The Energy of Place

John: So, as a continuation of this conversation from yesterday (see The Energy to Change), I had this sense inside that I needed to shift from where I was and to follow another vibration. Basically I sensed that I needed to follow the shift in energy, rather than to resist it. And if we are not quiet enough to listen to those intuitive feelings that we all have, we end up disconnecting from the inner guidance that is always available to us, and through us.

I mean, this whole shift from the Northwest to Las Vegas came out of the blue. It would have been so easy to dismiss it, based solely on the common perception of what Las Vegas represents – you know, Sin City. Why would we choose to pursue a spiritual journey in the Sodom and Gomorrah of our time?

Yesterday we drove around, getting lost and looking at places to live, and the one thing that stands out is the view, the perspective, from that one apartment that overlooks The Strip. I mean, do I really need to see a view of the lights at night? I know that’s something interesting that I can take in just by looking within. I know that can automatically happen.

So, it caused me to wonder what there is about being able to just peer at this view of The Strip that is so fascinating. It’s not fascinating in the sense of sitting and pondering it as an incredible view. Instead, somehow or other I’m going to be touched by all those lights – the aliveness of them. It’s the flickering aliveness of those lights that has an effect. 

Now, I’m not even limiting this feeling to those specific lights, either. Yet somehow they create a trigger to other memories. I can still see it, having stood in that unit and looked out at the view. Normally I can’t see things.

Normally I don’t know what street I’m on, or whether I’m heading north, south, east, or west. I’m usually all twisted around. But I can still see that view. Not in specific detail, but I can see it vibrationally. I can feel the energy of it. And it will give a very different sensation depending on whether it’s nighttime or in the day.

Then it can take on a whole different dynamic. There’s a quickening of that feeling. When we joke around about whether other people could enjoy this city or this view, I’m not sure they’d know how. They might see it as a violation of the vibrational state we are seeking. I don’t know for sure, but when I contemplate the reaction of others I get the sense that it might create a stigma.

The other thing that causes me to wonder – and it seems very, very strange – is the idea of trying to keep the presence of the former owner alive there somehow. What is there about her presence? What has she done there that has set an energetic tone that is still there, and that I’m worried might leave or disappear?

I really can’t get clear on that yet, but that energy is important to the place. Will she drop it? It was so odd when we were there and the toilet was definitely running. When I walked into the bathroom, I jiggled it, and it was still running. And when we were on the verge of leaving I decided to point it out to her.

As we walked to the back I heard it go “kerthunk” and then it stopped running. As we walked up I said, “Well, it was running a minute ago,” and she said, “Yes, I heard it running. It must know I’m back.”

That was amazing. That was a very unusual statement. When you think about that you almost think that she maintains a certain kind of magic in her nature, and that that, somehow or another, is in the place too.

Stepping Off

John: Jeane has described two dreams from the same night and one had a feeling of delicacy, prettiness, and flow (see Getting Smaller and Smaller), and one was closer to a nightmare with kidnapping, and forced surgery, and genetic engineering (see The Factory).

Dreams during a single night are often related. In the first dream, you had an inner flow going with the envelopes getting smaller, but you stepped off that flow and found yourself at the university campus – back in reality – because of a name or a word that sent you off on a detour.

At first blush, that detour from the envelopes might have looked like something interesting, but as you went into it you began to realize that what existed there was not as interesting as what was happening in the flow of the envelopes. At the university, an aspect of you is tied up in that identity.

In the second dream, which was much more bizarre in its imagery, the real connective clue came at the very end where you indicate your frustration with the person justifying the treatment in the factory as a shortcut. They had rationalized that it was okay to gain something in such a way – it’s another kind of detour that’s also associated with identity.

You sneak into the factory, and you have binoculars, and you are observing what is going on there – at some danger to yourself because you might be caught. Every time we deviate from the flow of things, which we do by identifying ourselves too closely with something in the outer, we discover that what we think will be there isn’t really there. Whatever those people in the factory were gaining, or staying ignorant of, was not worth the experience.

Usually you don’t get such a grotesque image of what it’s like to go off on a detour. But the object of the process is to continually travel as far as possible, staying with the quality inside. We always have the choice to step off and take a time out, but the effect is to lose the flow and the access to the greater quality.

When you’re going deeper and deeper inside yourself, at some particular point in that depth of traveling, it can become too much. You could blink, you could have a fever, or feel it’s just too much light. The detour, or deviation, is an act of grasping onto something more tangible and more familiar.

It shows you still feel the need to identify yourself with something outward, something external, as you delve deeper into the internal. And that need is what creates the moment of stepping off. Once there, it may look fascinating and you might appreciate it, but ultimately you realize that the flow is so much better and you begin to say “No,” it’s not worth it.

That’s when a person comes to the knowing that the process of the journey is what it’s all about. I’ve heard it said that the right attitude for the student is to recognize and accept the journey itself, and not worry, or have expectations, about where it is going. Whatever comes up, comes up, where you are free of the identity that seals you in and cuts you off from the flow.

So your reaction to the depth that you are experiencing is to step off, landing at the university at Chapel Hill. That reaction is a defense mechanism that is still coming up. It’s like an underlying reaction, so it’s on a very subtle level.

It’s an attitude too. It’s almost like you really don’t have anything that you need to claim or hold onto, yet you grasp the detour just the same. That shows an aspect of immaturity in terms of the growth process of a person.

So the consideration here is the degree to which you have to step off the path and out of the flow. In your particular case perhaps you’re deviating because you feel compelled because you’re not up to the challenge, or because your nature is to jump into things like that as if you’d been dared.

At the end, you feel angry and frustrated. The university seemed interesting to start, but then it degenerated. As you probed it further it became more and more bizarre. The way you portrayed all of that bizarreness has to do with a kind of vibration inside of you that’s a little miffed that you went for the detour again and came up empty again.

So these two dreams show a really interesting sword battle going on inside of you.