In my tent, I create and I invent.

Enter Thy Dream

In my tent,
I create and I invent.

And in my tent
I peel,
The images of my senses,
In an attempt,
To reach the grounds,
At which my conscience can’t extend to prevent my memory,
From joining the potential of two extremes.

To look at the judge’s vacant seat
Makes being at two opposites at once, real,
Zero indeed -time leaves-
So as I approach this final shade.

And when everything now
Feels colorless, tasteless, odorless, mute,
And all of that
A legend alarms the shadow of night,
So just to strike my tent with light.

Imagine a subconscious in too deep,
As a divine dream rises to capture the universe and its deities.

A voice from far and near sounds as if it is coming from outside,
And simultaneously from within me says:
“Enter thy dream.”

I enter.

I dream.

The Portal of Imagination

Isn’t it fascinating how our dreams can serve as gateways to unexplored realms of consciousness? This piece beautifully captures the liminal space between waking and dreaming, where reality bends and new possibilities emerge.

In “Thus Spoke Zarathustra,” Nietzsche writes, “I teach you the overman. Man is something that shall be overcome. What have you done to overcome him?” This call for self-transcendence is reflected in the poem’s lines “I create and I invent and my tent,” suggesting the power of the individual to shape their own reality.

However, this image of creating and inventing in a tent does remind me of what Joseph Campbell said about the hero’s journey: “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” Our inner spaces, like this metaphorical tent, often hold the keys to our greatest creations.

The concept of peeling away sensory images to reach beyond conscience echoes what Carl Jung meant when he spoke about the collective unconscious: “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” By delving deep into our psyche, we can access profound truths and potentials.

When the poem speaks of being “at two opposites at once,” it brings to mind what physicist Niels Bohr said about quantum superposition: “If quantum mechanics hasn’t profoundly shocked you, you haven’t understood it yet.” The realm of dreams, like quantum reality, can defy our usual logic.

The poem’s portrayal of peeling away sensory perceptions to reach a deeper level of consciousness echoes Nietzsche’s critique of conventional morality and his call for a “revaluation of all values.” As Nietzsche states, “You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”

This idea of a “subconscious in too deep” rising to “capture the universe and its deities” reflects what mythologist Mircea Eliade wrote about sacred time: “In imitating the exemplary acts of a god or of a mythic hero, or simply by recounting their adventures, the man of an archaic society detaches himself from profane time and magically re-enters the Great Time, the sacred time.” Our dreams can connect us to something larger than ourselves.

As the psychologist James Hillman put it: “The soul has been given its own ears to hear things the mind does not understand.” The invitation to “Enter thy dream” is a call to listen with these inner ears.

Furthermore, the poem’s climactic invitation to “Enter thy dream” resonates with Nietzsche’s concept of “amor fati” (love of fate) and the eternal recurrence. In “The Gay Science,” Nietzsche asks, “What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more’?” The poem’s embrace of the dream state as a form of reality reflects this Nietzschean idea of fully embracing and shaping one’s existence.

So what does all this mean? Perhaps it’s about recognizing the profound potential that lies within our dreamscapes. It’s about understanding that our dreams are not just nightly diversions, but portals to deeper understanding and creativity.

Remember, every time you enter a dream, you’re exploring uncharted territories of your psyche. As Anaïs Nin said, “Dreams are necessary to life.” They’re not just escapes, but essential journeys of self-discovery and creation.

If you find yourself on the threshold of a dream, consider: What new realities might you create or discover? Because in the end, isn’t that what makes our inner worlds so magical? This ability to transcend ordinary reality, to merge opposites, to touch the divine through our imagination. Your dreams are inviting you on an extraordinary journey. How will you answer the call to “Enter thy dream” today?