Notes

[ Sunday 4 December 1983 - Saturday 10 1983 ]

Sunday 4 December 1983

Monday 5 December 1983

[DREAMING 23/2/82 ->] = [DB1] [page 118]

Last night ... returned, and told me about her visit to a spiritual weekend at which an old Franciscan priest, much studied in Theology, had spoken. And so to dreaming.

I am at a university, but have in some way been expelled and am trying to make amends. First visit someone like a dean (reminiscent of all the walking round it took me to sort out my degree pattern in Armidale 4 years ago). He tells me what I must do. It involves a long trek along a path (from UNE campus to the residences?) At first I am told, the track will not be obvious, then it will become a road (reminiscent of walking path to road at UNE). I will come to a building and to find a person whose name I do not now remember. It is a large panelled mansion, perhaps Boolomimba, perhaps some other old house (eg Order of Preachers at Riversdale Road, Camberwell). I go right through out to a servants quarterish place at the back, and there I see the name. He is an old priest with an ascetic little room, a priedieu of some sort and a shelf of books over a cast iron fireplace. (Can you remember the days when I used to pray so earnestly in church and in my room, seeking light, seeking enlightenment, seeking the religious experience that I read about in the lives of the saints). He questioned me closely about my fault, whatever it was

[page 119]

And told me it was serious. Seemed to think he could absolve me, and gave me something to take away - a cross between a push bike wheel reflector (I picked one up yesterday) and a small pyx. Perhaps it has a host in it. I took it and left, feeling in some way that I could fulfill the requirements. At the same time as soon as I got out of sight, I had a desire to fling it sacrilegiously into the woods. And, in my dream, I was capable (as I usually am not in these reminiscent dreams) of reflecting on the fact that the conventions that bound me so strongly were all such a load of bullshit, rather as one finds oneself enmeshed in sexual taboos while feeling rationally that one could have a lot more fun if they were cast aside. This may be rather like the feeling experienced by bicameral man coming into consciousness. Jaynes. The dream then faded. It continues to amaze me that the experiences of my youth have such a strong grip on my dreamworld. Freud's dream theories perhaps reflect back in time rather than back into the depths of subconsciousness.

[Creation - The Metaphysics of Peace = CMP I] = [DB20]

[page 129]

One of the chief problems of consciousness has been the birth of neurosis. This might be especially noted among the Hebrews and their descendants, one of the most conscious of races. The fully conscious person, responsible for his own life, is always prey to self doubt. Consciousness without talent is hell - intelligence without conscience us academicism - mensaism. Conscious people want to make their mark, show the world, a thing which printing makes possible.

[page 130]

Part of the reaction to conciousness is the demand for scientific objectivity - sink the I and show me the evidence, thus creating the dilemma of many a mystic scientist - should I chain myself to a laboratory for the rest of my life just to get the evidence for my fantasies. Would I do better as a writer of science fiction, throwing objectivity to the winds. Science must be subjective too, and it can be because we share a subjective identity of nature and we are part of the same creative Universe, drawing our energy from the same springs of consciousness. In the end we can relax and let the community of our creative nature carry us along.

Tuesday 6 December 1983