I Got No Cents, But I May Have 12 Senses

Day 5 of the International Association for the Study of Dreams (IASD) annual conference wrapped up yesterday. This was the last full day of lectures, symposiums, salons, and workshops.

The day was capped by a presentation on extraordinary perceptions and skills. Perhaps you’ve seen the movie Rain Man? The character played by Dustin Hoffman was one of the case studies referenced in the lecture.

The night was followed by the traditional Costume Ball. The idea is to come dressed as a character who has shown up in your dreams. As a newcomer to this group, I had almost considered coming in my street clothes, but at the last minute I thought of an easy costume that would work.

I came as Robyn Goodfellow.

Robyn Goodfellow was a character created by a contemporary of Shakespeare named Ben Jonson. The character of Robyn Goodfellow is the basis of the character Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Robyn has been transformed into other mythic characters over the last few centuries. In modern times he is represented in characters such as Zorro, The Lone Ranger, and, of course, Robin the Boy Wonder from Batman.

What he is at the core is a mythical representation of the Trickster archetype.

And throughout the last 10–15 years, I have had a series of dreams in which this type of character has shown up. There is more to this story, but that is not the main point of today’s article.

What happened in between the closing lecture and the ball was a dinner conversation with a fellow musician. A wonderful guy who lives in California. He had been playing music that day in workshops I didn’t attend and had also been part of my dream circle.

I wasn’t aware that he was a musician, and I told him I fancy myself a bit of one, too. At least a singer-songwriter type of musician.

What ensued was a discussion about why I do, or don’t, try to make a living as a musician.

He gave me two really good examples of musicians he knows who are absolutely making a living by focusing on their music. His perspective is that it can be done.

I agree.

It can and is done all the time.

That said, I asked, “Do they play gigs?”

Yes, sometimes.

“And do they teach music to others?”

“Oh, yeah,” I believe was the answer.

Fantastic.

“How about merch?”

I don’t think I waited for an answer because I rushed into my view on not wanting to make a living by selling and distributing stuff.

I am not anti-merch, but if 75% of your revenue comes from it, then what is the point? It goes against my values. Gigs are fine, but I have no Desire to Teach Music, per se, either.

In fact, I said I am not even sure I want to ever try to make money from music.

Try is the important word here.

Oh sure, I have made a few cents from our songs out on the streaming platforms, but nothing worth reporting to the Internal Revenue Service yet, that’s for sure.

In reflecting on this conversation, I think I have a better sense of what I was trying to articulate but couldn’t quite verbalize in the discussion.

What do I want for our music and the backlog of songs I hope we record soon?

I just want people to hear the songs.

I just want to give the songs a chance to make an impression on people in a positive way.

And by positive, I mean that the songs make them feel something important, or think about someone or something important.

The money?

Great.

But that’s not the goal.

You see, one thing I am for sure taking from this conference is that we have an abundance of wealth simply by being in this world.

We don’t just have five senses.

The five we focus on in our materialistic world are important, but there are other senses that perhaps we will better understand as a species someday.

And these senses are probably already present in the music we love.

Music might reflect our capacities for precognition, extrasensory perception, and most definitely our energetic connections and influences on one another.

Things are getting a little clearer out here on the Highway to Yeah, and I thank the wonderful people who made this conference possible.

It was a trip.

A groovy, groovy time.

And since I am okay being a walking cliché, I will tell you that it was a real dream.