Ship of Theseus

1909 Illustration by John F.Campbell

I experienced multiple selves in my dream last night. It's as Paul, a companion in my Cypriot hostel said, "in dreams you can see behind yourself”. In dreams you can stretch your legs, pace around to observe yourself. You see your profile, your hands, your feet, even the weird ridges on the back of your head. It is when you walk around yourself that you realize that at all times there are multiple versions of you. Multiple representations of yourself that spontaneously emerge each time an observation is made from a different angle. This is the liquid nature of the human condition, the never-ending flow of lived and dreamt experiences. A perspective that is defined as much by what is being perceived as to who is perceiving. In all evaluations of perspective, we must interrogate the observer strenuously, even if that observer happens to be our own selves. 

When one does not pause and dive into their own psyche, they end up living blind, blind to the present and obscured to the feelings of the past. For while we can all stop to imagine our own selves, we only imagine ourselves through the context of the here and now. So, when we ignore the here and now, we reflect through opaque lenses that lack clarity. Perceiving the present self within conscious thought is possible but far from easy. It's like checking the oil yet we can’t slow down the car, we must continue to drive while the hood is popped up and we lean forward as the highway winds blow in our face. We are the observer, the test subject, the hypothesiser, the control group and the out-of-control group all wrapped into one. We must cut into and dissect the sinews of thought yet not flinch too hard in case we ruin the anatomical investigation. 

Leonid Rogozov acting as surgeon to himself 

and removing his own appendix as he the only trained medical profession during a 1961 Soviet Antarctic expedition  

This is our lived reality, the unceasing conditions of existence. For all our awake lives we are forced to swap out sections of our hull while the waves come crashing down on us. The open ocean of life is swimming with challenges and rewards that require us to do day to day repairs. This daily maintenance is imperative if we are to not take on too much water. The easiest way to repair a vessel though is to return it to the safety and quietness of a harbour. The drydock of REM sleep is perhaps the best suited location to discern and make alterations to our vessel. 

It is a unique opportunity for while the brain is cataloguing its archives in deep sleep, we can sit and take a read. Perhaps that is part of the reason we feel so relaxed after a dreamy night of sleep, for it is one of the few moments we can simultaneously reflect and rest. We sit portside while we look at our galley, we see the barnacles being stripped back, the decks scrubbed properly, the sales fashioned anew, and while we sit there, out feet perched up high, we ask two most important questions.

Why do we choose to set sail back to the high seas?

And what course shall we plot for our maiden voyage?  

Barham, M 2021, Counter Arts online article, 6th September, accessed on 16th January 2024 , <https://medium.com/counterarts/the-ship-of-theseus-time-identity-and-memory-f6a6e2e815b2>

Lentati, S 2015, The man who cut out his own appendix, BBC online article, 5th May, accessed on 16th January 2024, <https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-32481442>