I feel that our souls compress among others and expand the fewer humans there are. I felt most expansive in the Yukon, most compressed in cities like New York, London, Istanbul, Kuala Lampur. The experience of being a thousand miles from others solo sailing in the Pacific was palpably so. The density of human consciousness changes one, bears down on them, creates a heaviness.
I love the Czek book, ‘the incredible lightness of being’. I have a psychologist ballet dancer friend in New York whose joie de vivre seemed to lift her from the heaviness of humanity despite her living and working in the centre of the city. Personally I feel the press of humanity and have all my life felt solace in the escape to the country.
In recovery the social component is becoming a part of the human race again. Alcohol and drugs isolate and disconnect the individual from the group. Our traumas do the same. The intrusive thoughts and the feelings of infestation and alienesss don’t shake easily. When you sleep with the devil or play with sulphur that scent lingers. After being raped and betrayed and rejected and lied to I felt paranoid, closed, unsafe. I have gone to the wilderness to heal. But in recovery the aim is to regain the comfort in community. The monks of old knew this. Today I go to meetings of others in recovery. I believe the church was and in some places remains a place where you can ‘lay your burdens down’. Yet too many there have a hierarchy of sins. The gluttonous and avaricious look down on the lustful and angry.
I dream often of a heavenly place which reminds me thoroughly of the Greek island Santorini. The buildings and rooms are white. The climate is idyllic. The people and me are all like those in my college and university years. The singleness of purpose is higher learning. There’s a quality of Godliness, that essence of Magister Ludi. It’s welcoming and we are mingling with adults and history and yet our common purpose of celebration brings us together as war and necessity are described as doing. There seems no past but only the moment. There are many mansions and many rooms and we can come and go to classes and feasts and activities, sports, dance, games. I always think of this as heaven. There is passion and love but I’m mostly arriving alone and joining the community which is fully welcoming. Some times I see my mother, ex lovers, father and uncles and grandparents. They are just more familiar.
In the Tibetan Book of the Dead the teachings is we reincarnate again and again but not alone rather as a member of a caste of a thousand or so. Each person plays a role till all the roles are taken. The whole collection of family and society binaries are played out like master and slave, parent and child, murderer and murdered all to be played out against in the next collective unconscious dance of consciousness. Now reincarnation was a teaching of Judaism and Christianity till the Nicene Creed and intellectually it didn’t matter in the time of the ‘cloud of unknowing’. We simply played our part the best we could and there were no end of rehearsals. Everything was one day at a time and no rush. Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Gandhi, Marx , the whole group of them were waiting till the last of us came home. Maya was seen as veils and creations were infinite as stars. The one became many and the many became one.
I also dream of another place that’s here in the west where we are all gathering in large groups in the woods and day lakes in the rural region. I remember the gatherings , the Strawberry Mountains Peace and Love Festival, or San Francisco dancing in the streets, love painted on my forehead in luscious red lipstick and flowers in my hair. The Rainbow festivals continue. Then there’s the camp outs and sweat lodges and RV Parks and church camps and YMCA and motorcycle rallies. These gatherings are in another dream and they are like the market place in Instabul or the labyrinth of shops in Bombay or Tokyo. This place seems to have money and ‘stuff’ and ‘experiences’. It’s a bit like a circus and I’m again in that pivotal age of passage from adolescence to adult hood. There’s a bit more disorderl and chaos. I imagine this is closer to hell or purgatory but it’s exciting.
Last night I dreamed I was in this place and I’d had the content of my wallet stolen. I didn’t feel afraid just that I then had to find those contents. This week we’d gone for dinner and I’d left my iPhone and credit cards, license etc in the car. Graeme found them for me and brought them back to the restaurant. I wasn’t afraid just annoyed at the time I foresaw I’d need to take to restore my ‘state’. Like the time I lost my iPhone in the Seattle Airport on the way to New York. Thanks to Apple I was able to get a new phone in Manhattan and have the information reloaded from the Cloud. A few hours detour from my schedule restored the ‘state’. I felt the same in the dream but it felt like. I was at this reception without a tie or something similar.
In the heavenly Santorini like place I felt that no one would notice if I was naked and there were those who might be walking about as such. We mostly wore white togas like Romans did and there was never any need for currency as all appeared free like an all expenses included vacation where as the ‘other place’ was more like ‘the world’. It was darker to and people wore all manner of clothing western and cultural. There seemed to be no commonness of purpose and individually there was a self seeking which all manner of individual pleasure being offered almost like a booths. I imagine the medieval art and literature depictions of Dante.
Buddha said Desire is the root of all suffering. The idea of attachment is the source of pain. C. S. Lewis said stop looking for God in the wall. The cult classic Lazy Man’s Guide to Englightenment by Thaddeus Golas focused on acceptance, love and enlightenment. Positive psychology today describes ‘joy’. Jesus taught ‘do not be afraid’ and the idea of Milton’s devil was the angel that preferred to watch his shadow than turn to face the light of God. This disconnections or what 12 step programs call the ‘ego’ is the problem.
In both dreams which are recurring there is no army war or police presence. In both the meeting and greeting and sharing is like the idealized ‘savage’ tribes of middle european consciousness. The glorified Islanders of Hawaii before they ate Cook. The simplistic projection of the adolescent idealistic mind that doesn’t know the superstition and self absorption or self centered ness of the primitive mind. Courage is doing the right thing in spite of fear while there is the idealized notion of ‘fearlessness’ popular with those who have a similar thought of ‘pain free bodies’ but they haven’t treated the third degree burns of a person lacking nerve endings so they have no warning system.
In lucid dreaming one can intervene in their own dream and last night wandering about obsessed with my wallet and identity and credit cards I stepped out of that was in my truck and camper doing 360 degree turns down a road nearly missing cars and cranes and coming to a stop without hitting anything now with my whole house wheels and wallet and crowds but an amazing lesson is Christ carding for the falling bird. There I’d been like so many times on the verge of an horrendous crash and been snatched out harms’ way by ‘luck’. I don’t believe in ‘luck’ but rather called that ‘God acting anonymously’.
Constantine removed reincarnation from the Creed. I wonder what it is about reincarnation that makes the most prideful to want to have their vision of the afterlife and the means to achieve it and the ‘rules’ of this game of life as their. Of course there’ ‘control’. I watched King Charles and the pomp and celebration of the Throne Speech and was amused to think that this was the surviving descendent of the Medieval Knights tradition. I saw that the organization of society was the same in Azerbaijan with Romance and Chivalry the same as the Shield Wall days of Rome. I loved Ender’s Game by Orion Scott Card.
There is only now and only God and today with the lifelike computer game and animation and holographic realities and AI people are imagining with a whole other robustness. I’m continuing in my gypsy mode, healer, shaman, author, philosopher, scientist, poet, dancer. I don’t know where I’m going other than ‘in’ and yet I feel I’m ‘okay’. I’ve a friend in ‘Jesus’. His teaching was summed as ‘Love God and Love your neighbor as yourself.” The present day emphasis is on being ‘kind’. Kind and kindred suggest that the ‘other’ is ‘you’. I am he, I am he, blessed spirit I am he is the Swami song of enlightenment.
I love that Adam’s in Dick Slaterly’s Holistic Detective Agency needs Thor and the old English Gods and finds them in nursing homes talking about the clean sheets and lovely buxom efficient ladies cleaning the rooms and the regular good food . He doesn’t want to go out to the wild with cold weather and harsh days. I supposed we forfeit freedom and individuality for conformity. The offer of the WEF and AGENDA 21 15 minute city is the well cared for comfortable cage. Soylent Green and all the futuristic series of the ‘benign dictator’ who morphs into Nero or Caligula. We have our new leaders , the Traditionalist Pope declaring all sex but marriage baby making sex unblessed. L’chaim. The war of weaponized jihadi children of Islam being fought out with Christian and Secular societies paying for those ‘fucking for Allah’ as aetheists don’t reproduce. The age of the Trudeau selfie and the claim that mass migration is necessary for GDP is just disruption and control. Scab labor . Scab voters. Divide and conquer. Favoritism for the in and exclusion for the out while all sing kumbaya and offer peace in the legendary deceit of politics and war.
In both my dreams there is peace. I’ve not lived in war. I felt the presecnece of God at Meteoria and Cappadocia and imagined those with the hoards like urban gangs surrounding and passing by. The laws and police didn’t allow me to protect my self or my home and I feel safer in motion. My brother lived here and trusted his society and felt safe from maurauders. I miss that peace. Even as a child I feared invaders in the Cold War and felt my Dad would protect us. Now I’m the old one and my back aches and I’m weakened with age . At the target range the tremor in my arm has made a pistol inaccurate for me. I must depend on a shot gun and laughed to see Stratham in his latest shoot em up movie using just that.
Thank you God for dreams and mysteries and all the entertainment and hide and seek with Jesus. Help me to focus on the light and walk upright and forward. Protect me and my family from evil and harm. Thank you for Grace. Thank you Jesus.
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