butterflies of horn
"The gates of horn and ivory are a literary image used to distinguish true dreams (corresponding to factual occurrences) from false. The phrase originated in the Greek language, in which the word for "horn" is similar to that for "fulfil" and the word for "ivory" is similar to that for "deceive". On the basis of that play on words, true dreams are spoken of as coming through the gates of horn, false dreams as coming through those of ivory." - Wikipedia
Two gates the silent house of Sleep adorn;
Of polish'd ivory this, that of transparent horn:
True visions thro' transparent horn arise;
Thro' polish'd ivory pass deluding lies.
Of various things discoursing as he pass'd,
Anchises hither bends his steps at last.
Then, thro' the gate of iv'ry, he dismiss'd
His valiant offspring and divining guest
The Dreamers and the Dreams
The psychiatrist Carl Jung once had a dream in which he found himself behind a meditating yogi, in a temple. On walking to the front of the yogi he discovered that it was himself.
In his dream he knew, at that moment, that when the yogi's meditation was over, he, Carl Jung, would die as a human.
It is a very ancient Hindu concept that we and the universe are fragments of a dream, or a meditation of God.
The book Alice Through the Looking Glass, was obligatory reading for part of my math course at the University of London. It was a chess problem and a series of Boolean logic problems, written as a story by the Cambridge mathematician Charles Dodgson, whose pen name was Lewis Carroll. In it the Red King is asleep in the forest. The characters in the book are all aware that they are all figments of his dream, and that if he wakes up they will cease to exist . . . full text
"Zhuangzi (simplified Chinese: 庄子; traditional Chinese: 莊子; pinyin: Zhuāng Zǐ; Wade–Giles: Chuang Tzŭ) was an influential Chinese philosopher who lived around the 4th century BCE during the Warring States Period, a period corresponding to the philosophical summit of Chinesethought — the Hundred Schools of Thought, and is credited with writing—in part or in whole—a work known by his name, the Zhuangzi. His name Zhuangzi (English "Master Zhuang", with Zi being an honorific) is sometimes spelled Zhuang Tze, Zhuang Zhou, Chuang Tsu, Chuang Tzu, Chouang-Dsi, Chuang Tse, or Chuangtze." - Wikipedia
Zhuangzi - "Being Boundless"
In an unexplored area in the far north, there was a fish whose name was Kun. The Kun was so big that no one could figure out how many feet across it was. It transformed into a bird whose name was Peng. No one could figure out how many feet across its back was. When it burst into flight, its wings seemed to hang in the sky like clouds. This bird had the capacity to make its move to an unexplored area in the far south where the sky was like a large lake.
From Qi Xie's "Tales of the Supernatural" (a book of legends and myths):
Xie wrote:
"On the Peng's migration to the unexplored south, it beat against the water for a thousand miles. It spiraled upward like a cyclone for thirty thousand miles. It traveled for six months before it stopped to rest. Horses went wild. Dust and dirt flew everywhere. The creatures on the earth had their breath taken away by all that wind blowing everywhere." full text
"Once Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't know he was Zhuangzi. Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakable Zhuangzi. But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi." database and intro
"You enter upon the way of Chuang Tzu when you leave all ways and get lost."
Betwixt and between Lao Tzu's 'way' and Chuang-Tzu's
'wayless way' there must be a point of balance . . .
/
wayward
this leaf and I —
detached
jp
"Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Your poetry issues of its own accord when you and the object have become one – when you have plunged deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there. However well-phrased your poetry may be, if the object and yourself are separate – then your poetry is not true poetry but a semblance of the real thing." (Bashō)