by Mike Rhynard
When she finished the abstract, she decided to read the entire study. It looked like a good starting point because it focused on what she saw as the gaping flaw of clinical psychology, at least where stress-coping strategies were concerned: an explosion of interest met by a paucity of scientific data and results, which ultimately encouraged the egocentrism she harbored so much contempt for.
As she started reserving the paper on the computer, a lingering fragment of some random thought drew her back to the abstract. She glanced down the page, hoping to find the word that had incubated the thought, stopped on historical. That’s it . . . but why’d I do that? She stared at it for a moment. Historical . . . historical. Her mind floated for a moment before settling on last night’s dream. She felt a sudden chill as an image of the dead man wafted through her mind like a ghost slipping through a keyhole: bloody, crushed head, arrows, dead on the beach; she felt a twinge of nausea. Where, when . . . why me? She stared at the computer screen for several minutes, conscious of nothing, seeing nothing, mind spinning like the ceiling fan. Why those people, four times? Can’t dream things four times. She saw the young girl, the young man, the older man . . . talking, thinking, feeling . . . smell and taste; yes, she’d smelled the smoke, tasted that awful dried meat they ate— terrible stuff—felt the humidity . . . same story, same people, but like a new chapter each time. And the story keeps going when I’m awake, like a movie when you go out for popcorn. What’s happening to me?
She threw her notepad across the room like a Frisbee then stood and walked to the bookshelf. After scanning the titles, she removed a book, opened it to the table of contents, and ran her finger down the list of chapters. Nope. She put it back, withdrew another, same result, then another. “Yes!” She opened it to the chapter entitled “Dreams.” Haven’t looked at this one since freshman year. She walked to the desk, sat, opened the book, started reading in the middle of a paragraph.
First, we don’t usually ask for dreams to happen; they do so on their own during specific sleep periods. And when they occur, they include feelings, emotions, landscapes, people, strange images, and more—some bizarre and some almost orderly. Though dreams have been with us since mankind’s beginning, relatively little is known for certain about why they happen and what they mean. Indeed, throughout history, dreams have never failed to stimulate great curiosity, conjecture as to their meaning and interpretation, and sometimes even dire reactions.
She opened a new Word file, read and typed for a half hour, then sat back, closed her eyes—saw the dead man lying in the sand, bloodied, motionless, alone. Her eyes flicked open; she shook her head to exorcise the vision then quickly refocused on the notes.
My paraphrased comments
-Dream during rapid-eye-movement (REM) sleep
-Periods—10 minutes to 1 hour
-Remember more if wake during REM
-Alternate between Non-REM (NREM) sleep and REM sleep
-Fall asleep—descend through 4 stages of NREM sleep
-After an hour, back up through 4 NREM stages
-1st REM sleep after 90 minutes, short dream period
-Back down through NREM, stay awhile, back up to REM, dream and repeat cycle—each REM period longer
-4 or 5 REMs per night, sleep 8 hours, dream 2 hours
-Things that happen when dreaming—brain activity picks up, heartbeat and breathing become erratic, muscles tend to change tone, and genitals experience a surge in blood flow, which prompts enlargement.
She thought about Erik for a second. Focus, Allie. Hmm, wonder how you remember stuff from an early REM when you can’t even remember the last REM very long? She snickered. But I remember all the REMs and for as long as anything I remember in real life. She snickered again. Now I can’t forget my dreams. Keep coming back—people sitting on the beach in the fog, yelling at each other, finding the dead men, building the fort, houses, conversations, Indians, crabbing . . . crabbing . . . killing . . . feelings. The nausea hit her again like a shock from a cattle prod. His head, arrows . . . my God.
She looked back at the notes.
-Dreams—connected to the unconscious
-Normal & ordinary, also surreal & bizarre
Hmm . . . surreal and bizarre. She shook her head. Not mine.
-Scary, exciting, mystical, depressing, adventurous, sexual
Scary, yes . . . more like terrifying . . . adventurous too, but not sexual, at least not yet.
-Content beyond dreamer control, except for “lucid” dreaming, when dreamer aware of dream while dreaming
I’ve had those. Knew I was dreaming, told the dream what I wanted to see, and it happened. Keep moving, Allie.
-History - Freud—dreams represent unconscious desires, thoughts, and stimulations
-Thought repressed feelings and instincts manifested themselves in dreams
No way. No repression here. I’ve never even thought about the stuff in these dreams. But they started right after the fight with Erik. Maybe I want him more than I know, and I’ve repressed it, and it somehow shows itself in the dreams. She pondered the possibility for a moment. Nah! Too big a stretch. I’m dreaming some kind of random history, nothing to do with Erik . . . hate history . . . boring . . . but the dreams aren’t boring. Maybe the fight was a trigger, started the whole thing off. Think about that. Am I suppressing history because it bores me? If so, why this history? And how the hell can I suppress something I’ve never seen or heard of before?
Allie typed dreams into the search box of the library website, scanned the list—too many to count. She printed it out, headed for the library.
A half hour later, Allie pulled Dreamlife by Rufus Goodwin from the shelf and read that in the 19th and 20th centuries, Freud had not had the means to scientifically verify his theories as could be done today. Thus, though some still subscribed to his theories, they remained only theories and had been largely superseded by more modern concepts. One such modern theorist was a prominent scientist named Allan Hobson, a Harvard professor of psychiatry and director of the Laboratory of Neurophysiology at the Massachusetts Mental Health Center. Nice credentials, she thought. She found Hobson’s book, The Dreaming Brain, on her list, marked it for a full read. Oughta be good. She then read Goodwin’s summary of Hobson’s views on her laptop and logged her interpretation of them in her notes.
- Hobson
oLots of stimuli when awake—make “brain-mind” outwardly focused
oScant stimuli when dreaming—“brain-mind” inwardly focused, but with similar level of activity
Wow! Didn’t know that.
oDreams not from mysterious sources—but from auto-actuation of brain in REM sleep
So the mind, or the brain-mind as he calls it, is just as active when you’re dreaming as it is when you’re awake, but it looks outward when you’re awake and inward when you’re asleep. Interesting. And he says dreams don’t come from a bunch of external stimuli, but from somewhere inside . . . inside the brain-mind, whatever it is. Of itself, this doesn’t seem to preclude Freud’s sexual repression theory, but I take Goodwin’s tone as suggesting that Freud isn’t very credible anymore. Lots more to learn here.
-Goodwin says,“. . . summation of two hundred years of advances in physiology, neurophysiology, and psychology”
Physiology and neurophysiology. Now there’s my science. Physiology of the body and the nervous system. And it’s in the same breath as psychology. Love it!
-Goodwin says we measure dream activity with:
oPolygraphs—breathing rate, pulse, blood pressure, perspiration
oElectroencephalograms—brain activity
oElectrocardiograms—heart activity
oElectromyograms—muscle electrical stimulation
oElectroretinograms—electrical activity in nerve cells at the back of the retina—gateway to the brain
oElectrooculograms—potential that exists between the cornea and Bruch’s membrane at the back of the eye
“That about covers it. Neat
stuff . . . exactly what I want to do. With all that hardware you’d think they could nail it all down. But they’d have to correlate the readings with the dream events, and that’s the fresh cow pie you just stepped in, Allie: people can’t remember the details of their dreams very well, and what they do remember is fleeting. So they can’t do a very good job of correlating dream events with the data.” Allie felt like she was being watched, looked up, saw three people staring at her. She smiled abashedly at them as she realized she’d been talking out loud. “Sorry. Got a little excited.” She resumed reading and summarizing.
-Freud—“experiences” are the roots of our dreams
But how could my dreams come from experiences? They have nothing to do with me or my experiences. Maybe someone else’s? Hmm. She added whose experiences? to her notes then read on.
-Bulkeley (other author referenced by Goodwin)—just because contemporary science can’t conceive of something doesn’t mean dreams can’t do so
Now that’s a powerful statement. Don’t limit your thinking just because the science isn’t here yet. Right on.
-“Other-dimension” dreams are a good example—dreams of unimaginable:
o“Worlds”
o“Strange and beautiful” things
Wow. That’s me. Weird stuff out of nowhere.
-Hard to refute due to “other dimension” dreams by credible people throughout history
oSt. Jerome
oAldous Huxley
oSocrates
No kidding! At least I’m in good company. Better check Bulkeley out. She retrieved and opened An Introduction to the Psychology of Dreaming by Kelly Bulkeley; skimmed the first two chapters, the second of which was on Freud; then opened to chapter three, entitled “ C.G. Jung Descends into the Collective Unconscious,” and read that Bulkeley considered Freud and Jung the predominant dream theorists of the twentieth century. But, Allie noted, predominant doesn’t mean right. She also noted that Freud and Jung had been friends but eventually suffered a theoretical split. She interpreted Bulkeley’s description of their theoretical divergence to be that Jung believed dreams were an open presentation of the dreamer’s inner self, while Freud believed dreams had hidden meanings to the extent that dreams differ from the material that stimulates them. However, Allie observed, they agreed that a dreamer’s past has a lot to do with what he dreams. Experiences again, she thought, but that’s definitely not me. She further paraphrased that:
-Jung believed that while dreams reveal stimuli from the dreamer’s unconscious, they also present material that exceeds the bounds of the dreamer’s own experiences.
Wow! Here we go!
-There’s more than an individual’s personal history (which is contained in their “personal unconscious”).
-There’s also a “collective unconscious” that ties us all to the entire development of humankind from the beginning of its existence.
-“Memories and experiences” are the instruments of connection to the personal and collective unconscious.
Now that’s cool! She reread the second entry: ties us all to the entire development of humankind from the beginning of its existence. History again . . . personal and collective unconscious . . . memories and experiences . . . says we can connect to the history of our ancestors. What does that mean? She wrote, Jung—learn more, understand, important.
-Dreams try to be candid and truthful.
-Try to accurately interpret the background material and present it forthrightly
-The driving force of dreams often comes from somewhere beyond the dreamer’s own life and experiences.
Sounds like the collective unconscious again. She closed her eyes, contemplated what she’d read. So he’s theorizing that maybe one person’s psyche, or personal unconscious, connects with other people’s unconsciouses, somewhere beyond the bounds of the person’s own memories and experiences, a.k.a. the collective unconscious. So when I’m dreaming in REM sleep, my unconscious connects to the collective unconscious and pulls thoughts or experiences from it into my personal unconscious, where I dream about them in some kind of format. But which thoughts does it pull in? And why those particular thoughts? How does it choose? And how does my personal unconscious know where to look in the collective unconscious? Wow. This is fun. I could think about it all day, and the best part is nobody really knows the answers for sure—all theory, wide open.
As Allie flipped to another page, her cell phone vibrated on the tabletop. It was her advisor; she had an unexpected opening; could Allie be there at 5:00 p.m. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there. Thanks for working me in, and again, I apologize for missing this morning.” Great! What am I gonna show her? This oughta be good.
On the way to her meeting, Allie’s mind wasn’t on her dissertation. It was on the list of dream definitions she’d interpreted, paraphrased, and summarized from Goodwin’s book before leaving the library. She memorized it as she walked, wondering how she might use it to persuade her advisor to introduce her to a faculty member who knew something about dreams. She glanced at her watch—plenty of time—then sat down on the grass under a shady cottonwood tree. Nice grass, like that girl in the dreams sat on . . . she’s sure pretty . . . see her in my mind. She unfolded the notes, read down the column, penning parenthetical comments as she went.
-“Image” = how clear the dream images are (very)
-“Scenario” = plot (well defined)
-“Features” = characteristics (very real)
-“Intensity” = strength of dreamer’s evoked feelings (strong, like real life)
-Vividness = sharpness, brightness, amount of color, detail (all very real)
-“Places” = where it happens (real or movielike)
-“Persons” = who’s in the dream (all unknown; but remember faces, what they said and thought, have smell & taste)
-“Dialogue” = script (understand languages I don’t know, full paragraphs, remember most)
-“Lucid” = dreamer knows they’re dreaming (had these before)—proven (not sure if current dreams are lucid)
-“Mutual” (“Lucid Dreaming,” by Waggoner) = dream experienced by multiple people (scientifically proven)
-“Dreamlight” =amount of light or brightness (like real life)
-“Dreamtime” = pace of a dream (normal when dreaming, quicker time between dreams)
-“Frequency” = how often dreams occur (multiple REMs, over days—so far)
-Several types of dreams
o“Somatic” = related to the body = brought on by sleeping on arm or too hot (no)
o“Sensory” = stimulated by senses picking up external events (no)
o“Synchronicity” = coincidental with some occurrence in the external world (no, at least not a current event)
o“Revelatory” or “prophetic” = reveal something or foresee something (History?? Maybe)
Damn, these are good, should make sense to an expert . . . better type in my comments when I get home. She stood, proceeded toward the psychology building at a brisk pace fueled by her new knowledge and the fact that someone, somewhere had thought about dreams and might be able to understand what was going on in her head . . . her brain-mind as Hobson called it.
Fifteen minutes later, Allie’s quick mind and articulate tongue convinced her advisor that she had an excellent start on her topic and knew precisely what to do to mature and congeal it into an exceptional research project, one with the potential to make not only a sound material contribution but also a big splash that could lead to an excellent starting position there or at some other prestigious university. The advisor’s excitement had a contagious effect on Allie, and when she walked out the door, she was virtually skipping on air, ready to take a casual stroll across the campus lake. The only non-euphoric moment had come when Allie told her advisor she wanted to incorporate a stress-related dreaming connection, with therapeutic potential, and wondered if the advisor could hook her up with whoever the most knowledgeable dream expert in the department was. She had c
leverly woven several of her newly learned definitions into what she thought was an intriguing, plausible theory on how to use dream therapy to relieve stress, but her hopes plummeted when the advisor immediately frowned. However, after contemplating for a moment, the advisor nodded several times, suddenly displayed a why not look, and called Dr. Gene Jackson, who had participated in a number of dream studies and was, therefore, the most dream-savvy professor in the department. She told Allie she thought Jackson was a Freudian traditionalist but had been exposed to other theories and concepts, and that Allie might benefit from a conversation with him. After a fifteen second phone chat with Jackson, she hung up. “You’re on at 3:00 p.m. tomorrow. Good luck. See you in a couple weeks. I’ll be away for a little fun next week. You have some fun, too. Okay?” She waved the next doctoral candidate into the office. “Bye, Allie. Good session.”
“I will. Thanks, ma’am. Have a good time. I appreciate your help.”