A cart full of belongings, a narrow passageway, a gate that will lock if it closes, these are all the images of the dreamer trying to make progress into a new space. The questions then arise within: can all this stuff make the journey, or do I have to leave some items behind? Do I have the right key, or access, into where I hope to go? What last-minute impediments will arise that may prevent my getting through? This is the way of our journey, on an inner level and in outer life. Our dreams help us see what we are trying to navigate as we seek passage into the next elevation. (At the end of this post there are instructions and a link to download this recording to your computer.)
John: And then in-between comes all of this action, because you’re still trying to tune in the channel.
So, in the dream, I leave a warehouse I am in, and I’m pushing a cart with things inside that I’m taking home. As I leave this workplace, warehouse, whatever it kind of is, where you just go through the turmoil of things sorting this out and sorting that out, because everything is just kind of this, that, and the other in this kind of workforce of life.
When I go through the door into outside, I’m basically traveling towards something now, I do so by going down a corridor that has fences on both sides, and this corridor that’s fenced in, it’s not the main parking lot outside where things try to come to that, that descend to that, and go through the qualities of life that way. It just seems to be a different way of being, now, going down this corridor, that a car and a cart cannot pass, it’s that narrow.
That’s the situation. Before I can get to the end there’s a car, and at the end there’s a gate that has to be opened. And a car arrives and the gate at the other end is opened. And so I’m still coming towards the gate, and the car is going to be coming down through this corridor. And I can’t get by; cart and car can’t pass each other.
So I yell out: “Wait,” because I want to go through before it is closed again. Meaning, if the gate is closed, the guy’s gonna lock the gate, I don’t have a key for the gate, but I’m taking things in my cart that I apparently think that I’m going to need for wherever I’m going.
So when I get near the gate – when I was further back I could see it straight away – now all of a sudden I’m having to go through bushes and brush and branches and tree trunks. And at the very end I have to actually come down from having climbed up over this, that, or the other, down to where the gate is, like dropping down from a tree. And as I go through the gate, instead of this being a regular car that I do remember, but when I get there, it’s like a quiet little Suburban. And it completely blocks the gate, it’s backed up now to the gate, blocking the gate that is open.
And so I have to crawl into the back, cart and all, somehow, and come out the door of the car. And as I’m continuing on my way, having done that, the woman driver makes the comment about the tough times I have been through. And what comes out of my mouth as a surprised affirmative is: “You have no idea,” as I push the cart and the items therein on my way.
The intensity of this situation had me on edge and challenged my focus and intention to get through this. This is kind of like a report of things, now. The vehicle I went through is a vehicle I remember because it had a large sports engine, that makes a lot of noise, that I remember seeing coming and going.
The meaning is this is a rite of passage dream. The dream starts out with me in a controlled environment with not much going on, just going through the this and the thats. When I break out of this trance I start the journey back through a special passageway, and I have with me what I need to go home in my possession.
Ordinarily, this could be considered stealing, I suppose, you know, if you didn’t understand what was really going on here, or acting in a personal context or something. But, in this instance, it’s kind of like a note or a quality that I am entitled to function with.
The breath connection between inner and outer is portrayed as an area fenced in on both sides, that is not big enough for two cars to pass. I must bring the breath, i.e., myself and the cart through the gate and out the car that blocks the exit gate by going through the trunk and out the door on my way home.
This was a process that was tense in terms of breaking through, even though you didn’t think so when you started. It was like first you had the reprieve of coming out into the corridor. And then, all of a sudden, there’s more to the corridor than you realize because you see the car coming through the gate up ahead and you realize, “Oh my gosh, the gate’s going to be locked,” and then what am I going to do because you hadn’t accounted for that.
And then you realize that you have to go through that gate that has been opened by this car that’s able to come down, the car being the outbreath coming down, and that gate being the zone that takes you into the stillness, bringing something into, and the corridor itself being the traveling towards God, in an inbreath way.
And that place that you hit, having gone through the gate, is akin to a type of stillness, not quite the stillness, yet. Still not really there, but closer. Because I’m still pushing a cart, and that’s where the interval where the inbreath turns to the outbreath is at, yet, just to get to this point, I still am in this “you have no idea” business.
To download this file, Right Click (for PCs) or Control Click (for Macs) and Save: The Passageway