The Speed of Life—Part One: Nightmare

A few days ago, I had a very weird experience: I gasped awake from a dreadful nightmare. This is weird, because I never remember my dreams. Well, this one was vivid and had me roiling in emotional turmoil. It began vaguely with me and my family in a restaurant in some unrecognizable part of town…it was midday and we were watching an alarming news release about linked turbulent weather patterns all over the globe. The tension that emanated from everyone was palpable, as though I could feel the tension of every person on the planet. I noticed that the sky looked queer, strange. It had grown dark like a deep sea storm and I noticed the clouds flaming with crimson. Drawn by curiosity mixed with dread, I slipped outside to get a better look and walked up the hill a bit to see beyond the building. What I saw was spectacular at first then terrifying: the flame-rimmed clouds were racing across the sky at breakneck speed and against them in gold ochre shades I could make out the silhouettes of the continents, as though the burning sun had flung them up there (okay, so this is a dream, folks!)… As I stared up, dumbfounded, at the clouds speeding across the dark sky, I suddenly realized with gut-wrenching alarm that it wasn’t so much the clouds racing across the sky as the planet speeding up! I could actually feel its rotation speeding up! I could feel the centrifugal pull of its motion unbalancing me. When I awoke, a dark heaviness and foreboding clung to me that I found hard to shake. It stayed with me the rest of the day.

Around the same time that I had experienced my nightmare, a close friend of mine had an accident at her work place.
She manages a crew at one of the world’s busiest courier service airfreight centers in America, where it isn’t unheard of that a million parcels move through their unit during a person’s shift. Amidst the bustle, a piece of equipment swung down and hit her on the head, knocking her off balance and throwing her—almost—off the platform. To keep from falling, she did some impressive Michael Jackson move and pulled a muscle in her leg.

What does the dream and my friend’s accident have to do with each other? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Here’s what I think…

I’ve been pursuing a dizzying schedule both as a scientist at my environmental consulting job and as a writer promoting my current release, Darwin’s Paradox, amidst writing my current book and trying to lead a normal life as mother, wife and friend. The dream was a clarion call for me. I don’t remember my dreams often, so when I do, I take them seriously. And my dreams are usually about things of large scope…not sure why… This dream followed the wake of a significant conversation I’d had with two scientist/artist friends of mine at Starbucks the night before. We’d been discussing global warming and the general health of the planet, how disconnected so many of us have become with nature and life’s natural cycles in general. My dream was a clarion call for the speed of my life, the speed of all our lives. The speed of this planet. We are all living fast. And when we do, how do we find time for the stillness of life? That place where we find quiet depth and peace. We cram in a quick latte before the hectic drive to work… we jostle for the best position on the commuter train and ignore our neighbor… we scan our blackberry sixty times a day to tell us what we are actually doing in a day stuffed with so many activities we can’t possibly keep track of them… we multi-task using cell-phones, wireless laptops, and blackberries to accomplish what three people would otherwise do to impress our boss and keep our job… we organize then reorganize our spouse’s and children’s daily activities so they don’t get bored… We are a whole planet careering toward burn-out.

Have you ever seen the 1982 movie, Koyaanisqatsi? I’d mentioned this film to my colleagues at Starbucks that night too. Directed by Godfrey Reggio with cinematography by Ron Fricke, the film is a time-lapse rushing flow of cities and natural landscapes to the hypnotic music of minimalist composer Philip Glass. The visual tone poem uses no dialogue or narration to depict our relationship with nature and technology. Its compelling imagery and hypnotic score portrays a frantic society on the move. And on the brink. The word Koyaanisqatsi means 'life of moral corruption and turmoil, life out of balance' in the Hopi language; and the film implies that modern humanity is living that way.

film, Baraka (1992) directed by Ron Fricke, evokes sensual emotion through similar time-lapse footage of various landscapes, churches, ruins, religious ceremonies, and cities thrumming with life. Using a rich and evocative score by Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerrard, the film (which again contains no dialogue) captures the flowing imagery of a pulsing humanity as it flocks and swarms like a self-organized organism in daily activity (Wikipedia). The film features a number of long tracking shots through various settings, including one through former concentration camps at Auschwitz (in Nazi-occupied Poland) and Tuol Sleng (in Cambodia), over photos of victims, skulls stacked in a room, to a spread of bones. Baraka searches for a universal cultural perspective: for instance, a shot of an elaborate tattoo on a bathing Japanese yakuza mobster is followed by one of Native Australian tribal paint. The word Baraka means blessing in many different languages and this movie seems to me to indeed portray us more hopefully.

It's all a balance, isn't it? In a previous post of mine, entitled Sacred Balance, I muse on this often elusive state: "We all knowingly or unknowingly strive for balance in our daily lives—that sacred but sometimes messy place where yin and yang joyfully collide: a place and time where the heavenward strain for perfection is tempered with the ponderous scent of soil and dirt… where dark and light blend in a chiaroscuro of infinite possibility…We strive for balance because it is wholeness—the mandala—and wholeness brings us peace, joy and understanding. So, why do so few of us achieve it? I think that is because, ironically, balance incorporates paradox, which is difficult for us to embrace. Balance is complex; it requires creativity, innovation, and an open mind. Because balance is always shifting and redefining itself."

Well, tomorrow I intend to heed my clarion call and get out for a nice long walk in the fresh air…After I do my Chapters signing, that is…

By the way, my friend is okay. Thankfully.

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of novels, short stories and essays. She coaches writers and teaches writing at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. For more about Nina’s coaching & workshops visit www.ninamunteanu.me. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for more about her writing.