"Fill the edges of your bed with pebbles"

Blessed with good sleep, I have learned within the last few years to tell when I am just about to nod off. As neural oscillations slow down, my thoughts become hazy and confused; I feel the urge to cough, or to swallow, or scratch myself, this snaps me briefly back to waking state, but then, very soon after that – I'm asleep. I'll typically wake once or twice a night, and usually (if I don't drink a late coffee) I'd fall asleep in much the same manner.

This transition state between wakefulness and sleep is fascinating, as reality distorts during the process. I try to monitor it, knowing that I give it too much thought, it will stop me from drifting off. I have to let the distinction between thought and consciousness blur, naturally, observing it in stealthy manner.

As I close my eyes, the backs of my eyelids become like a giant, full-width cinema screen upon which I can imagine pictures. While in the wakeful state, I am thinking those images onto the screen. But as I start drifting off into the sleep state, the images begin to generate themselves. 

Lying in bed last night, I was pondering over what Moni and I had discussed on Skype, namely the Buddhist koan – a question asked by the Zen master of the student, designed to provoke an insight. I feel myself starting to fall asleep... 

With my eyelids shut, I could make out on that inner cinema screen the image of a Native American face, perhaps Inuit (certainly Arctic and not Plains Indian). Spontaneously generated.

And so I fell asleep, and I heard the word Ch'qarpa. What does this mean? And later, as my dream developed, I also heard the word Ch'waukwe. Meanwhile I am dreaming of myself, asleep. My bed is outdoors, in a field; and around the mattress are pebbles, dozens of them, river-washed, smooth, shiny, and multicoloured. Flecked or striped, in many different natural colours – ochres, aquamarines, terracottas and burnt umbers. 

"Fill the edges of your bed with pebbles of many colours," thought unto me the Native American (there was no spoken word this time, this was a telepathic message). 

This was so fascinating I decided to hold on tight to my dream. Despite its onset being as my sleep began, I would wake, think about it, drift back to sleep thinking about it, then dreaming the dream on, for much of the night.

My bed indeed with its deep wooden frame that surrounds the mattress can thus be decorated. But the dream suggested that the pebbles were more than mere decorations; for placed in such a manner, they had supernatural properties. I learned no more; the dream moved on. 

Is there anything in this? Parsing it with Occam's Razor, it's either a fantasy that's been literally dreamed up, or its a message from the metaphysical realm. Or perhaps – maybe a bit of both... Is it a sign from Hashem, that I, Dembinski, should fill the edges of my bed with pebbles? 

Couldn't hurt.

[Follow-up from later the same day: I walk to Sułkowice, turn into ulica Dolna and head down to the Czarna river with the intention of finding pebbles. The Czarna was as opaque as its name suggests, a slow-moving dark ribbon with a muddy bottom. Seeking pebbles, I find none.]

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De-growth: A personal manifesto, Pt II

This time last year:
Old signs in Wrocław and Gliwice

This time two years ago:
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This time five years ago:
Great crested grebes and swans hatch

This time seven years ago:
Jeziorki birds in the late May sunshine

This time eight years ago:
Making sense of Andrzej Duda's win

This time 12 years ago:
A walk down ul. Gogolińska

This time 16 years ago:
Twilight in the garden

This time 17 years ago:
Late-May reflections