A Tight Grip

Sometimes even our best friends have to be a little firm with us when we are being too stubborn. This happens in waking life, and in our dream life. Here we have a dog, i.e., man’s best friend, in two dreams, and first he is going off on his own. Then he is biting down on the dreamer. When we remember that we are all the characters in our dreams – even the animals – we can see this as an effort not to give up on the dreamer. The dog is trying to make a point, and no one can help the dreamer but himself. (At the end of this post there are instructions and a link to download this recording to your computer.)

John: So then when I came to bed I had a visualization, before I fell asleep, that I saw myself going past a bunch of wayward looking kind of like maybe ruffians or something. And, as I pass them, I also go by a van that is theirs that’s in the area. 

And then as I continue on to walk across the street, in front of the van and across the street, the way I suddenly recognize that something is misaligned, wayward, even though I may not have noticed it when I went by them, and that the van is part of them, and part of me, is that I have this small white dog that I’ve been either holding on to or somehow has been staying close to me. 

But, as I head halfway across the street, the dog jumps away and runs under the van. That is when I realize that, if it is going to be that way, that there is nothing I can do; I must let it determine its own fate. 

And so the meaning is, the dog is my friend, the van is the epitome of a waywardness carried to an extreme by those parts of myself that remain disconnected in terms of a subtle remembrance. To denote the disconnectedness, and to hang out there, is playing with danger. 

So, in the dream, I come from where I was working, because it’s like I’m on a ranch, then back at the main building there’s kind of like a feast going on. But, in this dream, I’ve come from where I was working in the fields or something back into the farmyard, which is where something is partying, or where I’m staying, or whatever. It’s kind of like a gathering, somehow. 

My mother’s there, others are there. And so I’ve come back, it’s not like I naturally plug into this place; I’m used to being out in the field. And as I’m waiting for something more to happen, a bulldog comes up and grabs onto my collar. And so I use my hand to push against its snout in such a way so that he doesn’t keep increasing his bite, like a bulldog does – it keeps getting a deeper and deeper grip. 

And then I yell out the best I can, because maybe he’s even pulled the thing tight or something, And yet I still have to be careful and maintain a certain still position so he doesn’t grab the throat, or something, the neck. And no one seems to pay any attention to my predicament. I can’t move. And, as far as I can tell, I’m yelling out for my mother, but she seems to be deaf. I can understand why there’s such an amnesia. I mean, this is all so obvious.

And I expect her to be able to get help from the owner, or something, the owner of the dog, but she seems to be spaced out; doesn’t seem to pay attention to my predicament. And when I finally get her attention, she quickly dismisses the situation and I remain in my plight. 

And then, all of a sudden, I get a break: the farmer walks by. So I reach out to get his attention. And, when I do that, the dog gets a grip on my hand – sinks his teeth into my hand; to the other hand. The farmer mumbles something about what it is that I’m doing, to cause this to happen like this, and leaves. 

There’s nothing I can do. If I try to relieve the pain, anything I do just causes the dog to intensify its flesh-breaking grip. 

So I wake up unable to resist. In other words, unable to throw this off, with no one paying any attention. Wondering if the dog will keep intensifying its grip until it takes a chunk out of my hand. And then what?

The dream is pointing out that there is a focus and attention I thought was possible in terms of the collective. But, as for myself, such attention isn’t sufficient to effectuate a change

that is needed. As a result there is a greater and greater separation that is taking place because I’m not in the same wavelength. I’m thrown under the bus, so to speak, as portrayed by the prior dream, because the dog is my friend. And there is no hope when such a criss-crossed waywardness predominates. 

Deeper meaning: what I am noticing cannot be communicated to a situation that lies before me that is defined and designed as if it sees me in a different capacity. And so it’s as if there is some sort of setness that exists. Now is that setness me, or is that setness the situation? Probably both, which creates a distance in terms of how something can unfold. 

And, of course, my setness is that I think it has to unfold in an inner way. The setness of the Chisti’s is they think it has to unfold in an outer way. So there is a different orientation.

To download this file, Right Click (for PCs) or Control Click (for Macs) and Save: A Tight Grip

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