Not an Island

It doesn’t make much sense to try to negotiate with universal processes – in the end, we’ve only caused ourselves more anguish. In this dream, the dreamer is caught between two terrible situations, both seemingly unbearable. At an inner depth, we can make our challenges seem like insurmountable obstacles, but, just as the flow of water will always find its way, when we let go of our expectations and fears, a solution often arises ahead. (At the end of this post there are instructions and a link to download this recording to your computer.)

John: I had a really loud meditation dream, there was a lot of intensity to it. And, in this dream, it starts off with me revisiting the issue of going through, like kind of knee-jerking about, trying to make an energetic connection okay – something that is inclined to be a state of constant torture in its ordinary chaotic state. 

And so, of course, to make it okay isn’t possible without letting go, or escaping, from the herky-jerky, lack of connective, imbalance that exists wherever I look. And so I just can’t stand that; it’s something that I may have initially tried to shake off and couldn’t, so I settle back into it for a bit longer and notice that the pressurization, and the peculiarity, is a never-ending, all-encompassing onslaught. And so, I get adamant about having to move away from this kind of steady anguish. 

And so where I find myself is in kind of an area in which I’m controlled, in that everything in this area keeps me in check. Or basically functions against me. I know I must connect my heart to what is real, but I’m unable to do so on my own. Instead, all I find myself is in kind of like a prison condition in which I am not able to move more freely about, in terms of my natural nature. 

To move about freely involves being able to accept and surrender to my plight, which I can’t, of course, I’m not accepting and surrendering to my plight; I’m fighting it. The plight is I have nowhere to turn because I am unable to place what I see before me into something that doesn’t stab the heart. As a result, I am oppressed wherever I turn by everything I see, and by everything that sees me, which means that I am oppressed because a person is not designed to be an island unto themselves. 

If you’re an island unto yourself, and everything about you is distinguished from you, and you’re separate and trying to struggle with it all – those are conditions of constant, never-ending, oppressive separation, which causes you to travel away from a greater overallness and get swallowed up by the bifurcation. 

In this dream I’ve reached a point where I can’t handle that anymore, so I throw all caution away and attempt to escape the drudgery. I know not what I am doing, other than I cannot keep this up. There has to be another way. In other words, there has to be another way other than this sort of prison of the heart, in which I’m in constant shock wherever I turn. In other words, nothing is right. 

So I seek reprieve, but I don’t know what it is, and what it would look like, and how it would be, even if I fell into it straightaway. For me, the furthest thing from my mind, when I’m like this, is that I am intertwined with everyone and everything in life. Instead, I see nothing but confusion wherever I look. And what I see and experience has jaded me to the point where, unbeknownst to myself – because I have no idea what to do so it’s unbeknownst to myself – the sensation is that of having nowhere to turn that I don’t see isn’t just another bifurcation in some way or another – which means that I lack a  consciousness to connect to a greater overallness. And, without that, I am left oppressed in a separation and a segregation. 

So in the dream I break free of where I’m at and attempt to make a getaway that is futile in that censors I seek to defy are everywhere, which means that I’m easily picked up and noted. It’s not like I can establish anything that isn’t recognized right away. And so in the dream I see myself skating along the side of an embankment to elude my captors. It’s a straight up embankment and, somehow or another, I’m on it. 

And I seem to be okay on the side, even though it’s straight up, and as I keep going across it might even seem to be tilted even more, so I know I can’t keep this up forever, even though I’m okay at the moment. But my sidekick shadow is caught at the bottom. So I climb to the very top and go over and make a dash for an uncivilized wooded area, where, the hope is, that my oppressors don’t have any monitors or control over. 

When I go into the place what I find is a sickness and dire condition everywhere. In other words, I find myself walking around people that are just all diseased and dying or dead. I can’t stand this, and can’t wait to escape through all of this zone of inner confusion. In doing so, I am back into trying to hide my aloneness from a censor scenario that’s everywhere else. It’s in every environment, but is, apparently, discarded or not paying any attention and let this decay. 

Even the censors, having taken over the area, would have manipulated and stabilized things. In this particular case, people that are left on their own may have a kind of sense of something, but it’s in a confusion. And so they’re suffering and dying in another way. 

So after escaping and coming through this, I realize, you know, I can’t cope out here. And I know what this is like. Because I know that this makes no sense, and all of this is still being based upon the fact that I am treating myself as separate in an illusion, which is all I know, apparently, the two sides of it: one of it’s oppressed, and the other one’s dire in terms of just dying out even, and sick, that I decide to dovetail back into the place where the conditions exist for those that are dying – might as well be lepers, so to speak, of society, because they aren’t really torturing the heart, they’re just torturing the physical. 

So when I go back into the area, this time the first person I see is the warden of the institution. He actually looks a little familiar. In the instant where it looks like I have this sense of familiarity. without hesitation he hauls off and he hits me in the jaw and knocks me on the ground. He makes it clear I’m not to be here. I get up from the ground and volunteer my time, in this place, for a year at no pay. It is the best offer I know how to make under the circumstances. He accepts. I wake up.

To download this file, Right Click (for PCs) or Control Click (for Macs) and Save: Not an Island

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