From a dream I once had and wrote about:

The realization of how ignorant one is can be almost painful. More so when you wake up still having that feeling from the dream you just had. In it I was a novice monk, going through the hardships of understanding my own mind and the very fabric of the universe. The silence is maddening to the point that you don't know whether there is sound or not, or if you're having an hallucination instead. But I could sense my effort. And I could watch all the others around me doing the same. They lie still, but their expressions are crystal clear: whatever their shut eyes are seeing, it is certainly not an easy experience. We are men and women, all in our early 20's, each wearing only a pair of pants and the occasional ring or necklace. Muscles strained, rigid poses. We stand in unison, and something happens. The sky turns dark red, the earth beneath us goes into a vacuum and we are absolutely disconnected from any reference aside from our collective energy. The floor is back. It feels like I just came back to life in the same way when you are falling asleep and suddenly jerk, as if reacting to a fall in some void. All the others are gone. I find myself in a room with a mushroom head like architecture in earthy tones and I see three passages. One is past, one is future, one is altogether different. The latter is the only viable choice. I tuck myself inside it and move, difficultly, forward. It goes up. I can't help but feeling like a prairie dog on the lookout, and a menacing beast takes form in front of me, in the distance. The menacing beast is wearing grey. It is startled, its eyes sparkle intelligently. “Who are you?” I say, hoping for some reaction, but it starts immediately running towards me and all I get is a vanishing smile and the grey that turns to greyer smoke.