Speed of the Dream
I would also point to a third structural property. This property concerns the different “speeds” at which dreams are moving. Some dreams move very fast, one episode leaping inexplicably into another (often unrelated) episode. Other dreams move very slowly, as did my dream. They spin out an entire tale, with intricate visual displays, extended dialogues, and exciting (but often stressful) portrayals of long-duration events.
One way to think about what is happening in both the slow-moving and fast-moving dreams concerns the consumption of energy. In the fields of psychoanalysis and the fine arts, the term “catharsis” is often used. This term refers to the purification or purgation of emotions (such as pity and fear) primarily through art or psychotherapy. In psychoanalysis, catharsis refers to the elimination of a deep-seated emotional conflict by bringing it to consciousness and enabling its expression.
Fundamentally, catharsis is about the expenditure and redirection of psychic energy. I would propose that fast-moving dreams are burning up (catharsis) at a very fast rate, whereas the slow-moving dreams are burning slowly. Brief, immediate concerns are addressed quickly (early at night), while deep-seated conflicts are displayed and slowly addressed in complex form late in the evening. We find fast-bursts of flame early on and long-burning fires later on.
We replicate both the fast and slow ways of working during the day. As Daniel Kahneman (2011) has proposed, there are times when we are fast thinking (often making use of convenient heuristics) while at other times we are slow thinking (making use of new perspectives and modes of problem-solving). When asleep, we similarly make use of existing, often repeatedly used dream elements in our fast-burning dreams. Our slow-burning dreams are more likely to contain novel, frame-breaking elements (needed to address deeply embedded focal conflicts).
Role of Dreamer
The dreamer in some dreams is sitting back as an observer of what is occurring in front of them. The action they are observing might be brutal, and death might be portrayed in abundance; yet the dreamer feels nothing. Maybe a bit curious or pessimistic about the evil that exists in this dream world, but not personally traumatized. At times, the dreamer might even serve as a narrator, commenting on the actions taking place (or at least thinking about this action).
At other times, the dreamer is a participant in the dream, but they play a secondary role. There is a brawl in a tavern (we lazily steal a scene from an old western movie we watched last night on TV). We are there in the middle of the mayhem, but are not touched by anyone or anything. Someone breaks into our home and ties up our spouse. We do nothing and just stand there. We awake and find ourselves feeling guilty about not doing something to “rescue” our loved one. Awakened from their dream, the dreamer might not even be sure if they were actual participants in the events that occurred in the dream.
Dreamers don’t get away this easily in other dreams. They are fully participating in and are impacted by what is occurring in the dream. My opening dream certainly fits into this category. I am completely exhausted after participating actively in the dream. I leap from one building to the next. I am escaping from some evil force. As is the case with many dreams that people have, the evil force is never identified in my dream. Other challenging first-person dreams involve the death of someone close to us. And we grieve this death as much as we would if it had occurred in real life. Upon awaking, a moment must be taken to recognize that this death has not really occurred. Tears might still be shed, and there is a strong, welling up of gratitude for the continuing life of this loved one.
