When I compare life to a dream I do not mean to denigrate it as some sort of meaningless fantasy.   Life is too wonderful to be called an “illusion” unless we whisper the word in amazement, as we might when witnessing the most astonishing magic trick.  What could be more magnificent than this glorious universe, in all its multifarious extravagance?  Its awesome vastness and delicate detail.  Its impersonal precision and intimate intensity.  Its harsh necessities and lush sensuality.  This dream of life is truly marvelous.

Imagine for a moment you are dreaming.  You are completely engrossed in the dramas of your dreamworld when a mysterious stranger appears in your dream.  He sidles up to you and softly whispers something extraordinary in your ear: “Pssst! Wake up.  You're dreaming.”

You are disconcerted but you keep your cool.  You know the best way to deal with people who are clearly out of the box is to nod politely and hope they will go away.  But the stranger is persistent.  “I know it sounds mad to you right now, but you're dreaming.”

You feel irritated: “That's absurd!” The stranger is unperturbed: “Is it really absurd?  Haven't you noticed how full of significant patterns and strange coincidences your experience is?  As if there is some hidden meaning?  Well, that's because this is a dream.”

You become angry:  “What!  Are you saying that this world is just some kind of unreal delusion?  I find that offensive.  Tell that to all those people who are suffering!”  The stranger is patient: “Of course this world is real.  It is a real dreamworld.  Its wonders are truly wonderful and its horrors are truly horrible.  I'm not dismissing it.  I'm simply pointing out that it's a dream.”