the gradient begins to fall and velocity increases. I’ve always imagined this rolling ball was a metaphor for myself. And as velocity increased and the ball begins to fall into the black abyss, the light growing distant behind the ball, and my heart rate pounding. And when the ball finally loses all contact with any substrate and free falls I wake up. This dream was a regular feature of my childhood sleep, and teenage years till I turned twenty-two. I have not understood yet why the dream stopped, but it was coincident with my landing on a lone desolate beach, almost a no-mans land.
Since then I have believed it was some sort of calling that I had. A sort of inner peace that was achieved in those days, a revelation that I experienced that stopped the dream, while I lived on the beach. I do not believe in superstitions nor in fate. But I believe or at least think that fate and destiny are a subtle bit different. For one, I think fate has a slight negative connotation. Regardless of fate or destiny some thing about the Nicobar Islands and the Galathea Beach was connected to my dream and those islands changed my life and defined me.
In the past year that definition of myself was sticking but I was drifting, and I struggled to find myself again. One of those days some months ago I had a chat with my father when this dream was described. In a sense he thought I had lost it, and to my disappointment he gave a rational explanation of my dream. As a scientifically minded person my father’s rational explanation sits better with me than any of my suggestions of destiny.
My father had a congenital heart defect as a child. A defected that deprived him of the required blood pressure and consequently an efficient oxygen supply to his organs. He had been quite a handsome man in his youth despite this condition, but when he played sports he had to be careful. The defect in his heart was fixed shortly before his marriage to my mother. A period in his life that redefined him.
As an infant I had been born with congenital defect as well. Actually a couple of defects. There was an incomplete septum between my left and right cardiac ventricles, but this has been a common defect in human populations that very often is healed as the body grows. I was born with a cleft palate, i.e. the a part of the roof of my mouth was missing. Fortunately I did not have a cleft lip, a.k.a. a hare lip. People who know me have obviously heard my voice. It seems (I have completed my research on this subject) when the roof of the mouth is missing the way your voice resonates and emerges from your mouth is affected. The affect is mitigated by surgical intervention. But it may also be reasonable to assume that a defect of this sort is also associated with certain muscles and vocal chords developing inadequately or differently. Consequently I can not whistle either.
It was the surgery, my father, he explained from his experience, understanding and interpretation, that when general anesthesia is applied the mind tries to hold on to life and control of itself and the body. And as it loses control it seems like falling freely with light beaming down and an abyss engulfing the consciousness.
My nightmare explained finally, I am still left with an unexplained connection between the dream and the beach. In the years since I left the beach I have had this dream at most on three occasions. The most recent being when I was at the worst of drifting from my definition of myself (I think, or am I imagining this instance ?).
I did not know of this event or the impact of this event until a few months ago. For years since my childhood (almost three decades) I used to wake up, sweating in the middle of the night, scared and perplexed. It was a dream. I thought it was a dream. I never told anyone about it. The dream always began when I was in my deepest sleep. Not surprisingly the dream was always dark, I mean low light, but in this black space a narrow bright beam of light shining down. Besides the white out area where the beam entered the space some adjacent area was pink. Picture yourself in a dark room, and a narrow beam of light shining on you illuminating only a little of the adjacent entry hole. In this space is a mushy velvety porous ball, a darker pink I think, and it is rolling. Slowly at first, and as it rolls the gradient begins to fall and velocity increases. I’ve always imagined this rolling ball was a metaphor for myself. And as velocity increased and the ball begins to fall into the black abyss, the light growing distant behind the ball, and my heart rate pounding. And when the ball finally loses all contact with any substrate and free falls I wake up. This dream was a regular feature of my childhood sleep, and teenage years till I turned twenty-two. I have not understood yet why the dream stopped, but it was coincident with my landing on a lone desolate beach, almost a no-mans land.
Since then I have believed it was some sort of calling that I had. A sort of inner peace that was achieved in those days, a revelation that I experienced that stopped the dream, while I lived on the beach. I do not believe in superstitions nor in fate. But I believe or at least think that fate and destiny are a subtle bit different. For one, I think fate has a slight negative connotation. Regardless of fate or destiny some thing about the Nicobar Islands and the Galathea Beach was connected to my dream and those islands changed my life and defined me.
In the past year that definition of myself was sticking but I was drifting, and I struggled to find myself again. One of those days some months ago I had a chat with my father when this dream was described. In a sense he thought I had lost it, and to my disappointment he gave a rational explanation of my dream. As a scientifically minded person my father’s rational explanation sits better with me than any of my suggestions of destiny.
My father had a congenital heart defect as a child. A defected that deprived him of the required blood pressure and consequently an efficient oxygen supply to his organs. He had been quite a handsome man in his youth despite this condition, but when he played sports he had to be careful. The defect in his heart was fixed shortly before his marriage to my mother. A period in his life that redefined him.
As an infant I had been born with congenital defect as well. Actually a couple of defects. There was an incomplete septum between my left and right cardiac ventricles, but this has been a common defect in human populations that very often is healed as the body grows. I was born with a cleft palate, i.e. the a part of the roof of my mouth was missing. Fortunately I did not have a cleft lip, a.k.a. a hare lip. People who know me have obviously heard my voice. It seems (I have completed my research on this subject) when the roof of the mouth is missing the way your voice resonates and emerges from your mouth is affected. The affect is mitigated by surgical intervention. But it may also be reasonable to assume that a defect of this sort is also associated with certain muscles and vocal chords developing inadequately or differently. Consequently I can not whistle either.
It was the surgery, my father, he explained from his experience, understanding and interpretation, that when general anesthesia is applied the mind tries to hold on to life and control of itself and the body. And as it loses control it seems like falling freely with light beaming down and an abyss engulfing the consciousness.
My nightmare explained finally, I am still left with an unexplained connection between the dream and the beach. In the years since I left the beach I have had this dream at most on three occasions. The most recent being when I was at the worst of drifting from my definition of myself (I think, or am I imagining this instance ?).
posted by ceirius at 8:05 PM
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