Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self Quotes

“(Re)awakening to the wonder of our common humanity feels like the most important project we could undertake as the traumatic second decade of the twenty-first century closes and we embark on an uncertain third. The COVID-19 pandemic that decimated the United States when callousness, irresponsibility, and greed trumped public health revealed starkly the lack of humanity among the powerful. At the time of this writing, 200,000 people have died in the United States from a virus whose transmission was significantly preventable. Many of those people died alone, on ventilators, unable to be with their loved ones.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“Rather than show contrition and resolve to finally address racism in their ranks, those appointed to serve and protect our communities engaged in further violence against Black Americans over the ensuing months, as well as nightly displays of unapologetic—indeed deliberate, performatively cruel—brutality against Black Lives Matter protesters. Cruelty and injustice are nothing new. It has always been easy to export violence and suffering to the rest of the world when we don’t imagine that the victims are real people leading real lives that matter. Weirdly, the very technologies that made the world a smaller place, that were supposed to create a global village, have only made it easier to dehumanize—to unmatter—poor people in the more remote corners of that village. Soldiers launch drone assassinations halfway around the globe from the comfort and safety of video-game consoles on American military bases.*55 Pixelated videos of innocents blown to bits in mistaken air strikes elicit yawns by those who pull the trigger and tough-minded excuses by the generals who consider such collateral murders necessary sacrifices in the ever-more-nebulous War on Terror. There’s a common theme in all this. The unmattering of Black, or brown, or transgender, or Muslim lives reveals an ever-more-defiant and deliberate refusal to imagine or care. It is a cancerous empathy deficit that could destroy our species if it is not confronted with some antidote, and a vaccine to halt its further spread. This empathy deficit may be as urgent an existential threat as the climate crisis, even if it is harder to perceive and define. I think it is what really lies at the root of that ecological catastrophe. I see the Long Self Revolution as a revolution of imagination and care, of empathy and anti-cruelty. When you directly experience your own self as a vast and sublime and unique four-dimensional formation in the block universe, you realize that every fellow traveler on this planet is similarly vast and sublime and unique—like threads in a tapestry, both irreducibly individual and completely interdependent. Precognitive dreamwork (and lifework) makes it impossible to ignore or deny the worth, value, and real reality of other, embodied lives—including lives very distant and different from ours.*56 Our planet is a splendid, multicolored tapestry woven from the intertwining of Long Selves. (Probably our universe is too, in ways we will discover in a few thousand years.) Caring for the future of the earth first requires imagining that each of its inhabitants has a future. That’s what a Long Self is: someone with a future. Thus the Long Self Revolution is incompatible both with cruelty and with the resentful apocalypticism of those who deny that our planet and our species are going somewhere, and going somewhere better.6 In a way, it recruits the future to save the present.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“Over the span of the decade since I first turned my attention to precognitive dreaming, it has gone from being a perplexity I didn’t quite believe in to a fascinating intellectual exploration to (now) something a little bit like a personal religion. The original meaning of religion is re-linking—that is, linking back to some spiritual source from which we feel ourselves sundered. In Sanskrit, yoga has the same root: to yoke, as one yokes a cart to the cow pulling it. What precognitive dreamwork yokes me to, repeatedly and with always unexpected force, is my own biography, my life as a single, more-unified-than-I-ever-knew landscape. It has led me to believe that biography, not psychology, should be the operative term in the humanistic science—or scientifically informed humanism—of the twenty-first century. To characterize our inner self as a psyche is to slightly miss what is really happening, the nature of this thing, this source in us. This source “in” us is really the completeness of us, our wholeness . . . which means our whole story, from birth to death, as it is refracted through that moment-to-moment cursor consciousness. Bringing to light the hidden ways our biography—including our future biography—shapes the landscape of our lives now, and the way our lives now shaped our past, even perhaps our childhoods, is a truly sublime and awesome project of conscious, and conscientious, self-care. It is indeed a path of gnosis. And like any other gnosis, there’s an ecstatic component to it. Every precognitive dream hit is a bit like a hit from a kind of psychedelic drug, an exhilarating, vertiginous, spiritual and life affirmation. It’s like zooming in on a fractal, where the fractal is your life. Every day can bring new discoveries about the precognitive significance of a perplexing symbol in an old dream, if not the full-on closure of a time loop that began a day, a year, or even decades in your past. It’s always something unexpected, but it will be something that adds to the wonder and strangeness of your existence. The trick—and what precognitive dreamwork teaches—is focusing on and learning to be amazed by the haphazard, trivial details of your life that most people overlook,”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“The more we build the habit of allowing ourselves to be deflected by dreams that fascinate us but that we cannot yet understand—that is, the more we pay attention to and appreciate our dreams upon waking without knowing their meaning—the more we will find, later, that we have been actively shaping our past through our amazement at our precognition and what it reveals about our biography. And the more we honor our precognitive hits or confirmations, for instance through art or by keeping or making souvenirs, the more exciting they are and the more they will become a target of our dreams, and the more we will notice precognition happening. By building a habit of honoring your dreamlife, you will sow the seeds for amazing discoveries in your future, which then feed into and shape your past.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“You will increasingly have these kinds of sublime realizations about the block universe and your own unconscious role in fulfilling your fate the more you become attuned to precognitive dreaming. PAY IT FORWARD Earlier I mentioned the possibility of sowing seeds in our past for a better tomorrow via establishing habits of honoring our dreams and other potentially precognitive experiences. Among the positive values of Jung’s writings and teachings was his emphasis on honoring and commemorating the miraculous in one’s life. He encouraged his patients to draw or paint their dreams, for instance, and he commemorated his own synchronicities in the grand style that his and (mostly) his wife’s wealth allowed. For instance, during a period in 1933 when he was studying the relationship between Christianity and Alchemy, he encountered a snake that had choked to death trying to swallow a fish. This seemed to him like a concrete symbol of the fatal inability of both systems of thought—the Christian fish and the Alchemical serpent—to integrate each other. He honored this synchronistic discovery with a stone engraving that can still be seen at his Bollingen tower retreat on the shore of Lake Zurich, where he had found the animals.1 Developing personal habits and rituals to honor our dreams is an important part of precognitive dreamwork. Writing dreams down in the morning in a notebook dedicated for the purpose is the most fundamental part of it. But drawing or painting striking images from dreams is also a common practice. However you choose to honor your dreams, such honoring is a crucial feed-forward component helpful in manifesting precognition with regularity. As with any habit or skill we wish to improve upon, it is important to build positive associations with it, so these little celebratory acts of honoring can contribute to those associations and in some cases even serve as the target of our precognition. Some of these targets may become powerful personal symbols and associations that you will then find have fed back into your prior dreamlife.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“As you look at a recorded dream that contains your own gaze in it, you realize you are quite literally looking at yourself across time. Your own past is also closer than it may appear. Whether we’re talking a span of a few hours or days or a few decades, such an idea has no place in mainstream psychology or philosophy. Just imagine what it could do for our sense of self to have such experiences more frequently. Discovering some past dream representation of oneself looking back at the dream in hindsight is the most powerful validation of precognitive dreamwork as a gnosis: the knower is literally included in the known. There’s that serpent devouring its own tail, again. It is also yet another startling confirmation of the solid, block-like nature of spacetime: the past is still here, and more amazingly, the future is already here. The evidence is there for those who merely have the patience to write their dreams down in their journals and routinely go back to their dream records. The act of inscription is crucial, though. Even though I might well have remembered my Permian-battle dream from the night before without a written record, I would never have been sure of my memories, or sure I wasn’t somehow deceiving myself, and I would easily have forgotten a small but pertinent detail like the laser dot.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“The sooner we can face the bizarre fact that we make our past in the process of finding it, and find it in the process of making it, the sooner our attitude can become one of care for our Long Self in the block universe. Dream journaling with an eye to precognition—precognitive dreamwork—is the first step. But you may find, as you build up a corpus of precognitive dreams and come face to face with the reality of that Long Self on a daily or near-daily basis, that mapping out those dream connections and reexploring what may have seemed like dead-and-gone territory—your past life, however meandering it may have seemed at the time, however traumatic it may have been, even—starts to brings even more amazing rewards and insights than just identifying discrete precognitive dream hits. This is because even if we can’t change the past or future, precognition (and the retrocausation it implies) changes everything we thought we knew about both. It is redemptive. We see our past and future selves unclearly and obliquely. But in fact, the distance between you now and you decades from now, or decades ago, may be just a wrinkled piece of cellophane. When we realize that our major upheavals in the second half of life may actually have been the billiard balls deflecting us when we were younger, it compels a new kind of sympathy and understanding for that immature being we once were—and by extension, a new kind of loyalty to the person we will become. The Long Self is truly an epic composition, and you are the one composing it. Like a writer of your soul, your aesthetic decisions now turn out to have shaped yourself long in the past, and your decisions in your future are shaping your experience now. Tobi characterizes it this way: “I believe we are involved in creating the already-written lives that we enact.” To consciously manifest and realize this amazing fact, you must build habits of self-care. Recognize that care for yourself at other ages is not just an attitude but has a real effect, a real outcome in the past—and via the past, in your future. “This is the part of the route without a short cut,” Tobi insists. “You must do the tasks, you must care.” Tobi wrote in another email: “It delights me to think that all those times I wished aloud to my family that I could go back and assure my younger self and the younger selves of my family members that we got through that time, that all would be well, that we survived, that I actually was doing that.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“An attitude of care for oneself and others is what creates the fertile ground for precognition to manifest, and a conscientious, ethical mindset goes along with this. A growing body of psychological research in the area of prospection (thinking about the future) is worth mentioning here. The extent to which people feel a sense of connection to their future selves appears to predict how well they make life decisions like saving for retirement, taking care of their health, and so on.12 Prospection includes anticipating how we will think back on our present from a future standpoint—for instance, imagining future regrets—and this kind of thinking has implications for ethical decision-making too.13 The real (versus just imaginal) reality of precognitive/retrocausal self-interaction across time in both directions—influencing one’s own past as well as being influenced by one’s own future—elevates this ethical dimension of prospection to paramount importance in the life of the precognitive dreamworker and lifeworker.*41 Chiang’s thought experiment in “The Merchant and the Alchemist’s Gate” suggests that we relate to our Long Self with the same mindset that we treat other people—with care and compassion (like Hassan) or else instrumentally and exploitatively (like Ajib)—and that our life choices reflect that basic attitude with which we approach other-as-self and self-as-other. It benefits our own success and that of our fellows to be able to imagine ourselves as Long Selves.14 A principle can be formulated here, and it’s Principle #22: Conscientiousness and an attitude of care (for self and others) may be essential for manifesting precognition, or at least for doing so consistently.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“The main character, a musician named Nicholas Brady, experiences being visited at night by a figure standing next to his bed and gazing down benevolently. “He had the impression that the figure, himself, had come back from the future, perhaps from a point vastly far ahead, to make certain that he, his prior self, was doing okay at a critical time in his life. The impression was distinct and strong and he could not rid himself of it.”4 In his classic 1954 book about a profound experience using mescaline, The Doors of Perception, Aldous Huxley speculated that the brain served as a kind of filter or reducing valve for a more expanded, potentially omniscient consciousness he called Mind at Large.5 Increased understanding of the brain, altered states, and sleep states since that time has made it possible to push the kinds of questions Huxley asked about that reducing valve, and the special situations that may open or widen it, as well as the precognitive nature of some perceptual distortions and hallucinations, such as those that Dick chronicled and drew upon for his fiction. Expanding on Huxley’s insights, the writer Anthony Peake speculates that so-called REM intrusions in semi-awake states on the edge of sleep—as well as waking hallucinations experienced most commonly by people with neurological disorders and mental illness—reflect openings to our vaster consciousness, an inner guide he calls the Daemon.6 The Daemon, he notes, is often precognitive (among other things). What I am calling the Long Self is analogous to Peake’s Daemon, but I am placing greater emphasis on the biographical dimensions of this expanded sense of who we are. What precognitive dreams and dream-like phenomena suggest to me is the possibility that what Huxley called Mind at Large, and what mystics and shamans have often described as other realities and spirit worlds, may (at least partly) be our own transfigured lives, our biographies as they still lay untraversed and unlived ahead of us, including all the people and situations and emotions we have yet to encounter and experience. The reducing valve, in other words, might be a temporal thing, reducing our Long Self to something manageable by the mind in the moment, reflecting and refracting our entire biography through the present moment of conscious awareness. People who experience visitations by guardian protectors in dreams or waking visions may be unlikely to interpret these experiences as encounters with their future selves. It’s not an intuitive idea. They may interpret them instead in spiritual terms, as divine messengers. The Jungian tradition in psychotherapy, on the other hand, interprets them as split-off parts of the self. The Jungian analyst and writer Donald Kalsched describes an inner self-care system through which patients traumatized in childhood cordon off and protect a portion of the self from harm.7 That sequestered “regressed self”8 may reappear in dreams throughout life”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“I don’t make any grand theological claims for the dreaming mind, but I do think that in our dreams we are like Jacob on the shore of the Jabbok, wrestling with a presence that is unrecognized and unknown and that may even injure us slightly, yet in some obscure way does so for our greater good. It is our own future self we are wrestling with. It is only a wrestling match, a striving, when we don’t grasp its identity, and thus see it as an enemy or an alien trickster in our life. When we more correctly perceive its intent as one of care and compassion, looking out for our well-being and our success, then it may truly assume a more angelic aspect.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“It is important to register this ethical concern, because conscientiousness and a sense of responsibility and dutifulness may actually be a prerequisite to the ability to consciously access and use precognition, as opposed to experiencing it as an alien trickster in our lives. We’ll address this possibility in the next chapter.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“If there is no plan as such, but just what lies ahead, drawing living things and thinking beings like ourselves toward generally positive outcomes (most basically survival, but also other meaningful connections and rewards), then it creates a new vision of time, one that is always full of hope. The Italian psychologists Ulisse di Corpo and Antonella Vannini use the term syntropy: convergence on order and unity.8 Whatever we call it, it offers a wholly new way of looking at the meaning, and joys, of being a conscious being in a deterministic universe. Seeing the brain as a tesseract allowing future thoughts and emotions to impact us in the present totally reframes that eternally vexing question of free will, or at least the conscious will that neuroscientists no longer believe in. We simply need to “place” conscious will differently in relation to our actions: it would be in our conscious reflections on our past that something like the causal efficacy of thought actually comes into play. Our conscious will may really be what we experience as our hindsight reflection, specifically on our successes. Getting clearer on this may be what makes the difference between succumbing to akinetic mutism like the Predictor users in Chiang’s “What’s Expected of Us” and being able to say “carpe diem!” instead.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“That’s not radar—it’s something far wyrder. Call it wyrdar, perhaps. In Time Loops, I noted that precognition is a bit of a misnomer, since it implies thinking (cognition). I use the term because it is the most common and familiar term for future influence, but really we should define it as behavior oriented toward forthcoming rewards.5 It needn’t involve conscious thought at all. It might manifest as an urge, a hunch, or a gut feeling without any kind of mental representation attached. Waking premonitory experiences quite often produce positive effects in our lives, indirectly and unconsciously, via our behavior and via intentions that are unclear or that we are likely to misinterpret at the time. People who are highly intuitive may be especially good at acting on the kind of strange, senseless impulse that ends up saving a life or preventing some lesser mishap—perhaps by not censoring their reason, which will tend to get bogged down in finding rational causes for feelings and hunches rather than simply acting on those feelings. Intuition, I think, is just presentiment by another name, and being an intuitive person is just not getting in the way of this presentiment by overthinking our motives. Indeed, the kind of intuitive, spontaneous behavior displayed by Valerie or Mossbridge may be the most direct, important, and immediate, not to mention potentially survival-relevant, manifestation of the precognitive unconscious.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“But rewards and upheavals on the road ahead can and regularly do influence us while we are awake—and in many of the same ways Freud identified as waking manifestations of the unconscious: via uncanny out-of-the-blue feelings, via misperceptions of speech or texts, via slips of the tongue or pen, via songs that get stuck in our head—the lyrics of “earworms,” I find, sometimes relate to something that will happen later that day—and just generally via “random” thoughts and obsessions that end up corresponding to some imminent unpredictable encounter or experience.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“The word the Anglo-Saxon poets of Dark Age England used for fate highlights this ironic, circling, swerving logic; they called it wyrd—a word related to a lot of other w-r words still existing in our language that connote twisting and turning (worm, wrap, writhe, wreath, wring, and so on—even word, which, as writers know, is made of bendy-twisty marks on paper or stone). Wyrd, or weird, is the bending force in our lives that, among other things, causes dark prophecies to be fulfilled not only despite but actually because of our best efforts at preventing them. It also warps our mind and induces a kind of compulsion around more appealing-sounding prophecies, as it did to Shakespeare’s Macbeth after hearing the Weird Sisters’ prophecy that he would become king. When we realize that the Minkowski block universe, in its resolute self-consistency, imposes a wyrd-like law upon us (a “law in the cosmos,” you might call it), then all those antique myths about prophecy and the ironic insistency of fate start to appear less like the superstitions of benighted folk in the Back When and start to seem remarkably, well, prescient. And not only prescient, but based on real-life experience with prescience. Divination was an important part of Greek culture, for instance; it was even the basis of their medicine. Sick patients went to temples and caves to have healing dreams in the presence of priests who could interpret their dreams’ signs. They were not strangers to this stuff, as we now are. As intrinsically precognitive beings who think of ourselves as freely willed, the logic of wyrd is our ruler. We can’t go anywhere that would prevent ourselves from existing, prevent ourselves from getting to the experiences and realizations ahead of us that will turn out to have retroinfluenced our lives now, and this imposes a kind of blindness on us. That blindness may keep us from going insane, reducing the level of prophecy to a manageable level. It is why our dreamlife only shows us the future as through a glass, darkly. It is also why the world seems so tricksterish to those who are really paying attention. That we are interfered with by an intelligence that is somehow within us but also Other is the human intuition that Freud theorized in such a radical new way. His focus was on how this Other inside could make us ill; the flip side is that it really does serve as our guide, especially when we let ourselves be led by our unreason. Research shows that “psi” is an unconscious, un-willed function or group of functions.2 The laboratory experiments by Daryl Bem, Dean Radin, and many others strongly support something like presentiment (future-feeling) operating outside of conscious awareness, and it could be a pervasive feature or even a basic underlying principle of our psychology.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“What happens to a billiard ball, say, if you shoot it through a wormhole at its slightly younger self, trying to deflect it off course? A physicist at the Russian Space Institute in Moscow named Igor Novikov worked out the math that would govern a trans-temporal, suicidal (or at least self-inhibiting) billiards game (a sort of cross between billiards and Russian roulette), and he discovered something remarkably reassuring: physical law would actually prevent the billiard ball from inhibiting its past self. In fact, a principle of self-consistency would govern a wormhole-riddled universe. Even if an object could enter a wormhole at some time point B and emerge earlier, at some time point A, it could never actually interfere with its own entry into the wormhole at that later time point B.7 Two of Thorne’s students checked and found that Novikov was right: a time-traveling billiard ball cannot take the place of its younger self.8 (According to physicist Nick Herbert, it is analogous to the exclusion principle discovered by Wolfgang Pauli, which prevents any two electrons from occupying the same states simultaneously—a principle that ultimately makes the world built of tiny probabilistic particles solid.9) More recently, the physicist Seth Lloyd designed and actually conducted such an experiment using a photon and what he called a quantum gun—essentially shooting the photon a few billionths of a second back in time to interfere with its past self. He discovered he couldn’t. “No matter how hard the time-traveler tries, she finds her grandfather is a tough guy to kill.”10 This does not mean that time travel is impossible. Quite the contrary. It means that the time-traveling object encounters and interacts with its earlier self in precisely such a way that its later entry into the wormhole is facilitated rather than impeded. In other words, all possible paths of a billiard ball entering a wormhole would, upon exiting the wormhole earlier, nudge itself into the mouth of the wormhole later, thus completing the causal tautology, or what physicists call the closed-timelike curve. These days, quantum physicists like Lloyd use the idiom of postselection, a kind of informational-causal Darwinism that ensures that the only information that survives its journey into the past is information that does not foreclose its origins in the future. It’s not like there’s a Causality Police stepping in now and again to prevent grandfather paradoxes from occurring, or that time travelers need to step gingerly in the past to avoid disturbing things (a common trope in time-travel stories)—although they may in fact find that funny paranormal experiences impede them in ways they hadn’t expected. Guns might misfire at a crucial moment, for instance. (There’s nothing keeping you from trying to kill your grandfather.) But mainly, it is that time travelers from the future who survive their journey into the past are the ones whose actions somehow lead to the identical future from which they will have been sent back. Time loops, in other words.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“Dean writes that it was this passage that helped her understand her dream as being about her own “royal, individual self ” that was, as the dream showed, in the process of being born.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“Even in the equations that had been formulated to describe electromagnetism, there is no natural directionality to the interactions of particles; the equations look the same going both directions. If you looked at a video of atoms interacting, you could play it backward and you wouldn’t be able to tell which was correct. It is only in the macroworld of objects, people, planets, and so on, the world governed by entropy, that causation appears to unfold in a single direction. The second law of thermodynamics describes the increasing disorder in the universe at macroscales and is often seen as equivalent to the one-way arrow of time. More and more physicists over the past few decades, sensitive to the nondirectionality that seems to rule at the micro or quantum level, have begun to question the no-teleology rule. Recall that the tiny particles making up the matter and energy of the physical universe are really like worms or strings snaking through the block universe of Minkowski spacetime. Their interactions, which look to us a bit like tiny balls colliding on a billiard table, are from a four-dimensional perspective more like threads intertwining; the twists and turns where they wrap around each other are what we see as collisions, interactions, and “measurements” (in the physicists’ preferred idiom). Each interaction changes information associated with those threads—their trajectory through the block universe (position and momentum) as well as qualities like “spin” that influence that trajectory. According to some recent theories, a portion of the information particles carry with them actually might propagate backward rather than forward across their world lines. For instance, an experiment at the University of Rochester in 2009 found that photons in a laser beam could be amplified in their past when interacted with a certain way during a subsequent measurement—true backward causation, in other words.8 The Israeli-American physicist Yakir Aharonov and some of his students are now arguing that the famous uncertainty principle—the extent to which the outcome of an interaction is random and unpredictable—may actually be a measure of the portion of future influence on a particle’s behavior.9 In other words, the notorious randomness of quantum mechanics—those statistical laws that captured Jung’s imagination—may be where retrocausation was hiding all along. And it would mean Einstein was right: God doesn’t play dice.*23 If the new physics of retrocausation is correct, past and future cocreate the pattern of reality built up from the threads of the material world. The world is really woven like a tapestry on a four-dimensional loom. It makes little sense to think of a tapestry as caused by one side only;”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“UNKNOWN UNKNOWNS Associative binding of experiences in memory to create an internal chronology would also help explain why most precognitive dreams are only identified as such in hindsight. Even if premory is just an aspect of memory and obeys most of the same principles, the stand-out exception is that only with memory for things past can we engage in what psychologists call source monitoring. We can often tell more or less how we know things from past experience because we can situate them, at least roughly, in relation to other biographical details. We can’t do this with experiences refluxing from our future, because they lack any context. We don’t know yet where or how they fit into our lives, so it may be natural for the conscious mind to assume that they don’t fit at all.12 Again, it is natural and inviting to think of precognition as a kind of radar or sonar scanning for perils in the water ahead. A metaphor that Dunne used for precognitive dreaming is a flashlight we point ahead of us on a dark path. But it makes more sense that our brains are constantly receiving messages sent back in time from our future self and are continually sifting and scanning those messages for possible associations to present concerns and longstanding priorities without knowing where that information comes from, let alone how far away it is in time. Items that match our current concerns or preoccupations will be taken and elaborated as dreams or premonitions or other conscious “psi” experiences, but we are likely only to recognize their precognitive character after the future event transpires and we recognize its source. And even then, we will only notice it, by and large, if we are paying close attention. That matching or resonance with current concerns may be important in determining the timing of a dream in relation to its future referent. For instance, it is possible Freud dreamed about the oral symptoms in the mouth of his patient Anna Hammerschlag when he did because of a confluence of events in his life in 1895 that pre-minded him of his situation all those years later, in 1923—including his relapse to smoking his cigars after his friend Wilhelm Fliess had told him to quit. Again, his thoughts about his smoking may have been the short circuit or thematic resonance between these two distant points in his life, precipitating the dream. Incidentally, there is no reason to assume that that single dream of Freud’s was the only one in his life about his cancer and surgeries. Multiple dreams may point to the same experience via multiple symbolic or associative avenues, so it would be expected that some of Freud’s later dreams, especially closer to 1923, may have also related to the same experiences. We’ll never know, of course. But dreamers frequently report multiple precognitive dreams targeting the same later upheaval in their lives, especially major experiences like health crises and life milestones.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“But given all the inherent limitations in recording dreams, interpreting them, comparing them to subsequent and prior events across the span of a whole lifetime, and sharing them with others, there would really be no way to make a firm assessment of how many dreams may relate to future experiences, and certainly no way to make an estimate that would hold water scientifically. We have to appeal to the philosopher’s reason on this question: if anywhere near a quarter of them can be shown reasonably to be precognitive, then it is reasonable that many more may be precognitive and we just don’t detect them as such. You will seldom see precognition if you aren’t looking for it, and until now, few have looked for it. The worst mistake would be to assume that, since precognition is hard to fathom, the brain therefore finds it hard to do. That’s a fallacy. If you accept the basic premise that some dreams do relate to future experiences, it raises the reasonable—indeed natural—question: Why would evolution create a brain that reaches into its own future but only manifest that ability occasionally? Might all dreams be precognitive? It may really be a mistake to speak of precognitive dreams as some distinct set of dreams targeting a future event versus one in the past. Dunne suspected that dreams draw equally on past and future experiences.5 Again, dreams that seem to be about past experiences, per our cultural assumptions or per some standard dream theory like Freud’s, could simply be using past bricks (identifiable items and experiences in memory) to pre-present some future experience that goes unnoticed by the dreamer or dream researcher. Thus, coming to some realistic estimate of the true prevalence of dream precognition is the kind of question that is going to require many precognitive dreamworkers sharing their experiences to help answer. The bottom line is this: we should stop thinking of precognition as something like the special holiday china our moms kept in a certain cupboard and brought out just once a year. Our brains likely use it every day, every night, possibly even every dream, for all occasions big and small. If the brain ever does it, it probably always does it. Principle #9 of precognitive dreamwork isn’t a conclusion so much as a working presumption: Assume (without ever being able to prove it) that all your dreams may be precognitive.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“the simple likelihood of drawing a connection between a dream and a waking experience dwindles with temporal distance from the dream. At this point, it is hard to say if there is any kind of probability curve defining some temporal sweet spot when you are likeliest to identify a waking experience relating to a prior dream. This is one of the many, many open questions that we need armies of precognitive dreamworkers with fat dream journals to help figure out. While the bulk of my precognitive hits occur within about three days of a dream, it is not uncommon to find hits up to a couple weeks after a dream, as well as at yearly intervals (we will discuss calendrical resonances in more detail later). Dunne recommended returning to your dreams up to two days afterward and thereafter discarding dream records. He lived before word processors, and since no one would have the time to check all their dreams on an indefinite daily basis, he felt you had to set limits to make your search most effective. In our day of computer files, it is easy to keep permanent, detailed dream records—they no longer take up space—as well as to search them electronically and potentially perform other kinds of analyses if you are really hardcore. But it remains the case that nobody has the time to compare their entire dream journal, which may grow a bit each day, to their entire life, every day. You can see how that could begin to consume one’s life! You have to make compromises. Revisiting your dream records from the previous three days for a minute or two each evening is minimally sufficient. EMINENT COMPANY In taking the J. W. Dunne challenge, you will be in some brilliant and eminent company. Some of the most influential writers of the mid-twentieth century, including T. S. Eliot, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien, were powerfully inspired by Dunne’s book, and some undertook his experiment. Most fans of Tolkien’s fantasy epics The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings don’t realize that the timeless worldview of his Elven races was based largely on the serial-universe cosmology developed by Dunne on the basis of his dream experiences.4 So far, no dream diary has emerged among Tolkien’s papers that would prove he carried out Dunne’s experiment systematically, but his friend C. S. Lewis, author of The Chronicles of Narnia, probably did. Lewis hints as much in a posthumously published novel called The Dark Tower, which is partly devoted to Dunne’s ideas.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“his classic 1927 book on precognitive dreaming, An Experiment with Time.6 Just a few years after Dunne began noticing dreams that seemed to predict future events, Einstein’s discoveries provided the beginnings of a possible explanation for this impossible-seeming phenomenon. According to the theory of relativity, time is a dimension like the three dimensions of space. Einstein’s teacher Hermann Minkowski realized that his student’s theories led to the conclusion that there is a singular continuum, space-time—or what is often called a block universe.7 In such a universe, future events already exist, as it were, and past events still exist. Although we can’t directly perceive it, objects including our own bodies are really cross sections of four-dimensional wormlike entities winding and twisting through the block universe from birth to death. (The particles our bodies are made from, like atoms, may last much longer.) The four-dimensional path of a particle or a body through the block is called its world line. Grasping that we are really four-dimensional beings opens various possibilities for how we—or at least our brains (what Dunne called our brain line8)—might send messages to ourselves back from our future. Effectively, through the particles making up our bodies and nervous systems, we are already connected to that future, like wires to and from our fate.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future

“Dreaming is the doorway—the royal road as Freud would call it—to a greatly expanded sense of your life on Earth—seeing that whole timeline rather than the myopic now that typically dominates our attention. There’s an even more mind-bending implication of all this that we’ll be addressing in part 5: if you are able to be influenced by some future experience via a dream—even just one that you took a minute out of your morning to write down—then by extension, present dreamworthy thoughts and experiences shape your past. Let that sink in a moment: your present thoughts and experiences shape your past. Consequently, the business of keeping an annotated dream diary lays the foundation for an even more sublime autobiographical project that I have come to call precognitive lifework: the reexamination and reexploration of one’s own life in light of the trans-temporal wormholes, i.e., our dreams, that transect it and periodically bring us face to face with our younger and older selves. It’s a process that actually makes our prior history through self-discovery, and one emotion in particular—amazement—may be the motor of this self-creation. In the process of examining this possibility, we will delve into various unexpected and amazing curiosities of the precognitive dreamworld such as time gimmicks, symbols of precognition within a dream.”
― Eric Wargo, Precognitive Dreamwork and the Long Self: Interpreting Messages from Your Future