I start out on a trek, following a trail that goes up and down over hilly terrain. I’m not sure what causes something to change, but I suddenly feel compelled to speed up.
As I notice this, a woman behind me says, “Well, I know not to try and get in front of you.”
Until she made the comment, I had no idea there was anyone behind me. I thought I was going along at a balanced pace, but then I realized that I must have been going slowly, not even conscious that I was having an effect upon someone behind me.
Anyway, the stigma of her comment causes me to notice that I was moving slowly along a fairly ordinary stretch of trail. In other words, it has ups and downs, but none of the big loops that you had in your roller coaster image (see The Adventure).
Not really knowing what I did to cause this comment, it seems to compel me to noticeably pick up the pace. Then, almost immediately, I come to a loop in the trail where it starts to do something like what you described in your roller coaster. It’s a spot in the trail where people have to slow down, and they tend to get hung up there.
I’m catching up with the people who are strung out along this curve, and I have the ability to pass them by, as if there is a simple shortcut I can just find in stride that is okay for me to take.
The next thing I know is that I’m treating the ups and downs almost like I was on a pogo stick. I can sweep by the curve where people are getting congested, then I can leap down an incline as if I would come down on the spring and bounce up.
I felt no danger to it, but most people would look and think, “Oh my gosh, that’s a huge drop!” But I would hit it and just bounce back up.
Then I reached a point in the journey where there was no one else behind me. I might come across people caught in these switchbacks, but otherwise I never met a soul. There was nothing compromising my journey any more.
This dream took in multiple levels, just like we discussed with your dream. In this imagery I learned where I needed to put my focus and where I needed to let things go. I developed that discernment by continuing to push forward on the path.
The first level shown in the dream was my moving along the path, but without any real awareness of what was around me or who was behind me. Still, something was able to get my attention and I realized I needed to keep my focus going forward and even speed up. It was a spark from Kundalini energy.
Although I couldn’t drop the Kundalini heat that caused me to sweat, I was okay with that because I saw how much I was able to burn through – I used it to burn through things. Without it, I, too, would have gotten caught up in the curves and switchbacks that caught the others.
When the Kundalini energy is tamed down, there isn’t the power or speed needed to break through and keep moving.
What’s also interesting is that there seemed to be a third level unfolding deep inside, but not quite ready to come out. Somehow it allowed me to grasp a certain depth to Las Vegas, and a sense of what has occurred here over the last ten years. This shocked me because I haven’t been to Las Vegas in that time.
But this third level blinked in regarding Las Vegas, as if I’d lived it – I felt I gained an intimate knowledge of what unfolded. Not the specifics, but an understanding of the energetics that sat behind, supported, or sustained what was unfolding.
What’s the deeper meaning of this?
Dreams enable a person to drop the linear view and perspective of our waking, outer life and see behind the veils. In doing so, the effect is that a human being is able to catch up with parts of themselves not otherwise accessible. There is generally too much internal noise and personal involvement when we are awake, so the veils filter our experience and the inner dynamics are lost.
Dream work can take a person back to where life is intertwined, at multiple levels, and it is possible to see what is occurring as it is embedded on these inner energetic levels. The challenge for humans is in taking the responsibility to accept the linkage, and thereby safeguard the underlying design as an ordained, divine space.