dreaming/reality, asleep/awake

If you think about it, you soon come to realize that the ability for your mind to be aware of the reality of the world is extremely limited. Not only do you usually focus on the things that directly surround you, but even when you think abstractly - or perhaps especially when you think abstractly - your thoughts can completely ignore the ""realities" of "the world.""

When you are asleep is when most people dream the most (in the traditional sense of the word). When you are awake is when you are most directly in contact with what we call reality.

But what about those people whose daily lives are more like dreams, whose awake times are more like asleep times?

Here in Japan I have noticed a strong tendency for people's awake time and thoughts to be more like what I know as dreaming, or partially-asleep, time and thoughts. For example, the concept of pure water or Mt. Aso seems to heavily over-power the realities of those two things. People here will positively praise the seemingly magically special water of Ubuyama, or aura of Mt. Aso, even though, in reality, they are just water and a few mountains (albeit beautiful and special, even in reality). But this tendency goes much, much deeper than a romanticization of natural entities: it goes into an obsession for places like Disneyland and Universal Studios that are designed to help people experience a completely fabricated, dreamlike environment. It goes into cultural traditions like festivals and Shinto wish-making. Dreams, as well as their cause (being at least partially unconscious), seem to function in almost every individual's life here.

One could refer to the dreamlike qualities of Miyazaki Hayao's films, or even Kurosawa Akira's film (conveniently) entitled "Yume" ("Dreams"). Also: Murakami Haruki's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Dreams are ubiquitous in Japanese culture and life.

But do dreams necessarily mean a version of life that is less awake and more asleep, and thus less conscious of reality in the traditional sense of the word (or maybe I should say "reality in the traditional, Western sense of the word")?

These kinds of dreams do seem to functionally limit other forms of awareness, i.e. less dreamy, idealized versions of seeing, understanding, and thinking about the world. But does the somewhat extreme idealization that exists in Japan denote a measure of unconsciousness or a lack of consciousness that might be important or useful? I do not know. It is hard to make judgments across cultures of this nature. But I can say that the dreams and idealizations that I see occurring here - as well as in certain parts of British, Irish, and Hawaiian culture (just to mention a few) - can make one's ideas of the world around them more jolly and less sinister (again, I cannot say that one or the other is necessarily am altogether positive thing).

Anyhow, I am getting tired and my mind would like to move from abstract musings to a more complete form of unconsciousness. These thoughts came to my mind as I drove down the mountain today in the mist (on my way to a going away dinner organized by the older ladies of my conversation class) and then were later stimulated by watching the original "Wizard of Oz" with its musical counterpart, Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon." Together they produce (for me) a creative rumination on consciousness and unconsciousness (as well as identity, the psyche, time, money, life, and death). (fyi: start the album on the MGM lion's third roar and be sure to have it on 'repeat all').

. . .

A detail from the dinner: of the five ladies at the dinner, there was one who was very disappointed when I couldn't eat all of the large, grilled fish head that was served to me. The fish head, complete with eyes, was one of many dishes, a large portion of which were incredibly unappealing to me. They were Japanese dishes, arrayed in the summer-style of Japanese dining (with particularly summer-esque plates, colors, and foods), and were too decorative and cold for my taste. For example, one dish involved raw octopus and cucumber in whipped raw egg topped off with a few salmon eggs. I avoided eating some of the things served to me, but the grandma became frustrated that I didn't eat the fish head. She said "poor fish, he died and now you won't eat his head," in a frustrated voice. I then offered her the fish and explained that it was just as wasteful to eat food that I didn't need and/or couldn't properly digest. She then muttered something like "gross" (referring to the half eaten fish head) and later ate it along with her specially ordered whale meat. I do my best, even in the face of strange eating morals (and despite it all I'm still fond of this particular grandma).