/psy/ - psychology and psychonautics

I had a wonderful dream about travelling through alternate timelines.

It was a pre-planned journey and I was with a group of people. I had my bag packed, with all sorts of papers which were supposed to prove something to someone in the past, and a large synthesizer keyboard in its own separate case. When we made the jump, my papers were gone but I still had the keyboard.

Things appeared the same, there were no anomalies to be seen. Yet, everyone else's memories seemed to be different. The people I was travelling with initially expressed having had a similar experience to mine, losing objects, keeping their memory, though as the dream went on and I went through several more timelines, they faded out of the picture and I was left by myself. There were (many) other people in the dream who came and went: strangers and acquaintances, friend and family alike all seemingly oblivious to anything out of the ordinary happening, as if I was always in the right place in the right time even though as I perceived it, time was shifting around.

At one point I was a guest at a wedding, seated at a long, rectangular table with a white tablecloth and a buffet prepared and laid out along with a standard place setting for each guest: folded napkins, plates, cutlery, water goblets. The table took up most of the similarly shaped, rather claustrophobic room for such an occasion. Facing bright a white wall with beaming sunlight coming out of too-small windows, an ornate fireplace with pictures and a few vases of flowers, my back (along with all the other guests') was turned to the (presumably) more open area (i.e. large doors leading to a hallway) of whatever building this was in.

Whoever was getting married, the most important person was the father of the bride. A tall, bald muscular Turkish man whose entrance commanded absolute attention and brought solemnity and quiet over the room. We all took hands for a prayer or something.

And then time shifted again and now I was helping to cater this wedding. Only I didn't know the menu and I kept getting in the way. And everyone was mad at me for acting like all of a sudden I just forgot where I was and what I was doing. After all, in their view I was there all along.

—

It's really kinda hard to remember and describe dreams in words especially when, in this case, the majority of the plot as it were is comprised of feelings and perception. Describing architecture and places and how they feel to be in and their meaning is especially difficult to communicate.

And as I went on remembering it I realize most of the dream is just regrets about lost friendships, ambitions, hopes…

…and the sci-fi element of alternate realities/timelines/universes is just from popular media…

However it's very rare that I have such a dream so I wanted to try to remember it.

One last thing: In a way it's like at any given moment there appear to be an infinite number of possibilities but for whatever reason everything is constrained to a single outcome. And when I'm with someone, in some place, at some time, doing something, I can't ever just enjoy it. Because I know that moment won't last. The only way to preserve it is to try to remember it as best as I can, as it's happening. And whomever I'm with doesn't seem to understand. That this will be lost. That there is so much potential right here, right now but that it's already gone. That it's futile to fight against. That my life is not my own.

I mean I just don't understand how everyone can seemingly be fine with the unstoppable progression of time and the immutable consequences of decisions (or indecision) and complete and utter lack of control or even predictability of virtually everything. What's the point of searching for a moment to experience when it will disappear just as fast?