The vulture was considered a sacred symbol in ancient Egypt, and other cultures, because, among all animals, it could ingest things in their most foul state and transform them into food. Or, said another way, the vulture is among the greatest cleaners of coarse energy, able to transform it into something higher, something that can give life. Because energetically, as a rule, the coarse destroys the fine. So when we see the vulture on the tomb of King Tut, we can infer that he had such a human development that he could clean coarser energies because of the energies that were with him. This is high development, but something we are all capable of – even in a simple act of kindness or compassion, for a start – and a capability that this world sorely needs. (At the end of this post there are instructions and a link to download this recording to your computer.)
John: Now don’t lose track of what that dream did and, instead, ponder: is that dream any different than this dream, which his an entirely different storyline. And don’t let the bizarreness of the storyline cause you to cringe too much and miss it.
In the world, there is a coffee, that I’m able to drink, that is incredible. But this world suffered an earthquake, which changed things. Everyone still drinks the coffee as something that is needed, but they don’t know how to fully appreciate it because it’s contaminated.
For me to live in such a world, I have to knowingly let go and be part of an aspect in which this contamination exists, or endure this contamination because this is what is true for everyone in this world, but I also know better. Yet to be in this world, amidst the people here, I have to hold this space as something in this world, but not part of it. Not part of the contamination, per se; in other words, the two don’t necessarily twine in terms of some sort of balance. It’s not like that.
So I do that. I have the coffee, the pure, black, hot coffee that in this state is not contaminated, and can’t get diseased. And so, can I take this and be in the world, amidst the conditions that are here, and not lose the purity of this coffee?
So the way I do it is I have a way of pouring myself the pure coffee each morning, and then I am able to take and stick my spoon into a garbage can of common waste – of the collective society – and take a spoonful or or two of that and put it in the coffee. At first I would really cringe over having to do this, but seemed to be able to get away with it and not get sick, because deep down I could distinguish the purity of the coffee amidst the collective contamination that existed, and that the hot coffee was what made the difference because it could absorb and transform the contamination.
But little by little this exposure was breaking me down. I started reaching into the garbage for the coffee now, instead of it being poured somewhere else, and it wasn’t always as hot and fresh there. And then I would stick my spoon in and come up with waste from the garbage basket, but I still seemed to be getting by, at least maybe not noticing the degree to which that might be pulling me down. Because I was still in the world, but suddenly I knew that things were not meant to continue like that. The coffee has to be hot, and it has to be pure, and to take away the hotness takes away what is needed to absorb the dust that I am able to imbibe and transform.
So, to begin with, when I put my spoon in the garbage, I wasn’t sure just what would end up having to be mixed into the cup of coffee. That would be where the cringing would come in, but something about my focus and attention was such that when I was having, so to speak, a good run in the world, meaning able to be somewhere else, the spoonfuls that would come from the trash would like particles of dust and dirt. They wouldn’t be some untransformable rubbish.
Suddenly the day arrived, where when I reached into the garbage for my hot cup of coffee, what came up in my hand was not coffee but some other drink, and it was cold. It wasn’t hot. It was like a mocha; something too much had happened. It was different. I was suspecting that I may have been getting impressions and not getting coffee that was hot for quite some time now, but at least I was still getting coffee. But it was a coffee that, you might say, didn’t quite have what it took anymore. Yet I continued the practice of putting the dirt and the rest of the garbage by the spoonful into it – and gotten away with it – up until now.
But to now not have coffee, let alone it not being hot, in other words, not some little semblance left, but some other drink to put the dirt into, that shocked me. I had to stop. It meant that the ways of the world in terms of what was accessible from within had changed, that something had happened. I was shocked by what I saw and woke up from the dream.
Meaning: The inner and outer are possible in this loci, but to cope a person that is in this world, or is part of this world, in terms of the physical presences in this world, meaning that they as a physical presence they’re able to be with everyone else, must also be fully conscious of the true inner soul that is not affected by the density of things here.
This is something very difficult. It’s a really fine line in terms of holding that which is real in this place, while simultaneously being here amidst the dust and dirt of it all, and able to transform it, or to be able to not be affected by it which is the same thing as transforming it.
This dream is suggesting at the very end that such condition is shifting, quite how is not revealed other than to say the other drink that is not pure coffee, is cold, is something else. I’m not sure how that happened, nor am I sure that I can do anything about changing the ways, in some way, because something now is no longer being revealed.
The deeper meaning is that, in the world, there is a longing everywhere that I’m able to denote and this enables me to bear the heat and burden of the times. The heat and the longing are correlated. However, when the longing subsides, or goes into a combobulation, like a mixing, the effect is not the same. First it starts to cool, and the shift is subtle. And then when it is something entirely different, that’s when I realize the process has gotten lost, it’s gotten hidden and it’s lost the quality, the heat of something that’s the longing, too, and that the outer prevailing conditions have finally got to me.
To download this file, Right Click (for PCs) or Control Click (for Macs) and Save: A Lost Process