I Had A Dream

Last night I had a dream. It was astonishingly complex and detailed. Sadly, as is the case with most dreams, it passed quickly from my memory. Even now I can remember it only in vaguest outline, and for the overall impact it had on me. I think dreams are simply not made to be remembered.

As I recall I was being held in captivity, but in such a way that I didn’t even know until later that I was being held against my will. After all, it was a dream, and things didn’t proceed as they ordinarily would. Nor did my perception of them.

At some point I had to take what was termed “the box test”. This involved watching a number of films on DVD. I then had to answer questions about the films. The test was given by an attractive young woman for whom I had no immediate feelings. She sat at a bench alongside a rather matronly woman, who seemed to be giving her some sort of guidance when necessary.

The films frequently featured a woman to whom many sad things happened. Not horribly or bloodily sad things. They were simply unfortunate little tragedies, but they invoked in me a visceral wish that I could prevent such sadness in her life. Still, I knew I couldn’t. So I drank. And this drinking affected my ability to perform the test.

At one point I found myself transported into one of the films. I was fleeing for my life by half bounding, half flying down a long hillside pursued by some fantastic mechanical contraption which resembled a bird of prey. Its exterior appeared metallic, golden. And each time it came down and struck the hillside it smashed to bits. These pieces instantly reconstituted themselves into yet another fantastic creature and continued to pursue me. This happened repeatedly, until there simply weren’t enough parts left to continue the pursuit.

At this point the film ended and I was put into a small cell lined with blocks of stone. Eventually the door opened and I was led down a short hall to a much larger area. There I again saw the young woman who had given me the test. It wasn’t until that moment that I actually understood that all I’d undergone had been a test. I stood around making small talk with others, jokingly remarking how I was worried that my drinking had affected my final test results. Finally I was assured that everything was alright, that in fact I’d done quite well on the hardest part, which was “the box test”.

Then I was released and found myself standing on a hillside which constituted part of a long shallow valley. I watched as a fantastic metallic bird of prey came crashing down the valley, and I understood that someone else was taking the test.

Eventually all activity in the valley came to a quiet halt. The stillness was interrupted by the sight of a long convoy of vehicles of various kinds moving from one end of the valley to the other, where they passed out of sight.

The last vehicles in the convoy were some sort of utility machines. There were two of them, hauling large, flat circular objects. The machines positioned themselves and began to dig two very large but shallow holes. They did this by wheeling in a circular fashion. They skimmed the dirt covering two very large discs, revealing two flying saucers. At this point the discs which had been on the trucks were positioned over these discs in the ground (to the accompaniment of all sorts of whirring and thumping sounds), and they were screwed into them.

This being done the huge discs rose out of the ground, hovered awhile, then slowly moved toward the crest of the hill. Just before moving over the crest and out of sight one of the discs opened like a clamshell. Hovering in the sky above the hill, it actually waved one of its halves toward me! I instinctively raised my arm slowly waved back.

Believe you me, it was a real E.T. moment. Because I realized that the young woman for whom I thought I’d felt nothing was going away. And that I’d never see her again.

And here’s the thing that impressed me most of all about the whole fantastic series of events. As I stood there on the hillside, alone in the coming darkness waving slowly up at the sky, at that very moment I felt like I was in love again.

The Answer

I’ll keep this short and simple, since all great truths are straightforward and self-evident.

Life is absurd. It has no intrinsic meaning. One comes from a great void and passes into a vast nothingness. Wherever, whatever, however these before and after states may be, the answer has no application to ordinary human awareness. We might as well regard these times as dreamless non-being. There simply is no awareness. As far as anyone knows.

All we know is that we are here. We exist. This is nothing new. Awareness of one’s existence is the basic starting point of all human life. It is the one thing we all know to be true before we are targeted by an endless barrage of belated and wholly unnecessary “truths”.

Now, here’s where it gets complicated. Because there is nothing beyond mere existence. But from the moment of awareness the individual is bombarded relentlessly by directives about how one must conduct their life. These directives vary in the degree of their insistence from mild parental guidance to stern societal commands to damning religious strictures.

Granted, to a large degree parental and societal guidance is useful. We do, after all, conduct ourselves largely as social beings, and it’s good that we all largely agree to be on the same page. The danger lies in regarding these guidelines as being something more than mere arbitrary suggestions. Danger lies in regarding them as moral absolutes which are not subject to question without injury to one’s own self-esteem or social ostracism. In such instances one risks fears of inadequacy, stupidity, embarrassment, perversion, isolation, loneliness, and generally negative self-devaluation simply for asking, “Why?”

I have founded my life upon an existential basis. On the one hand I feel free to make my own moral choices without regard to text or pulpit. On the other hand I believe that such moral relativism brings to the individual the full burden of moral responsibility. I cannot, nor will I seek to justify my behavior by reference to holy writ or legal statutes. It would have been better had more Germans been moral relativists, rather than just following orders.

An even greater danger lies in the absolute folly of religious stricture. Because throughout the history of human kind these have been the most fervently enforced and fatal of delusions.

There is no God. This is so self-evident to me that I can’t fathom how anyone can believe otherwise. I mean, where’s the proof? Well, I learned long ago not to ask such a question. You know the old saw. “To those who do not believe no proof is sufficient. To those who believe no proof is necessary.” Well, maybe. Maybe not. I do not believe in God, not because of an insufficiency of proof, but because of a total lack of proof. And if others insist that there is proof of God all around, obviously proof is necessary for their belief.

Inevitably in the course of discussions regarding the meaning of life these questions arise: “How can you live without any meaning? Why don’t you just commit suicide?”

Well, to begin with living is pretty much a given. It’s the natural state of living things. The very fact that we’re discussing the matter rather presumes that the first question must remain rhetorical. To posit the need for some sort of “meaning” as a prerequisite for living is like putting the cart before the horse. With or without meaning life abides.

As to why one doesn’t just commit suicide, well, putting aside the obvious hostility implicit in such a question I think it silly to believe that one has to either cobble together some sort of “meaning” or, in the alternative, snuff oneself. I just don’t see life in such stark terms.

To be, or not to be? Hmmmmm. Let me sleep on that one.

Which, as a matter of fact, may be why I’m perfectly happy to be free to simply live and to allow whatever “meaning” there may be to take care of itself. In the meantime I’m free to pass my life in a vast, mysterious, and unknowable reality which leaves me in a constant state of awe and wonder. This is enough for me. I feel perfectly comfortable living without final answers, and I feel no great need to pursue them. This way I feel free to believe what I want, when I want.

And here’s the key to living happily this way. Living one’s life without meaning does not mean living without faith. Oh, I have a busload of faith. Because I do believe that once everything’s all said and done, it’ll be all right.

Yes. It’ll be all right.