THE DREAMER PROJECT
Questions in Progress
The Dreamer Project is a creative consciousness study — a secular experiment in perception, not a doctrine. The questions below are the ones people most often bring when they first encounter the work. They’re not settled with final answers; each is an opening into testing what shifts when we treat consciousness as primary.
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Last updated: October 24, 2025
1. Secular vs. Spiritual
Is this a spiritual movement, a religion, or a form of nondual teaching?
No. What we do is closer to what we call secular awakening. We’re not building a religion, offering rituals, or claiming authority over nondual truths. Instead, we try what happens when awareness itself becomes the lens — not through chanting or conversion, but in ordinary moments. These tests follow a set of guiding ideas we call Consciousness-First Principles, inspired by philosophy and science as much as by ancient traditions, but translated into creative experiments anyone can try. Imagine a conflict: instead of asking, “how do I win?”, you pause and wonder, “what if they, just like me, are The Dreamer of this moment?” Defensiveness softens, and the possibility of oneness appears. The point isn’t to prove anything, only to see what shifts when a single consciousness is allowed.
Why do you call it “secular awakening”? What’s the difference from spirituality or religion?
Because awakening here doesn’t require adopting faith, dogma, or ritual. It’s a change in perception available in ordinary life — no temples, no metaphysics you must believe first. We borrow inspiration from traditions like Zen or Advaita, but we set away hierarchy and ritual to keep the focus on direct experience. You don’t need to belong, convert, or meditate for hours. A single glance at a stranger, a moment of conflict, even a quiet pause can be the site of awakening when perception shifts. That’s why we call it secular: open to anyone, anywhere, without altars. One way we describe this is through Up-Layering: adding a new lens — like the possibility that reality is happening in you, not to you — on top of your existing worldview, so awakening becomes portable, not doctrinal.
2. Field Tools & Practices
Do I need to meditate, chant, or adopt a daily practice to take part?
No. Awakening here doesn’t depend on chanting, cushion time, or strict routines — although those may come later for anyone finding their own ways of testing a consciousness-first reality. We’ll see. What we explore are field tests and portable try-its — quick shifts of perception you can try in the middle of daily life: at home, on the subway, in a conversation, or while waiting in line. If you already practice meditation or mindfulness, these experiments can sit alongside them. If not, no problem. The point isn’t performance or ritual but noticing what shifts when you pause and ask, “what if this moment is happening in me, not to me?” There’s nothing to convert to, nothing to belong to — only explorations you can run for yourself.
What does it mean to treat perception as a studio?
It means daily life itself becomes the experiment. Every glance, conflict, or pause is a chance to try what happens when perception shifts. Instead of rituals or settings set apart from life, we use mind-states as the laboratory. The Four Cs Framework (or The Dreamer’s Compass) is one way: Captivity (caught in the story), Curiosity (open and observing), Chemistry (loosening identification), and Clarity (awareness beyond the story). You simply notice where you are, try the next “C,” and see what changes. It isn’t about climbing or fixing, but about exploring — watching what shifts when perception leans, even slightly, toward a consciousness-first lens.
How do you approach this experiment? What’s your methodology?
We don’t offer a path to follow — we offer a studio to try. Our work moves through three methods, each a different angle on the same experiment:
Systematic → reverse-engineering awakening. We look at the states of clarity described by mystics, scientists, and ordinary people, then work backward to test what conditions in daily life allow them to appear. This is the same process that gave rise to our Consciousness-First Principles: a hierarchy of perception shifts, drawn where science and spirituality overlap. They aren’t doctrines but premises/provisional principles — extracted as “X → Y” shifts you can try in lived experience.
Integrative → layering new lenses onto what you already believe. Like shifting from flat Earth to round, perspective expands without tearing down your maps. We call this Up-Layering.
Situational → tuning perception in the moment. The Four Cs Framework helps you notice whether you’re captive to a story or leaning toward clarity — then test a gentle shift right where you are.
These methods aren’t a belief system. They’re design tools for a secular consciousness-first study: experiments anyone can try. You might use them at home, on the subway, or in the middle of an argument — moments where the lab is life itself. The point isn’t a single truth to arrive at, but to see what shifts when perception tilts, even slightly, toward oneness.
If I test the We The Dreamer theory without believing it, am I still part of the experiment?
Yes. Belief isn’t the entry point — curiosity is. The Dreamer Project doesn’t ask for faith; it asks for observation. You can approach the consciousness-first idea as a working hypothesis: what shifts when you treat others as if you share one field of awareness — and their visible traits, physical or mental, are part of the dream’s texture that creates the appearance of separation?
Like realizing you’re inside a movie theater and can identify with any character at any moment, the method is simple: shift the lens and observe what changes in perception. Try a practice like Within Selves Interlinked mid-conversation, on the subway, or even in conflict — not to prove anything, but to notice. Even doubt produces data.
Both philosophy and science remind us that inquiry, not certainty, moves understanding forward. The same spirit applies here. Testing without believing keeps the experiment open — light as wonder, steady as curiosity, alive as joy. You’re part of it the moment you wonder, “What if this argument, this story, this moment — isn’t happening to us, but in us?”
Can I test oneness without turning it into a performance of calm?
Absolutely. Calm isn’t the requirement — perception is. The Dreamer Project isn’t about acting enlightened; it’s about noticing what shifts when you view the moment through the hypothesis of one mind. Oneness isn’t a mood to maintain or a role to play. It’s a question: what happens if I meet this noise, this conflict, this rush, as part of the same field of awareness? The experiment works even inside agitation. In fact, tension is one of its best testing grounds.
Stillness may come, or not. What matters is the observation itself — the moment you see separation soften, even slightly. That’s the data. You don’t have to look peaceful to study peace; you only have to look.
Could small, inconsistent practice still help me awaken to our consciousness-first reality over time?
Yes — because access doesn’t depend on perfection. The Dreamer Project isn’t a discipline to master; it’s an experiment in perception. If consciousness is truly fundamental, it can’t be locked behind schedule, effort, or belief.
You can test it anywhere: in traffic, on a walk, during conflict, or mid-scroll. A single question — “What if this, too, is happening in me, not to me?” — is already part of the experiment. Even forgetting is useful; remembering again is the test. Regular practice might refine sensitivity, but irregular glimpses still count. Each small shift adds data — not proof, but presence. If this world is a dream, awakening can happen in the middle of it, not apart from it.
If the world is a dream but awakening doesn’t awaken me somewhere else, is it not pointless?
Only if awakening is imagined as escape. The Dreamer Project uses “dream” and “awakening” as design analogies — ways to study perception, not promises of leaving reality behind. If consciousness is fundamental, there may be nowhere else to wake into. The point is to wake within the dream, not out of it. That’s why the Dreamer I draw in the practices most often has its eyes closed — not in denial, but in recognition that the seeing we’re testing happens from within.
In this experiment, awakening means seeing differently, not disappearing. The same world remains — dishes, deadlines, heartbreak — but the relationship to it shifts. You move from feeling inside the story to realizing the story is happening inside awareness.
This isn’t fantasy or denial. It’s perception research: testing whether seeing the world as appearance-in-mind changes how it feels and functions. Many traditions and modern accounts of near-death or expanded consciousness hint at the same lucidity — ordinary life, suddenly transparent to something whole.
So no, it isn’t pointless. The dream may not end, but it can be seen through. The shift from entrapment to participation — from “I’m in the dream” to “I am the dreamer” — may be the only awakening there is.
3. Practice Challenges & Paradoxes
Isn’t the faith to keep looking a form of faith? Isn’t this experiment a religion then?
No — what keeps this experiment alive isn’t belief; it’s curiosity and creativity. The Dreamer Project studies perception the way a scientist studies light: through repeated observation, not devotion to a result. The mind is creative by nature. It wants to keep designing ways to see itself more clearly — devices, practices, and questions that might improve how we experience life on Earth. That creative impulse isn’t worship; it’s exploration.
“Keeping looking” here isn’t a matter of faith but of method — the same drive that once turned stargazing into astronomy or wonder about fire into technology. We use that same instinct to study perception: what happens when mind is treated as cause, not world? Curiosity, not creed, sustains it. Doubt belongs here. So does imagination. The experiment doesn’t require belief in truth, only a willingness to keep testing what’s possible when awareness observes itself. This isn’t religion — it’s creativity applied to consciousness: the practice of wonder made systematic.
If the dreamer is my true identity, who exactly is doing the doubting right now?
That question is the experiment. In the Dreamer Project, doubt isn’t the enemy of awakening — it’s the texture of the dream itself. If consciousness is fundamental, then even doubt appears within it. The doubter and the Dreamer are made of the same awareness, momentarily folded into two.
From early life we learn through trial, error, and disappointment. Doubt becomes how the mind keeps its distance — proof that it still believes in separation. But in a consciousness-first experiment, every moment of doubt becomes data. It shows the very mechanism the project is studying.
So you don’t need to overcome doubt; you can observe it. Ask quietly, who is having this thought? Don’t look for an answer — just notice the pause that follows. That space, unclaimed and alert, is where the Dreamer sometimes peeks through. This isn’t religion or riddle-solving. It’s perception research done from the inside — where even doubt becomes a form of evidence.
If the theory is true and we are one mind dreaming this world, are you saying anything I think or say or do doesn’t ultimately matter?
No. The Dreamer Project doesn’t claim that nothing matters — it asks what matters when mind is treated as the source. If consciousness is primary, then thought and perception aren’t private noise inside the body; they participate in the way reality appears. That’s the hypothesis we test: do inner states shape outer experience?
This isn’t moral relativism or “manifestation” talk. It’s phenomenology — a creative study of how awareness and world might co-generate each other. When you notice a judgment soften, a tone change, or a situation de-escalate after a small shift in perception, that’s already data.
Responsibility doesn’t vanish here; it expands. If the dream is shared, every gesture, word, and even doubt colors the field we live in together. The experiment doesn’t free you from consequence — it asks you to notice consequence more deeply, from the inside out.
Maybe the Dreamer is one, maybe many — we don’t know yet. But if this reality is dreamed, the way we dream matters.
After trying, I just can’t see how this consciousness-first awakening is going to make me happier. What’s the point of escaping this Matrix or Dream then?
Happiness isn’t the goal — lucidity is. The Dreamer Project doesn’t promise comfort; it tests what changes when awareness includes the pain instead of fighting it. Up-Layering means adding a new lens, not deleting the old one: what if this, too, is the dream? The hurt may stay, but sometimes the grip around it loosens — like waking slightly inside a nightmare without leaving it.
This isn’t denial; it’s design. We study what happens when perception gains altitude — when even suffering is seen from inside awareness itself. Maybe the body still flinches, but something deeper sees clearly. That seeing doesn’t guarantee happiness, but it can change the quality of being alive. And that shift — however small — is the experiment.
If this is all a dream, why do the dishes still matter?
Because even in a dream, the dream still has physics. The Dreamer Project doesn’t claim we can escape the world’s mechanics; it studies what happens when we are lucid dreaming the world. If consciousness is the source, then dishes, deadlines, and bodies are part of its interface — the shared operating system of the dream. You can’t ignore it, but you can move through it differently.
Doing the dishes isn’t proof the world is real; it’s an act of participation. The experiment is simple: can awareness stay awake through the ordinary? Can you wash, knowing it’s still the dream washing itself? The point isn’t to stop doing the dishes. It’s to see through them — to find lucidity in the motion of the everyday.
4. Dream & Consciousness
I get the theory that consciousness might be fundamental — but how would we test it from within the dream it generates?
If consciousness is what everything appears in, then there’s no outside vantage from which to measure it. So the experiment happens inside perception itself. The Dreamer Project doesn’t try to measure awareness as an object — it experiments with how reality behaves when awareness is treated as cause. You can’t leave the ocean to understand the waves — you study the currents from within them.
When attention shifts, does perception reorganize? Does conflict soften, clarity increase? These are the kinds of micro-tests I want to log. My exploration isn’t somewhere else. It’s the act of perceiving within the mind-field of consciousness itself — every moment I set my attention to the experiment.
If consciousness is the field in which everything appears, why would it need to lose sight of itself — to forget what it is?
If all of this were dreamed by awareness itself — the conscious essence behind everything that appears — then forgetting might not be a flaw but the function that makes experience possible.
To fully believe the play, you have to forget you’re in the audience watching. When you dream at night, lucidity often ends the story — the moment you know it’s a dream, you wake up. So perhaps this “forgetfulness” is what allows consciousness itself to explore contrast, limitation, and surprise — the texture of living itself.
Each practice in The Dreamer Project, beginning with We The Dreamer, treats perception as a playful field of experiment — a chance to sense what it might be like to remember yourself as the cause of the world rather than its effect.
Could one mind — conscious, self-aware — truly dream this multidimensional cosmos into being?
It’s a bold assumption — and a testable one. If a universe can evolve from particles to people in 13 billion years, and within decades we can build AI that mirrors our own cognition, why couldn’t a far older consciousness generate a world complex enough to forget it made it? Time could be its depth, matter its resistance, and limitation its way of exploring itself.
The Dreamer Project doesn’t assert that this is true; it treats it as a working hypothesis. We study what happens when reality is viewed through that lens — not to replace science, but to ask whether awareness might be the field both science and imagination arise from.
Whether the cosmos is dreamed or discovered, the point isn’t certainty but curiosity. The test begins in seeing how this possibility changes the way we see.
If I begin to take the dream hypothesis literally, what stops me from making terrible choices since there are no consequences? Isn’t this hypothesis too dangerous?
It would be—if this were about belief. But it isn’t. The Dreamer Project doesn’t ask anyone to believe the world is a dream; it asks what shifts if we test that idea. The hypothesis is that consciousness might be fundamental—that the mind precedes matter. If that ever proves true, it could reveal a deeper identity for humanity itself: not as separate selves, but as expressions of one field of awareness.
That view wouldn’t erase consequence—it would redefine it. Every thought or act would ripple through the same mind that perceives it. Ethics would no longer depend on rules or fear, but on recognition. Until such discovery is verified and made public, we stay grounded in ordinary life—where choices still matter, pain still feels real, and care is still the clearest signal of lucidity. The danger isn’t in testing the dream. It’s in forgetting that the test is about responsibility, not escape.
If we stop judging others because we see them as equally trapped in a dream of illusions, are we not inviting chaos?
Only if judgment were the only glue holding us together. The Dreamer Project doesn’t suggest moral collapse — it tests what happens when perception shifts from separation to shared mind. If consciousness is fundamental, then the same awareness looks through every form. Ethics, in that frame, isn’t enforced; it emerges.
Seeing others as co-Dreamers doesn’t mean ignoring harm. It means recognizing that harm reverberates through one field — the same one that experiences care. You still wash the dishes, pay taxes, protect life; the difference is motive. You act from lucidity, not fear.
Human history was built on the premise that we are guests in reality, bound by external laws. If it turns out we participate in making the world itself, responsibility deepens. We don’t know if this perception could sustain order — but early tests suggest it softens reactivity and sharpens empathy. Lucidity, it seems, doesn’t dissolve structure; it humanizes it.
Are you saying you know the true nature of reality?
Not at all. The Dreamer Project doesn’t offer final answers — it offers try-its / practices. We begin with a working question: what if mind projects the cosmos, rather than the cosmos producing mind? Or, put another way: what shifts when reality is treated as if it were happening in one shared consciousness? The point isn’t to prove or disprove; it’s to notice what changes in perception when you try on that lens. Our ideas are drawn where science and contemplative traditions overlap, but here they function as premises you can try for yourself — lived explorations, not metaphysical claims. No belief or conversion required. It’s exploration, not doctrine. If you want to try this now, a simple way in is the Four Cs mind-spotting tool: notice where you are, try the next mindset, and observe what shifts.
Why use the analogy of a dream?
Because it loosens certainty. Everyone knows the experience of a dream that felt utterly real — a whole world generated in mind alone. Whether or not the world is literally a dream, testing it as if it were opens new freedom: roles soften, conflicts lighten, possibilities widen. The dream metaphor also echoes across traditions — from Buddhism’s samsara to Advaita’s Māyā to A Course in Miracles. But here it isn’t doctrine; it’s a working lens you can try for yourself. You can read more about these echoes in Why Dream? — a journal annotation that traces how different cultures have reached for the same metaphor. For us, the point isn’t to accept their authority, but to try the practice now, in ordinary life, under the name We The Dreamer.
Do you believe there is a single Dreamer behind the world? Or is it individual?
We don’t know — and we don’t claim to. For the purposes of this experiment we treat the Dreamer as a working symbol: a lucid, shared consciousness that appears to have forgotten itself and is, for reasons of method, useful to test. That choice is pragmatic, not dogmatic.
Contemporary philosophy and science suggest different models: panpsychism ∞ (consciousness everywhere, in tiny sparks), idealism ∞ (all things arising within consciousness), even speculative physics that question space and time themselves. We listen to those echoes, but we don’t declare them final truths.
Instead we ask: what happens if we try the single-Dreamer lens in lived tests? That might mean pausing in an argument to wonder, “what if they, just like me, are the Dreamer of this moment?” Often, defensiveness softens and a new possibility of oneness appears. The Dreamer is not a creed but a working premise/design probe: a lens you can try in ordinary life, no belief required.
5. Philosophical Position & Influences
So are you part of nondual traditions like Advaita Vedānta, Taoism, Zen, or Dzogchen?
No. The Dreamer Project isn’t a lineage, but it listens closely to them. Traditions like Advaita, Taoism, Zen, and Dzogchen — along with Western voices such as A Course in Miracles ∞ and contemporary writers like Annaka Harris or Donald Hoffman ∞ — all point toward forms of oneness or consciousness-first principles. We treat these as inspirations, not authorities. Their metaphors become raw material for the recurring inquiry, sometimes inspiring translations into micro-observational experiments and secular tools for daily life.
The process is closer to design thinking than to doctrine. As described in How It Works: we name traps, reframe them in clear language, and prototype small practices anyone can test. Each design is provisional, like scaffolding — useful only so long as it supports a shift in perception, then meant to fall away. In this way, philosophy and design merge: every practice is a creative experiment, not a conclusion.
Do you claim authority about consciousness or the cosmos?
No. The Dreamer Project doesn’t offer cosmic answers — it runs tests. The one idea we find most fruitful to explore is: what if consciousness is fundamental, prior to space, time, and matter? That question has been asked by mystics and scientists alike, but here it isn’t a belief to adopt — it’s a working premise to try.
To keep it clear, we write these as plain-English if → then statements: small prompts you can try in perception, not defend as doctrine. For example: If the world arises in mind, then conflict may dissolve when seen as appearance. Each hypothesis is provisional and evolves with experience. You can read the current list in If → Then Hypotheses.
The point isn’t authority — it’s curiosity. What shifts when you try the lens for yourself?
Where does your idea of a consciousness-first reality come from?
The idea isn’t new — it arises in both ancient philosophy and modern science. Mystical traditions have long suggested that mind comes first, and today philosophers and scientists still wrestle with the same possibility. Some argue for panpsychism ∞ (a spark of consciousness in everything), others for idealism ∞ (everything arising in consciousness), while the hard problem of consciousness ∞ points to the puzzle of how experience could ever be reduced to matter.
Contemporary voices like Annaka Harris (Conscious ∞) and Donald Hoffman (The Case Against Reality ∞) give fresh frames for these questions. We don’t treat these as authorities — just starting points. What matters is how they translate into experiments in daily life.
If consciousness is fundamental, does that mean studying it reveals reality’s structure?
Not necessarily. Knowing the mind doesn’t guarantee knowing reality. A video-game character can sense its world but can’t see the code, or know what the player is made of. We accept that limit.
Still, perception is where reality appears, and that makes it worth testing. Traditions and philosophers alike have wondered if consciousness and reality are inseparable — we borrow that question, not their conclusions. The Dreamer Project treats it as an open experiment: what shifts when you notice that every conflict, every joy, every moment first arrives in perception? You may not learn the code of the universe, but you can test the freedom of seeing differently.
6. Limits & Misunderstandings
Is this “New Age” thinking?
No. The Dreamer Project isn’t about crystals, affirmations, or cosmic secrets. It’s a secular creative experiment: a set of perception tests drawn from philosophy, design, and lived inquiry. We borrow inspiration from both science and old traditions, but only as raw material for experiments you can try in daily life.
If I follow the practices, does it promise peace, happiness, or material benefits? If no, why do it at all?
No. This isn’t self-help or life-optimization. We don’t sell strategies for abundance, healing, or success. The point is testing perception itself. Any benefit — whether a moment of lightness or clarity — is personal, unpredictable, and never the guarantee.
And why do it? Because the experiment is the point. A single shift in perception — noticing a conflict soften when you wonder if both of you are the Dreamer of the moment — can change how reality feels, even for a breath. That isn’t ROI in the business sense, but it can be a different kind of return: the freedom of seeing through the usual story.
Can this help me grow, heal, or live better?
That isn’t what we promise. The Dreamer Project doesn’t offer strategies for growth, healing, or life optimization. What it offers is a set of experiments: tests of perception that anyone can try. The point isn’t guaranteed results but the inquiry itself — seeing what shifts, if anything, when awareness is treated as primary. Any benefit is unknown, unpredictable, and not the purpose.
What makes this different from self-help or therapy?
Self-help works on solving life’s problems. Therapy supports healing. Both can be valuable, and nothing here replaces them. The Dreamer Project is different: instead of fixing the story of your life, it asks if the story itself is an appearance of mind.
It’s not about self-improvement; it’s about testing perception. In practice, that might mean pausing in conflict to ask, “what if this whole situation is happening in me, not to me?” Sometimes that shift softens the grip of the problem itself. We don’t promise healing or abundance — the experiment is simply to see what changes when reality is questioned at its root.
Does the Dreamer Project replace therapy or address psychological wounds?
No. Therapy and other forms of support remain vital for working with trauma, grief, or patterns that need care. The Dreamer Project doesn’t bypass that work. What we explore is perception itself: how reality looks when tested as dreamlike. Sometimes that shift can bring clarity or lighten a burden, but it’s not a substitute for psychological process. Think of it as a lab for perception, not a clinic for pain.
Is this an escape from failure or difficulty?
No. The Dreamer Project doesn’t treat awakening as a straight path to bliss. It includes stalls, reversals, and days when “I don’t know” is the truest answer. Failure here isn’t defeat but another door into curiosity. Progress isn’t measured by constant improvement but by noticing what shifts in perception — sometimes circling back, sometimes dissolving altogether. The experiment isn’t about escaping difficulty, but about seeing even failure through the lens of the Dreamer.
Can the Dreamer Project solve my psychological or life problems?
No. This isn’t self-help or therapy. We don’t sell strategies for abundance, healing, or success. What we offer are field tests in perception: experiments in seeing reality as dreamlike. Any benefit — whether a lighter moment in conflict or a glimpse of clarity — is personal, unpredictable, and not the guarantee. The point is the experiment itself, not ROI.
7. Existential Questions
Why even ask these questions if we can’t know the answers?
Because the asking itself changes how we see. Final certainty isn’t required — in fact, the impossibility of final answers makes the inquiry more alive. Traditions from Zen to philosophy remind us that wonder is often more transformative than conclusion.
In the Dreamer Project, questions aren’t puzzles to solve but lenses to test. What if this moment is happening in me, not to me? Even that single shift can change how conflict, fear, or identity appear. The value isn’t in arriving at truth once and for all, but in running the experiment and noticing what shifts. Wonder, not conclusion, is the point.
What are the big questions you’re really exploring?
The Dreamer Project is more a lab of questions than a source of answers. At the center is one of the oldest and simplest:
What are we?
From a design perspective, the experiment is: how can we test that question creatively, in daily life?
Around it orbit dozens of others: Is awakening personal or collective? One consciousness or many? Do we live one life or a wheel of returns? Does free will exist, or is the only choice to remember you are the Dreamer? Is embodiment a trap of separation — or just another mask of mind?
And if the premise of a consciousness-first reality holds — then even larger questions follow: does physical materialism need to be reconsidered? What does that mean for the identity of each individual, or for humanity’s collective story? Can we stop dreaming, or is lucidity within the dream the real task?
These aren’t curiosities to settle but vantage points to test. Each journal annotation, loop, or report entry is less an explanation than an experiment: what shifts if we see it this way?
Beneath them all run the most human questions:
Is there a way to live that doesn’t hurt so much?
 Is there a true way of seeing that makes this world make sense?
We don’t offer conclusions. We log the try-its, share the failures, and open the inquiry for others to try. The point isn’t final truth but the shift that comes from wondering differently. Wonder, not doctrine, is the point.
8. Participation & Reporting
Are these reports scientific studies?
No. The Dreamer Report isn’t peer-reviewed science or large-scale research. It’s a series of subjective logs — creative experiments in perception shared on YouTube as conversation-in-motion. They come from lived exploring, not laboratory data.
The aim isn’t to publish final results but to keep the inquiry open: what shifts when reality is treated as dreamlike? These reports are starting points, not endpoints. They invite you to try the tests yourself — because the first lab is daily life, and the first researcher is you.
Will you ever run larger studies?
Possibly. For now, the reports are personal and creative — but the long-term vision is hybrid: part artistic experiment, part research framework. We may one day use surveys, social media prompts, or even an app to gather shared results. Ideally, this work could offer raw material for more formal scientific research, while still remaining open, playful, and creative at its core.
How can I contribute my own observations?
Right now the simplest way is through YouTube comments, where the reports live. Sharing your own field tests, impressions, or questions there helps keep the inquiry alive. Over time, we may build other channels — but for now, every comment is another note of the collective record, another perspective in the dream.
Who else is exploring questions like these?
The Dreamer Project isn’t alone in asking whether consciousness could be fundamental. Across disciplines and cultures, the same possibility is being tested in different languages:
Academic circles explore it through models like Integrated Information Theory (Tononi, Koch) and conferences such as The Science of Consciousness in Tucson, where researchers debate whether consciousness is woven into the fabric of reality.
Scientists like Donald Hoffman (conscious agents theory), Annaka Harris (consciousness as fundamental), and Roger Penrose & Stuart Hameroff (quantum mind) propose that mind may not be produced by matter, but that matter could be an appearance of mind.
Philosophers of mind like Galen Strawson, Philip Goff, David Chalmers, and Bernardo Kastrup argue for panpsychism or idealism — frameworks where consciousness is treated as a basic element of the universe, not an emergent glitch of the brain.
Mystical and cultural traditions — Advaita Vedanta, Taoism, Dzogchen, Sufi poetry — have long described the world as dreamlike, with consciousness as its hidden ground.
Some organizations call for an expanded inquiry, like the Institute of Noetic Sciences and the Galileo Commission call for an “expanded science” that includes consciousness at its center.
Our stance is different: we don’t claim doctrine or scientific proof. We translate these inspirations into small, secular experiments anyone can test in daily life. Their metaphors become raw material; our work is to see what shifts when you try them on, here and now.
META NOTES
This page is a living document. Last updated: October 24, 2025
Created: October 1, 2025
This is just one doorway. Step back to Every Test & Tool and choose your next field test.
The Dreamer Report — YouTube
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