Posts Tagged ‘consciousness sheds light in the darkness’

John: I had two short dreams.

In this first dream, I drive up to a large pull-up door. It’s a door that you could actually drive through when it’s open, but I stop in front of it. There’s something on the other side that’s colorful, that’s fascinating, that’s wonderful but, as far as I know, the door is closed to me.

Suddenly the attendant says, “Oh, what the heck.” I’m not supposed to be able to go inside, but he’s going to open the door so I can at least take a peek and see it for myself.

I’m standing just outside the door, but now that it’s open, all I see is a grayish mud. I’m told the colors on the roof are incredible, so I absentmindedly step inside to see them and I nearly fall down because the mud is too soft. My hand goes down and gets full of goo. It’s like a shock to my system.

The shock-like effect is because I’m not quite “getting” it. I never do get a glimpse of the beauty that’s being talked about. All I can do is hear about it. I can’t go through the door yet; the floor hasn’t firmed up enough.

This image is similar to the idea of being clear enough in terms of my own issues that I can look at others and see them for who they are, without any personal projection. This image I showing me that I’m still not there yet. What’s beautiful and colorful is still a bit out of reach.

In the next image, I’m lying in a bed against a window. It’s 10am and daylight outside, beyond the curtain. I peek out and see a person standing there, six inches from the window. I see a man’s back.

I don’t make out his entire outline because I’m groggy, I haven’t gotten up yet (it’s like I don’t want to create the contrast).

Then, all of a sudden, I feel like someone’s stepping through the window, like a person’s leg is coming in. My thought is to grab the leg and hold it so that it can’t be pulled back out.

But then I feel frozen, unable to move. I can’t lay there and grab the leg at the same time.

This scenario is creating the relationship between what’s on the outside and what’s on the inside. So again it’s like a shock and surprise. I can’t quite accomplish what I want to accomplish or see what I’m trying to see.

I’m not able to actually be in a neutral enough space within. I’m projecting biases around me and I’m finding myself comfortable being that way. As a consequence, that interferes with my letting go and being in the overallness, and I’m seeing that something isn’t quite possible.

So I can’t actually see the light (colors) but I can hear about it. It’s not quite soaking in, it isn’t quite firmed up yet, it’s still in process; I can’t step through the door.

I also can’t quite integrate what’s in the outer (of the window of illusion) and me in the bed. I can’t quite deal with that because they’re still two separate things to me, and to the degree to which I toy with that I’m apt to shock myself.

Of course what kind of a waking life scenario is behind these images? Well you could say a big scenario is the idea of the future, and in order to have a better future, we have to figure out how to hold this inner space inside, no matter what’s occurring in the outer world.

If we aren’t able to be empty in ourselves, then how can we expect others to find the compassion, and the recognition, and the coming together, and the intertwining, and the wholeness for themselves?

That’s the huge picture and it has to do with the whole. But of course I’m being shown that I even have difficulty from a personal standpoint in that I’m not even handling the little stuff.

This whole spiritual process begins with having to deal with the dark side of ourselves. Even in that we can get caught in the reflections of going back and forth and back and forth. At some point we have to take a leap forward into something that’s an overallness, or a wholeness. As one attempts to do that, the realization comes that the light is not necessarily what we perceived it to be, and we have to make another shift to realize that all the light is inside us.

The light we connect to isn’t some light that we find as a support in a collective way, as if there is greater clarity outside ourselves. We’re all created out of everything and we have everything in us. But, are we finding it? Are we working from the principle of the whole, rather than from the principle of figuring out how to pull all the component parts together? Are we acknowledging the fact that everything is already intertwined?

Read Full Post »

John: At first I didn’t even think I was dreaming – it seemed like I was actually seeing how information comes through. Then I realized, yes, I’m dreaming – it’s not a pure, inner dialogue.

For example, I saw that everything that happened during our trip to Egypt was relevant and depicted something that was unfolding. But what we saw on the surface could cause us to be reactive. Some days it was too hot and we were uncomfortable, and in many instances the vibration from the people begging in the street was severe. The trip, at times, actually felt a bit arduous. Because of that, there was no way we could fully grasp what it meant.

Therefore there were a lot of barriers to us being able to read between the lines and get something back, as a language, or a communication, from everything that was before us. Still, Egypt, seemed to be a portal to something else.

The distractions I just described happen all the time, in every environment. It’s hard not to let the surface events of life completely engulf us. Yet Egypt seemed to invite a certain focus of attention, almost asking if we could decipher what it had to say, or to appreciate it in some deeper fashion.

The way I saw this in my dream was that everything that happened around me had information contained in it. This information appeared to me as small pods that I could squeeze and they would reveal what was really going on at a deeper level.

If I didn’t acknowledge the pods, i.e., if my inner noise (reactivity) predominated and I didn’t realize that there was something more within the pods, the knowing of that would come to me as a dialogue, or a revelation.

In Egypt, for example, when I saw the children begging in the street, I had an appalled reaction; I let it affect me, generating an inner noise that deafened me to anything else. These surface mannerisms surrounded me in a kind of sloppy denseness, but behind them was something much more.

So these images have to do with an ability to pull events apart, so to speak, to reveal the deeper relevance behind them. It felt like everything was speaking to me in this way. I was being shown how to get the essence, or purity, from the situation, which on the surface appeared untouchable or unapproachable.

In one particular image, I was told that some strange type of animal gave milk – I don’t think it was a cow or a goat – and she would reveal her mysteries if she submitted to me for milking.

I had to have a particular focus that was clear-cut, and I had to exude a certain presence, only then would I have sway over the animal. Otherwise she would be wild and would maintain her separateness. This animal must have had 30 or 40 teats, and from each one I would just get just one drop of very pure essence milk.

As I was going around I saw that there were people who had some other pods and I would squeeze those little pods and their substance would drip into the milk, to give it some other essence.

I noticed that when I felt a tendency to get indulgent, the animal would get restless. She was willing to surrender if my intent was part of the flow, but if I started pondering things and trying to figure them out, then I caused a break in the natural unfolding.

This next image was the closest one to revealing what I perceived in this directed-voice way:

There was a series of images that were trying to direct me to look at them in a settled-back, quieter way. If I did, I would see something that I wouldn’t see if I was just identifying with the surface chatter, or with the outer chaos of things.

If I could maintain this quieter view, then I was able to experience a free-flow dialogue that indicated what was going on around me, i.e., how life was being touched, how it was awakened, and how it was revealed to me on this other level. For that to happen I had to let go of any personal involvement and be natural with this all-inclusive, revelatory dialogue and flow.

There’s also a deeper meaning in that there’s an impulse in my nature that sometimes causes me to predict things in a forceful or definite way. This imagery is showing me that when I do that, when something in my nature gets too loud, it veils my connection.

We all get punished for the loudness in our nature because, if we’re quieter, we can actually hear what’s meant to be. If we’re really loud, then all we’re doing is getting caught up in our own neuroses; i.e., neuroses that make us think that something relevant or important is going on in the outer and, thereby, excluding the more subtle importance underneath.

What’s important reveals itself when we settle back and take in the vibration, quietly and appreciatively, and note the subtle connections and flow.

What’s really happening in these scenarios is a violation of the flow, and this causes me to become ungrounded. Whenever I identify with the flow in a personal way, I’m disturbing the natural connection. If I were to stop doing that and let everything speak to me in its way, a most gracious appreciation for how everything intertwines would be recognized.

In a sense, my reactions take me away from the essence of myself. Everything is here for my benefit if I can let go of projecting myself onto it. When the heart is quiet and tranquil, creation reveals itself. It’s only in terms of the whole that a consciousness of connectivity is reached.

Read Full Post »