It might be useful to think of ourselves as processors of energy: we generate energy internally, we come in contact with the energies of others and of the local environment, and we are affected by larger energies of the planet itself, the sun’s radiations, and the cosmic energy of the universe as well. Yet we are not batteries, per se, we do not hold these energies. We run them through us and only keep what is nutritional, in an energetic way. The rest we release. This process keeps us clean and functional for what is next. (At the end of this post there are instructions and a link to download this recording to your computer.)
John: Well, the reason why you couldn’t remember your dreams last night was you didn’t realize what the theme was. And the theme was to be able to let go of all parts of yourself in order to be in a true state of emptiness.
And that whenever you held on to any kind of identification of yourself, it’s the fact that you hold on to some sort of aspect, or quality, of yourself, that you have the fodder, or the substance, for a dream.
And so, when we dream, even though we take and look at a quality of the overlay of an emptiness, we still can see, for example, qualities of something in the out-breath or the in-breath, and, therefore, there is a substance in that that may be within the manner of emptiness or stillness, but still something equivocating in some regard.
And so, the theme of the dreaming had to do with not having something there where you could buy into it, or get caught up in it, in some regard, that would cause an abstraction to exist. The scenario that triggered such a quality as the theme was the scenario in which one was sitting in the face of energetics that had a certain quickened quality to them, with a degree of letting-go humbleness.
The secret to the dreaming was, because there was that prevalent, there was the need to look inside oneself and know how to invisibilize, and know how to not have something that could be drawn out in some capacity that would be there for a kind of identification, because every identification results, then, in there being a part of one’s personality, or nature, that gets drawn out of the stillness.
So what one was looking at was a type of stillness, in which one had to be in, that was quiet, that was the exact opposite of action. So, to take and to see that this is what was going on is very, very, very hard to report because you might have innocuous images, but you don’t have anything of any consequence, streamed together, as a vibration, that depicts something unfolding.
It’s like a bubble, like a Rumi poem where there’s this bubble on the ocean, and from that froth is something that is a rising up of a distinction from the depths, something that has not yet been totally absolved in the ocean of the infinitude of it all. And it is from that froth that it says that a human being can come into existence, and be, you know, to have to live something, and to carry out something.
And so, the key is, when you are in a situation in which you are presented with this sort of thing, are you able to handle what you are presented with in a situation in which you are able to take a step back, and, so to speak, invisibilize oneself, or let go, in a way, so that there isn’t something that is triggered, or animated, or activated? Because when somehow one is triggered, or animated, or activated it is from that triggering, and from that activation, that there is an abstraction that one then has to contend with.
To download this file, Right Click (for PCs) or Control Click (for Macs) and Save: The Opposite of Action