I dreamt last night, as I so frequently do, about diving. I can’t breathe underwater in these dreams, rising to the surface at appropriate intervals, though I’ll be halfway aware of the fact that I am actually breathing while skimming the sea floor. I guess I choose not to acknowledge it, because it goes against everything I’ve ever understood.
In last night’s dream, something special happened. A young harbor seal, chubby as can be, swam right up to me for a cuddle. The experience was so lovely, it put me in a good mood that lasted much of the morning. My dreams have been lonely and empty lately.
Once upon a time, my underwater dreamscape was vibrant, full of marine life. Over time, the reefs began to die and vanish. These days, I spend much of my dream life swimming around on sandy seafloors, searching for signs of life in the occasional algae-covered litter. More and more, the beaches and riverbanks have transformed into featureless concrete walls, hinting that that the oceans of my subconscious have been contained to swimming pools.
It’s interesting, this long-term evolution of my dream world. For the first 24 years of my life, my absolute goal was to study social behavior in dolphins and whales. I stepped away for many reasons, one being the inevitable reality of having to support marine mammal captivity in order to study their interactions.
Weirdly, when I was pursuing these ambitions, my underwater dream world was rich and brimming with life. Now that I’ve turned away from it, I’ve become that captive marine mammal, aimlessly wandering around in circles and looking for something, anything to engage with in the empty waters of my mind.
Which is why it was so wonderful to be greeted last night by a friendly harbor seal, who swam right into my arms when I opened them. In the dream, I also spent time following a giant Pacific octopus and a goliath grouper.
The seafloor was still bare, water’s edge was still a wall, but there was a powerful current threatening to drag me out to open ocean, wherever that was. I couldn’t see any sign of it, but faintly, ever so faintly, I could hear the signature crackling and popping sounds of a thriving marine ecosystem somewhere in the distance.
I love what dreams can reveal about the things we struggle to see in daily life.
