Monopoly Players, Lucid Dreamers, and Astridur
Human adults can be divided into two categories, which I have defined as Monopoly Players and Lucid Dreamers.
Beyond all human categories, there is Astridur, who lives, floats over, and paints the two categories fused. But let’s start with the basics.
- MONOPOLY PLAYERS
Two famous Monopoly Players that can be found in literature are the characters of the King and the Businessman in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s book “The Little Prince.” For those who haven’t read the book (shame on you!), the two characters consider themselves very important and take their powers and possessions very seriously, even though they each live on tiny deserted planets. The King believes he rules over his entire planet, and the Businessman counts the stars, convinced he owns them.
Similarly, many adults, as they grow older, seem to lose their childlike eyes capable of admiring external wonders and miracles. They begin to embody Monopoly Players. Around the age of 20 (or 40, if they are Italian), Monopoly Players sit at the table of life and start taking the game very seriously. They lose the ability to see beyond the game, celebrating every time they earn 4000 fake paper dollars and despairing every time they lose them. Killing each other for properties that exist only on a game board and that change ownership at every turn. Monopoly Players let their value be filed down or inflated like balloons based on the cards they have received, partly through skill, partly through luck. They ignore the fact that the game will end, that it does not really exist, that everyone else is also just playing a role, and that everything they fought so hard for will be put back in the box at the end of the game.
2. LUCID DREAMERS
In contrast to Monopoly Players, we have Lucid Dreamers. Lucid dreaming is a state in which one becomes fully aware and conscious within a dream while sleeping, allowing the dreamer to recognize that they are in a dream and exert control over the dream’s narrative or environment. A good book that gives precise instructions on how to become a lucid dreamer is “Dreaming Yourself Awake” by Alan Wallace.
Many adults experience reality as if they were in a lucid dream. The parallels between life and lucid dreams are numerous: at some point, everything will end, many details will be forgotten immediately, the person having the experience has total freedom of choice, and the consequences will never be worse than expected. Like in a posthumous interpretation upon waking, Lucid Dreamers of Life can seek meaning even within a context seemingly lacking sense.
In this context, nothing is permanent or serious; you can collect jobs, experiences, places, loves, and marriages like stickers. Carl Jung would classify my Lucid Dreamer as a Puer Aeternus.
A literary character that greatly resembles my Lucid Dreamer is Dr. Heinrich Faust in Goethe’s work. Faust is an ambitious scholar dissatisfied with his life, seeking deeper knowledge and a more fulfilling experience. In Goethe’s drama, Faust is tempted by the devil, Mephistopheles, who offers him power, wealth, and earthly pleasures in exchange for his soul. I won’t spoil the ending of the book, but Faust’s eternal dissatisfaction and search have much in common with today’s Western youth who never truly commit to any mission, accumulating vast but superficial quantities of knowledge, without ever finding anything relevant. Because if life is just a dream without rules, nothing is important, nothing touches you, and like Faust, you never say to the moment, “Stop! You are so beautiful!”
3. ASTRIDUR
A writer may believe she has a certain talent until she finds herself trying to describe Astridur, a creature that cannot be captured and pinned down, except within the framework of an Artist.
Astridur is a multifaceted, interdisciplinary, Italian-Icelandic artist. She paints pictures of fabrics and draperies, but she also lives wrapped inside these fabrics. To truly and intimately feel the shapes she paints, she also teaches and performs Aerial Silk Acrobatics, defying gravity by creating knots around her body and twirling like a dragonfly 10 meters above the ground.
After completing five years of study at the Academy of Fine Arts, every day she has spent six hours sitting in her studio painting, for 15 years, performing Aerial Skills the rest of her time. Without an economic reward, without company, and without yet having achieved the fame that her unique paintings deserve. But every day she paints for hours, her paintings grow closer to perfection, as year by year she becomes closer to embracing her true self.
Astridur is stunningly beautiful, with long blonde hair reaching down to her waist. She could have easily offered herself up to social media like a piece of meat, as many have done in their quests to become famous. Alternatively, she could be inventing aerial twists and astonishing performances to win the applause of a bored and incompetent audience. But for Astridur, there is no trick other than a constant dedication to achieving mastery.
In contemporary society, there are improvised artists on Instagram or famous clowns who attach bananas to the wall. Still, those are just absurd stunts indicative of the confused times we are living in. Those who sit for decades in front of a canvas every day for hours and at the same time are working some menial job just to pay the rent on their studios and for their materials are Artists with a capital A, and no one else falls into that category.
Astridur doesn’t play Monopoly because she refuses to use her cards to enter a consumerist market which is attentive to sensationalism but indifferent to value and quality.
Astridur does not live in a lucid dream because she pours all of herself into every minute of her work as if life were a dream from which we will never awaken.
FINDING BALANCE
Is there a clear line between a dream and a game of Monopoly? What is so different between falling asleep and being born, and between waking up and dying? And why should we work so hard to build something in a world from which we will wake up? In a lucid dream, we would never do that.
I find a sense of balance between the Monopoly Player and the Lucid Dreamer in the elderly protagonist of Hemingway’s book “The Old Man and the Sea.”
The eponymous main character is a fisherman called Santiago, who has not caught fish for 84 days. Santiago spends entire days and nights trying to catch the biggest fish he has ever seen. Surprisingly, towards the end of the book, he manages to catch the fish and is enthusiastic for a while, but on the way home, the trail of blood from the giant fish attracts many sharks that eat away at the fish until only the head and tail remain. Achieving any goal in real life is the same. Buying a fictional property while playing Monopoly does not possess intrinsic value: the only value it can give you is to scream in your heart that you are a person capable of persevering in the pursuit and killing of The Fish. Or, in Astridur’s case, that you are an Artist capable of sacrificing yourself to spend three-quarters of your life sitting and painting, creating forms that have never existed before.
Having goals and achieving them is fundamental to having a life worth living. However, the goals themselves are not inherently important; it is the act of conquering them that matters.
You cannot catch the biggest fish in the world, without knowing how to play Monopoly and without years of firm dedication and knowledge of shared rules. At the same time, you cannot catch the biggest fish in the world without first fleeing automatism what you believe is possible, and the limits of who you think you are and what you think you can accomplish.
As we traverse the delicate balance between the structured pursuits of a Monopoly win and the boundless exploration of Lucid Dreaming, let us not forget the Astridurs of the world — the true artists who paint their reality with strokes of passion, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to their craft.
So, whether you find yourself rolling the dice on the board of life or bravely navigating the landscapes of your dreams, remember to inject the spirit of Astridur — the relentless pursuit of excellence, the commitment to one’s unique artistry, unwavering passion and dedication.
After all, in this grand symphony of life, the resonant chords are struck by those who put their all into playing the game, but refuse to be confined by the rules, and dare to dedicate their lives to painting their masterpiece on the canvas of existence.
All happiness depends on courage and work. (Honoré de Balzac)
