There was a time when the dreamer was not in the stage play which was the dream. The dreamer was the witness. The dream was real, just as the rest of the environment was real. The visual processing of the dream, or vision, was active, a paintbrush with which the consciousness of the body, of the earth, translated emotional experience into a symbol based visual language. We experience it in dreaming because that is when it is not being drowned out by the surface noise of words. It’s there all the time. It is a language which does not lie or deceive. That’s why it gets drowned out. There is a reproductive advantage to deception, but there is also a down side. For example, it may prevent direct communication.

Right brain based language may be built over an even earlier language, as our more left brained alphabetic language is built over it. We don’t know how deep it goes, but we know that the old language is direct. I had read about some people who could communicate directly, but the best historical record of it I know is in the book, “Amazon Beaming,” by Petru Popescu, who met Loren McIntyre aboard the Jacque Cousteau’s research ship, the Calypso. She was a converted minesweeper from the British Royal Navy.

Loren McIntyre was a National Geographic photographer who was in the Amazon basin to photograph the Mayoruna tribe. Mayoruna means, “the cat people.” There was almost no contact between the tribe and the rest of civilization. If gifts were left at the edge of the jungle, they might come out and take them back into it. McIntyre put out gifts, and waited. They showed up and McIntyre started photographing.

They had their own language and McIntyre didn’t know it, so he should not have followed them into the jungle, snapping pictures, without knowing which way was back out. But he did. And they knew he was lost. There was what appeared to be an argument between two factions about what to do with him, the obvious options being to let him go with them, take him back where they found him, or kill him.

The head man decided they would take him along with them. It was this head man who began to speak english to McIntyre, a voice inside his head which he determined was coming from the head man, through some faculty which was direct transmission of energy, and which his brain was translating into english. He thought he might be going crazy, but he could not deny that it was happening. Later they joined with the rest of the tribe, where Popescu met a man who had learned some Portuguese from a missionary school. McIntyre told him what he had experienced. The man confirmed it was real. “It’s the old way,” he said.