Jeane: I lost some of my dream, but it feels mostly like I was wandering around the markets and alleyways (in Egypt), looking for how something flowed. I was looking for which streets had a little more space so that goods could move down them more freely.
Then I see this scene where there’s a turnstile to exit an area, and the teacher we are traveling with comes up on the outside of the turnstile. You’re standing in front of me heading through the turnstile to leave the area, and the teacher comes up, facing you, with a grin on his face. He takes all of his American money out of his pockets and puts it in a box that’s at the turnstile, and he grins.
John: This dream is about a missing link, in terms of how something opens up. Things don’t open up just because we put our attention on a particular perspective. It can sometimes appear that things work that way, but because we’re playing in a world of shadows, it’s not a real manifestation. There’s an energetic behind it which is real, but what occurs in the outer is only reflective of that, so in some regard we’re still deceived.
Your dream portrays this situation as a question: How is it that something opens up and flows more freely? That’s the space you’re feeling. Within you, you’re able to see that something in the outer doesn’t flow when it’s caught up. For example, when you’re trying to force an outcome, then things can’t flow.
The role of a teacher is to hand things off so more and more can keep flowing. There was a woman in Germany who took people on spiritual-based journeys involving our Teacher. Later, our Teacher basically indicated that he couldn’t participate anymore, so it was handed off to her.
Well, she got caught up in the doingness of that, which really showed in her personal condition when we saw her next, so the Teacher just said she should stop doing it altogether. In other words, it can really be asking for trouble to start playing in a zone in which there’s a hiddenness piled on top of a hiddenness.
So, what’s the hiddenness in this dream? The idea that something more can happen, which is not obvious or apparent, as a result of something being released. Who releases these things? Well the Teacher would say that he’s not responsible for anything; if you find yourself in a position where you have a responsibility toward something, then something has been compromised.
So what you’re doing is you’re looking at something, but what you’re not quite seeing are the levels underneath that become possible when something has been taken on or absorbed. So it’s like you’re at a turning point, which showed as the turnstile opening up something so much more.
The changes that happen in life are the consequence of a human being being able to facilitate the things that are meant to be in Creation, i.e., to catch that drift so that something more can happen. Not the “doingness” of it, but just catching the drift. The doingness just keeps things blocked.
There are three levels beneath what your dream is showing you. You’re dealing with the first level, where something is released so that something more can open up. You’re starting to look at how magic works. That’s one of the techniques and tools of magic: for something to suddenly change and come into a different way of being, there has to be a release of something.
So what is it that’s meant, and able, to come into being? Well, if you’re really quiet with yourself you can feel it in your bones, so to speak. You don’t know the timing – it’s ancient. You just feel it in your bones. You sense it, in the present, in this slowed down space of Creation (physical life).
That doesn’t mean that it manifests here. What manifests here is the stuff that’s louder, that we put our attention upon, that we don’t know how to be calm about. That’s what manifests here. And all that tends to gobble up the moment-to-moment reality so that the other three levels can’t peek through.
You’re having a dream about something. You’re looking at a general scenario and the only hint you get of there being so much more is when you see the teacher, smiling at the turnstile, freeing himself up of burden. It’s interesting, isn’t it?