I am going to share with you a recurring dream sequence I have been having, if only because it demonstrates the peculiar nature of dreaming and consciousness. This particular dream is a little different from other dreams. It has been building upon itself over a very long time. Last night, however, it took a different turn.
I haven’t mentioned it earlier simply because it baffled me. Even my dreaming self, who usually takes all the weirdness and the baffling nature of dreams for granted, finds the dream baffling. Moreover, the dream is still unfolding — still inconclusive.
I spent most of my early morning staring at a cartoon by Chris Riddell that appears in today’s Guardian.
The cartoon is a mocking reference to the scandal- and controversy-plagued government of the UK’s Prime Minister David Cameron. But it can be appreciated more generally as being in the spirit of Francisco Goya’s “The Sleep of Reason Breeds Monsters” (c. 1799) or Henry Fuseli’s “The Nightmare” (c. 1781. Fuseli, it might be noted in passing, was a friend of William Blake).
I have deviated somewhat from the prime directive of the last few posts, which was my attempt to demonstrate how any idea, as an energetic entity in its own right, comes to be realised (or manifested) within the physical system — in time and space — by being articulated in the four directions of our reality: past and future times, inner and outer spaces (or, if you prefer, origin and destiny, mind and body, respectively). The perfection of an idea is its epiphany, when it is wholly realised or manifested.
If I have deviated, that’s OK. I’m a deviant kind of guy. My rationale for the interruption is the fortuitousness of events and the excuse that it makes sense to “strike while the iron is hot”, as they say. Besides, this post on “The Cosmic Number” is not even much of a deviation from the prime directive, since number is one aspect or facet of “the whole idea”.
Yesterday I watched a hawk and pigeon engage in mortal combat; or, rather, a pigeon struggling to escape a hawk that had homed in on it. The pigeon would escape one assault only to be attacked again, dodging and weaving until it succumbed to the hawk’s talons.
That spectacle prompted an acquaintance I was with to recall how he once saw a hawk pin a sparrow against the wall of his house. Impasse. No matter which way the poor terrified sparrow dodged and weaved, the hawk blocked every route of escape until it went in for the kill.
Once again I will remind that it is advisable to have first read the previous two posts (“The House of Stone and Light” and “The Balance of an Idea: Mandala and Pyramid“) before diving into this one, as some concepts presented here probably won’t be understandable without reference to concepts presented earlier.
I want here (with this post and following posts) to continue with the theme begun in the last brief essay on The House of Stone and Light, and to begin to address, in particular, some of the issues I raised in my summary comment about Martin Page’s song and the significance of this house of stone and light. As a mandala form it is a symbolic representation of what Jean Gebser would call a “structure of consciousness” — perhaps even the shape of minds to come. There is something quite “Blakean” about Mr. Page’s song; which is to say, prophetic.