Category Archives: Dream Journeys

Ghost Ship

I dreamt last night that I was hired to help manage a “special project.”  I spent some time with extended family before leaving on the adventure and enjoyed meeting some distant relatives I had never met or spent much time with before.  Finally, it was time to depart.

I arrived on the ship one balmy day, wondering what my assignment was.  The ship was iconic:  grey, darkly lit in most places, torn down in many places, but still running well and fully staffed.   No one on the ship seemed to take a superior attitude towards me, so I guessed they regarded me as captain.  Still, they seemed to know how to do their jobs without my help.  I couldn’t figure out why I was there.

The next day it happened.  Some men came running up to me in alarm, a problem was unfolding in a section of the ship, usually sealed off, that I hadn’t seen yet.  We crossed through the now unsealed portal, and there was a huge commotion.  All the attention centered around a man, normally looking except for the scruffy hair and face that was common at sea, but he started becoming more and more agitated.  The men around him were doing their best to calm him down and move him farther away from the door to the main part of the sealed wing, which really angered the scruffy fellow.  The host of security detail seemed to know how important their role was, so I let them continue.  Then at a certain point, like the striking of a match, everything shifted intensity.

Like the Hulk, the scruffy man transformed into a giant and busted through 4 aisle-ways that used to be separated by book cases.  It was now “showtime” for me to take over and I followed the aberration and the brave guards tagged behind me.  I had expected them to leave at that point, but they stayed right behind and coordinated their own teams around us as well.  We did our best to keep up with the monster as it zigzagged through the sealed wing.  Then, as abruptly as he climaxed in intensity, he dropped out of it again, seemingly himself.

What was going on?  I got full details about these aberrants who were sealed on this ship.  They followed exactly this pattern of climax and return to normalcy.  In fact, that was the only reason this ship even existed.  It was a floating quarantine.  And there were more of him.

It was all becoming clear, and yet they were looking to me to find a solution.  I wasn’t a psychiatrist.  I wasn’t an exorcist.  I was just myself, and yet they needed and trusted me.

A resonant voice boomed from my chest and throat.  “Let the man be put in a tank of ocean water.”  The water was near freezing, a shiver of dread passed through the officers in my presence.  They thought I was exterminating the man, and he apparently did too and welcomed the prospect.  “Finally!” He seemed to think.

The man entered the icy tank.  It was 10 feet cubed and had observation windows on one end.  The water then filled 7 feet of it so he had to swim, but he had plenty of room to breathe.  We watched and waited for the man to draw to an end in hypothermia or worse, but just the opposite happened.

The man was exuberant.  He explained that in the cold he was free from agitation.  His body, he said, must have been operating at such a high rate and temperature that he was on overload all the time.  The cold was his only relief in years and years.  He wished he could drown in it, but now that he lived and found relief for the first time, he wanted to return to the icy tank again and again.

Experiments were done on the rest of the aberrations with the same result.  This brought order to the ship because it cured the explosive episodes that they had left port to shelter society from, but the “patients” demanded more.  The icy temperatures felt like room temperature to them and they were exceedingly comfortable.  Upon return, they craved it immensely – perhaps like a drug – or perhaps because they found a new home in the experience of life that matched them.

The sealed wing underwent a transformation.  By some mechanism, the temperature was reduced in there to sub-zero.  Ice-crystals formed on every thing including the floors, walls, beds, windows.  The windows no longer functioned, so they were removed from every non-essential place.   The aberrants numbered more than 50 and, much like the deaf-community, started to really get to know each other now that they were “home” in this temperature range.  Their skin had ice crystals on them and shone like a garment weaved from 5 carat diamonds in the light.  They were returned to their humanity, no longer monsters in their own minds, and struggling to create meaning and sense of it all through their relationships with each other.

Then one day it happened.  I could feel an explosive rage building in myself every time I returned from visiting the “Ice lepers” as the crew called them.  I was afraid of myself when I came “to the surface” as the ice-people called it.  And now it was time for me to “take a bath” to see if it helped.

I dove in the icy tank, which now expanded to be the size of an Olympic pool.  The icy waters calmed my own agitation now and an inner warmth now sustained me in its icy presence instead of consuming me up above.  Shock mixed with the sudden relief.  I felt both like an abomination and a super-hero.  How was it possible I could like this?  That I could live in this range of temperatures and in the world of normal people?  Yet I wouldn’t be returning to the surface any time soon.  I was way too comfortable here, and went to join my new diamond-clad friends.

Rabbis

I dreamt last night that I was simultaneously with people from a synagogue and people from other spiritual organizations, but somehow they were all together and unified in purpose.  A rabbi and a 4 people sat around a table doing a Torah study.  I watched them for a long time before approaching, which I was resisting, but couldn’t help doing.  “May I join you briefly?” I asked, finally drawn to an empty chair and noticing that they were starting to pack up.  The rabbi responded enigmatically:  “Who sits down, you?  Or your creditors?”  “Obviously, I am the one who is here,”  I replied.

A bearded man to my left graciously explained:  “What the rabbi means by creditors are the airs that one takes on to make oneself feel or appear more worthy than they really are in presence of others.”  What an amazing teacher, I thought.  I hadn’t even sat down, and this rabbi had somehow downloaded an entire hour of study into a single interaction.  “Thank you for sharing this valuable lesson, Rabbi!”  I said to him directly, “I get it!”  Then I woke up.

Seek the Lowest Point

Monday morning.  Moonday, the day of the moon, is a time to welcome a new dream – a new story, born from the realm of highest and deepest awareness of the reality of Being.  Today’s dream was a great opportunity to practice my theory on nightmares.

I was in a hotel room in Asia, with a man who was head of the spiritual center I attended about 10 years ago.  He embodied in many ways aspects of all the spiritual teachers I’ve ever had, and spoke to me this time from a Tao-like perspective:

“In all things, seek the lowest point of being.”

I then heard a group of ladies approach the hotel room and the saintly man nodded.  I opened the door as they knocked then stepped aside as these three uniformed attendants entered the hotel room.  My teacher stepped forward and welcomed them.  On hearing their intent to clean the place, he offered to help, which made them laugh.  Despite their resistance, he insisted.

I left the hotel room, not prepared to insert myself in any kind of “low” way onto other people.  It seemed an imposition on them, and I took a walk with a troubled heart.

The dream shifted and I found myself on a beach gilded in pink and purple rays of the promise of sunrise.  It was one of the most serene and vivid displays of visceral color ever experienced in dream-time.  The beach I stood on was soft, warm to my feet, and sandy beige.  Behind me was a path leading up a mountain.  To my right the sand followed the foot of the mountain.   The ocean water in front of me was relatively calm and the surf that did come in was only about a couple feet high.  I must have been in some kind of inlet or bay, because I could see land very near on the other side of the ocean, which also rose to a mountain, and the sandy beach followed its base inland as well.  Eventually both beaches gave way to the river that carved this mountain in half on its way to meet the sea.

To my left, however, was a different kind of water altogether.  It was much calmer, somehow not subject to the incoming waves or outgoing river – or so it seemed to me at the time.  It was a wide estuary, which seemed relatively shallow, but it was the water’s calmness that drew me in most, free from the tumultuous meeting of river and sea.  I wanted to explore its rocky beaches and tide pools.

I looked around again, taking in the amazing display of colors and sounds and smells.  I looked right, down the beach, and noticed a couple had headed off that way on a walk.  At least I wasn’t alone.  That was comforting.  I looked down and saw an old abandoned surfboard.  It was only long enough to support my body if I lifted my ankles into the air.  About to paddle it out into the calm bay, not the wavy river, I noticed that its nose had been grinded off and the styrofoam innards were exposed.  They would get completely soaked and eventually sink the board.  “Oh well,” I thought naively, “At least it would help me see what’s in the bay a little ways.”

I looked again at the estuary.  It was 80 feet across to the jetty-like formations that protected it from the sea, but it was hundreds of yards long.  The point of land that I stood on must have looked like some kind of arrowhead from a birds-eye view, an arrowhead pointing diagonally outward to the wide-open ocean.

Not able to help myself anymore, I set the surfboard on the beach on the calm side of the estuary.  It floated, and would probably hold me up for a few minutes to get a look around.  With my feet still on the beach, I laid on the board.  It was a bit wobbly, but it would give me a look.  Letting go of land, I paddled into the water, and saw my first prize.  The large rocks I passed on my left gave way to an inlet and I saw some fish scurry away from the large predator that I must have represented.  I looked more closely at them as I followed and saw they were 3 puffer-fish, spotted brown atop a pink glowing set of rocks a foot underneath them.  They scurried farther into the inlet and just then my board wobbled again, enough to make me fall in the water, now about 8 feet deep.  I noticed pink coral atop the pink rocks while I was underwater.  This place was so surreal.

As I regained my position, I noticed that this water was only free from waves on the surface, but underneath, the water was churning with an undertow current that carried me down the shore and there was seemingly nothing I could do about it.  Now steadily on top of my rapidly sinking surfboard, the side current carried me to the next rock formation 20 yards down shore.  The rock pile was about 20 feet tall and 40 feet across, with water on both sides as it formed the inlet around it.

Now the dream was steadily taking a nightmarish quality.  As the current carried me in front of the rock pile, I noticed that some parts of this rock pile looked less and less like rocks.  I was passing what looked to be a reptilian skin, shiny, brown and thicker around in diameter than my whole body.  To boot, it was coiled around the south side of this rock, facing the rising sun in a repeating infinity symbol at least 3 or 4 times (figure-8’s) and each coil was longer than 40 feet long.  I started to hold my breath and “sneak” past, but when I reached the giant head of the snake, it’s detection of me was no longer just curiosity.

As it dropped its head down towards the water, I could feel its thoughts sizing me up.   “What is your name?” Was the only thing I could stammer out in reply.  I heard the name, “Ka’a,” then he dropped his giant head down to the bottom of the 8 foot water to come back up underneath me at my feet.  The master’s words “Always seek the lowest point of being,” came ironically to mind as the snake obviously employed this wisdom to reach his prey easily without a fight.  He was “underneath me” rather than the other way around.

I forced myself to wake up.  It was 4:45 a.m.  Good.  Plenty of time to work. Please see my article on nightmares to understand the premise for my work.

I then spent the next hour going back to sleep and re-living the snake over and over again, working out infinite myriads of outcomes for the dream.  Turns out the snake’s domain was fully and completely the spirit embodying every aspect of the place, from the river, to the shape of the land, and even the “couple” on the beach who were put there by him as part of the lure.  They were more like cardboard silhouettes with his consciousness rather than human beings.

Here is my rough drawing of the place:

always seek the lowest point

It is difficult to see the details in this but enough to get the jist.  From land it looks like an arrowhead.  From the ocean it looks like a snake with an open mouth.  The infinity symbol in the middle of the estuary is Ka’a.

My main question to Ka’a in reliving the dream over and over was, “What do you want?”  When I let him, he didn’t seem very interested in actually eating me.  He literally wanted to be below me.  That was the main theme that came “up” over and over again.  He just wanted to be below me.  I finally let him carry me and a cobra-like seat sprang up at the midpoint of his ‘shoulders’ behind the neck for me ride comfortably in.

Yes.  The serpent Ka’a could fly as well.  Perhaps that is why the ancient Mayan’s called him “feathered,” but he had no wings, just energy.  I thanked Ka’a for “imposing” himself and seeking the lowest point in relation to me.  Finally I asked how I could seek the lowest point in relation to him.  He took me up to a place in his sky domain that I drew as “sky cliffs,”  he placed me upon the cliffs then showed me how he rubs his belly with them, much like a bear scratching himself on the bark of a tree.  Finally after showing me on the rocks, he did it on me, rubbing his belly on me as part of the landscape.  I could feel every pearly white segment of reptilian belly as it passed over me, and it was amazing to experience his body from this perspective.  I could also perceive how it benefited him.

Ka’a still wasn’t done with me for some reason.  He was trying to get me to “see” for him.  One of the images I saw was of a standing cobra statue with ruby gems for eyes.  He was blind for the most part and could only sense the world with infrared and with smell.  Perhaps that is why the whole place looked pink and purple to me.  He was trying to figure out a way that we could either unite or temporarily swap our senses or the way we perceived the world.  I couldn’t smell through my tongue, nor see the heat around me when I closed my eyes, and when I opened my eyes he couldn’t see through them either.  The best that he could do was to let me upon him and ride, feeling my thoughts and experiencing the world through my eyes in this way.

First Dreams

What are the first dreams you’ve ever remembered?

My dreaming life started at the age of about three, during the developmental phase psychologists call “Night terrors.”

The first nightmare was remembered as physically climbing over the side of my crib and seeing that my house was on fire. I opened my parents’ bedroom door and tried to wake them up, but they wouldn’t budge. So I had no choice but to go out and face the fire on my own. I went into the living room and saw that, instead of flames, the whole house was lit in a red glow, while the outside was a vivid blue from the moonlight. My eye, however, was drawn to sets of complete skeletons that were hanging from every wall of the house, spaced a few feet apart. Then my eye was drawn to the sofa, where a single human skull was on the cushion. My mind identified this skull as the cause of the family problems, so I charged at it in a brave attempt to vanquish the enemy. However, each time I came within reach of the skull, its power physically picked me up head over heels backwards and placed me back where I started again. After 5 or so attempts, the dream ends.

I find myself wondering: when a toddler experiences night terrors of this type, what is really happening physically? Could a bystander have seen a toddler flipping in the air? Or under full and complete surveillance, would they more likely see a toddler collapsed back to sleep on the floor of the living room? Or something in between? How amazing it would be to somehow correlate the experience of the toddler with some kind of documentation of what actually happened, and show it to them later in case there is ever any recollection.

The second toddler dream is also centered on the house. I wake up from bed to a visitor approaching. He is a masculine presence and I am not afraid of him. He wants to show me something, to teach me about my home. He leads me first to the back yard, and instead of my lawn, the garage, the treehouse, I see a battle field. There are cannons and smoke clearing from recent discharges from them. Then in the front yard, one of these wheeled cannons is sitting right outside my window – not pointing at me, but close enough that I could see the gleam of light on the rim of the barrel. “This house is in a war zone” I thought. It was in the san fernando valley of southern california. I wonder today if any historian could trace activity of say, the mexican-american war to this location?

After weeks of nightmares, my parents apparently consulted amongst themselves or with some experts and decided to intervene, which actually worked but perhaps not in the way they were expecting. They approached me one night before bed and presented me with the first gift I ever remember receiving: A stuffed animal, a golden brown gorilla in a seated position with long arms down to the floor. We (?) named it “Nicolas” and I was told that Nicolas would protect me in my dreams. I enthusiastically went to sleep that night just to see what would happen, and sure enough, a gorilla named Nicolas did visit me. Only it was not to rescue me at a time of nightmarish need. Nicolas was to be my first of many dream teachers. His message to me was “You can do whatever you want in your dreams.” And he showed me how.

In the subsequent years, two periods of time stand out most. At about age 8 I started having flying dreams. These were not very impressive, and more like “swimming through air” around my neighborhood. I had to keep kicking and paddling to stay mobile, or else I would “sink” back to earth! It was fun, though.

Then the dreaming life really got in full gear at about age 10 when I realized that I could plant the seed of what I wanted to dream about. The key image that got my dream life all fired up was of a unicorn. My unicorn friend came to me every night and walked me to a place of rainbows and butterflies, which would start the most amazing adventures. What a change from the night terrors of the the toddler phase!!! The flying, the journeying was so amazing and so intense that all I wanted to do was dream, literally. I got to the point where I would go to sleep at night, dream all night, wake up in the morning remembering where I left off, and eat breakfast. I would go back to sleep during the day (it must have been summer break) – sleep ALL day till dinner when I got hungry, wake up remembering where I left off, eat dinner, then go right back to sleep to continue the dream again!!! I did this for at least 3 days straight!!! Finally one of my friends, Johnny, came over and said “What are you doing, sleeping all the time!?” He got me enrolled in the local popwarner football team with him, the West Valley Eagles, during a recruiting booth at the fallbrook mall. Practice was set to begin on August 1st. That was a day that changed my life. Football became my life for the next 5 years and I completely metamorphosized in its developmental challenges. Dreaming still continued, but now the amazing things were balancing out with the real world as well!

The last childhood period I think is also truly amazing. I was in high school and engaging in daily meditation practice using a guided visualization called “The Healing Waterfall.” I had done this visualization for months and had become quite vivid with it. One day after doing the visualization, I fell asleep and entered into dreamtime focused still on the images of the healing waterfall. One of the steps is to emerge from the healing water and find a new set of clothing just for you – whatever you wanted. I dreamt I was coming out of the falls and was shocked to see that everything became very visceral and lucid as I approached my “new clothes.” These clothes were unlike any I had ever owned or any I could even think of doing this visualization. They were a heavy cotton and they were off-white in color: large-legged pants, long shirt and a shawl-like jacket over it, all uniform in color. The most amazing part was that in between the shawl and the shirt, there was a quartz crystal pendant on a silver necklace waiting there for me. The crystal had a prism-like function: rainbows followed it where ever it went. “Who had given this to me?” I wondered… then looked around. Up in the hills was a man sitting way off, but he was clearly distinct because he wore bright orange robes. A monk. A monk, or some kind of master had arrived to help me? “What is this crystal?” I asked him. “It is your dreaming crystal,” came the reply, “It will help you to do whatever you want in your dreams.” I put the crystal on and immediately noticed a change in the energy and power of my dreaming body. “Thank you so much!!!” I offered as the dream ended.

The most amazing part of this experience was I, about 3 years later, studied on Kauai with a Tibetan Buddhist monk for about a year. He held services and meditation classes, and throughout the year one of the events I came to really look forward to was a retreat. The retreat he scheduled for the end of my year was on the topic of “Dream Yoga.” On the occasion of this weekend, my Tibetan Buddhist teacher dressed up in his bright orange robes. Naturally, on the conclusion of a lesson on “How to visit your friends in dreamtime,” everything clicked. I was almost trembling as I approached him after class. “I had this dream in high school where I received my dreaming crystal from a man wearing orange robes. Was that you?” He nodded.

Journey to the Sonoma Coastline

For the second Monday morning in a row, vivid dreams linger upon awakening.

The quality of prayer behind these Monday dreams is of such depth that their meaning is not easily deciphered by succinct aphorisms to capture the evolution of consciousness that is called for.

This morning’s dream started with a friend and neighbor, an uncle-like figure who has been a mentor in my life arriving to invite me on a road trip in his truck. I jump in the truck, so excited by the prospect.

We arrive almost instantly on the west coast, northern California. I’ve included the closest approximation of video I could find of what I experienced in the dream:

The differences between this video and what I experienced included time of day and the height of surf:

In my dream the morning sun was glowing so amazingly golden on the horizon that the rocks all looked golden with rich shadows of brown. The surf was pumping in with 10 foot swells eclipsing and churning around all the exposed boulders like a giant bowl of white foamy soup. When the surf finally reached shore, it barely had time to bounce off what was left of the sand then ricochet off the cliff walls of the little bay. The ocean seemed to be diligently and hungrily pounding out more space, punishing the boulders, sand, cliffs and whatever else was unfortunate enough to get in the way.

For a brief moment I imagined what it would be like to be stuck in that water. The futility of trying to escape was overwhelming, so I just relaxed and lay still as I was pulverized on boulder after boulder, swirled underwater and slammed onto shore, ricocheting off of cliffs, then sucked back by foaming tentacles into her soupy bowels to do it all over again and again.

My identity was sufficiently smashed on the tenth or so round that when the 15 foot face of the wave slammed onto sand, my being dispersed under the sand between all the granules, and I experienced myself being drawn back into the ocean even from underneath the sand, eroding the foundations of whatever was left.

I was suddenly celebrating with great shouts of joy! I was the pacific ocean, my life streaming down from Alaskan glaciers. At this bay on the sonoma coastline I was greedy. I was powerful. I was hungry. I was destructive, relishing the smashing sensation that I reeked havoc with on all that stood in my way.

A glorious moment, the milestone of victory that I looked forward to was when the last granule of protective sand was removed from the coastline. When the craggy underbedding was exposed, I was like a dog burying my bone, which was simply the desire for more territory. My huge smoldering waves felt cramped like a tall man laying on a short bed with the blankets tucked under the edges, forcing all my appendages into their most contracted position. The only obstacle between stretching my legs in true comfort was this set of cliffs and my destiny was to break every single one down. I would never stop, never quit in my war against the boulders before me because it was their prayer as well.

An instinctive part of me, as the ocean, knew that the greatest thirsting desire of every boulder was to fly. Flying boulders? Yes.

Now my identity shifted once again. No longer a man, no longer the ocean, I was the rocks.

As the cliffs themselves, I knew that erosion is the mechanism fulfilling their prayer, and when the stones get small enough to be pushed by water, they feel free for the first time – and the heaviest stones bid an envious good bye to the moderate and small stones who float farther and longer. The granules of sand are the highest evolved in their world – those boulders sufficiently smashed that they have reached mineral nirvana – complete immersion, motions and freedom with the ocean of life.

As the last granule of sand left shore, glistening against the morning sun, I managed to pull my identity away and come back full circle. Finally I was watching from the perspective at the top of the cliff once again just an outside observer. My friend and mentor was still next to me. I wondered if he had experienced what I did, and had no idea how to communicate any of it to him nor how to ask what his experience of the bay was. I was satisfied to see that he was full of joy – at least as much as, if not more so than I was.

The morning sun was warming golden on my face – on both of our faces – filling our smiling windswept depths with loving energy within, just like the rocks and the surface of the water.

Then I shifted identities for the last time of this dream: I was the warmth of the sunshine! Gradually my warmth would re-emerge from the rocks enough to warm the lizards. Gradually the warmth of the sun would warm the ocean surface enough to quell its passion for destruction and welcome her pods of cetacean children back from their shelter in her depths, rising up for the air and the light once again. Then I rose from sleep to greet the day.

“Welcome to Raindrop Airlines”

In the period between August 15th and October 19th, the song of the heart expressed primarily through the voice- words spoken and sung, laughed and explored all the vocal ranges on intonation to truly hear and wonder at what was emerging so naturally and joyfully from within. The result was the song of the awakened heart. The primary goal of the awakened heart was to live in true identity as a soul, a child of God with all its glory and power.

Then the period from then to now, this joyful energy and presence fully integrated in the crown opening an experience of mindfulness and integrated consciousness that expressed primarily through writing. This writing was collected as daily inspirations and inner journeys to ever more resounding heights and depths entitled the Tao of the Arisen Son. The primary goal of the arisen son was to access and build a foundation to integrate prayer as identity.

As of November 1st, what is emerging so naturally from within doesn’t fit the pattern of either of these cycles. The daily inspirations came from the ability to easily decipher the energy and story of dream time and waking dream time, then applying them in living. Yet what emerged yesterday was of a different caliber – not easily condensed into Tao-like aphorisms.

And, just as using the vocal word was still available during the period of writing, both the voice and the pen will be available now.

Yesterday’s dream started out in Paris in a time of fulfilling stories and experiences and it was now time to return. “Wait? Return?” I thought, “Where else can I go? London? Madrid? Amsterdam? Hawaii? Could it be possible to take a long trip to all of these places in a row?” After a brief consideration, “Perhaps I could, but I have to start somewhere! Hawaii it is!”

I found myself at an airport.  The escalator led up to the terminal, where peach colored walls reflected the morning sun shining through all-glass view of the runways.  After taking a moment to absorb the beauty of what was around, I then realized that I didn’t have a ticket in hand.  A quick glance at the other people revealed them placing a gold coin in turnstiles.  Holding open my left hand, a shiny gold coin appeared.  Placing it in the slot, the turnstile unlocked allowing me through and I crossed the bridge to board the plane.

Entering the plane, everything went black as formlessness.  I then found myself standing on a circular ledge  that served as precipice to a large swirling mass of spiraling downward energy.  The stable ledge part was a circular sidewalk about 50 feet in diameter.   The door I came in through was not only locked, it was gone, swallowed by the womb-like presence of the great void.  The only way out, was down in the center of the swirling abyss.  I know it is my destiny to jump and I feel safe watching the energy spiral down, so I GO!  OHHHHHHHHHH!

The feeling of falling stabilizes as a pressure not only going down, but darkness pressing up against me like wind as well.  Silently I scream with exhilarating joy.

After some time, my direct descent catches a swirling tube  spiraling downward and I’m dizzy as the centrifugal force presses me against the outer walls of this tube.  After a while I get really tired of the spinning feeling so I opted out of the tube for a direct free-fall again.  Exiting the tube I immediately became very fearful as the physical plane of existence came into view below:  “What was waiting for me down there?  Had I made a huge mistake taking my own way down instead of trusting the dizziness?”

My leap from the tube sent my feet up over my head behind me, and I noticed it was the ocean that was below me – which looked above with feet overhead.  My feet continued to arc right side up just in time to touch the water first:  “I hope this is not too shallow!!!!”  Was my last thought as the bubbles of entry followed me 10 feet underwater and I noticed that I had a total of 20 feet to land in safely.  Scrambling for the surface, the first thing I noticed was that I was only about 75 yards from shore which was nice.  The second thing I noticed was the chute.  A large grey chute from which all the other passengers started to fly into the water, albeit more gently than I did, was placed only about 10 yards from shore.  At least 2 other passengers flew laughing out of the chute while I swam to shore.

The hawaiian ocean water was crystal blue, and the sand white.  I emerged on the beach to a large grove of palm trees in front of a long and wide one story building painted white.  It seemed to me to be a cross between a hotel and an airport terminal.  Then I woke up.

I spent all day contemplating the dream and then shared it with friends.

How to Cure Nightmares

Okay here we are.

What my theory was:  When we have nightmarish experiences, what is actually happening is, our own power, our greatest power, our greatest untapped potential is actually seeking to be integrated with us.

And so, my good friend here and I, she entertained my theory by allowing me to walk her through an experience of accepting the nightmarish experience by allowing it to transform her and integrate with her – and that certainly happened – as an experience of greater power, better sense of being able to breathe, a sense of integration.

Was there any other way of explaining how the shift felt or how it feels now?

Peaceful and strong in my body, in my backbone, which also translates to my lungs and heart.

So the actual imagery that was used in this scenario, was taking the opportunity to work with something she volunteered to me after we passed a rattlesnake on our path.  What she volunteered was that she often has a fear that when she comes into or out of her home, that a snake would – or might – wrap itself around her leg.

So I invited her to – as we were walking – to be still for a moment and close her eyes.   I created a space for her that I was on the other side of that door, and here comes the snake wrapping around her leg and just allow it to happen:  whether the snake wanted to wrap and hold her leg down, or whether the snake wanted to wrap and bite, injecting something into her, or whether the snake wanted to climb her leg – to just allow it to happen.

The experience happened that, in her dream, her waking dream, that the snake climbed up her leg, then wrapped around the midsection, and then came up right in her eyesight and said:  YESSS  YESSSS YESSSSS.  It was a very encouraging snake.  YESSS YOU CAN.  It was not a political snake, that is a very political slogan these days, but it was very encouraging, an energy of encouragement.

So right away, from the experience of accepting, something that was nightmarish became something that was creative and encouraging – RIGHT OFF THE BAT.

The next step of my theory is that this power that is integrating with us through these nightmarish experiences is actually ourselves, it is our true self. And our True Self is divine, so I’d even go as far to say that this nightmarish element, characterized also by the great beast in scripture, called Behemoth (Job 40:15-24), the great beast, the devouring beast, whatever the nightmare is, whatever it is that is we run away from in the experience of nightmares, is actually God. It is actually our true self and the power of our true self seeking to integrate into our identities and into our bodies.

The next step on this person’s exercise, once the snake’s words were complete “YESSS YOU CAN,” I invited the energy of Caroline’s true self, to reunite with her body. First it was felt in the chest, giving greater power to breathe and finally, it rested in its true home which is the spine.

The power of the spine: there is no greater power in our body than in our spine. This is the place of the tree of life. This is the place that is connected to all of the cosmos. The light that is in our spine and in our crown is the same light that is in the sun, and the same light that is in the throne of true beingness.

The spine is the tree of life, and its power is infinite.  Its power is the power of God, and the vibrations that emanate down the crown and through the spine are the voice of God.  Every word that proceedeth from the mouth of the Father proceedeth in the crown, to the neck and throughout the body as the tree of life.

Now one might say, “Wouldn’t we allowing some foreign substance into our body by integrating with nightmarish symbols?  Are we letting unclean spirits into our body?”  The answer is NO.

There is no need to fear such a thing, because the things that we experience as nightmares, the things that we fear are actually within us.  The often-quoted quote of Marianne Williamson in “Return to Love” makes an excellent point: we don’t fear how weak and small we are, we fear how great we are.  The things we experience in the dream state, the things we experience within ourselves are actually elements of our own consciousness.

If we have rebelled against ourselves, if we have rebelled against God, that power seeks to reclaim us, to reclaim our identity as God.

When I invited Caroline into this experience, I specifically invited the snake to reunite and to speak this little girl, the little girl, the child, “Do you have anything else to say to this little girl?”

This energy that is seeking to reunite with us is our greatest self, it is our highest self, it is God.  We are God!   When we are rebelling against God, the greatness that lies within seeks to reclaim us, to be integrated in full wholeness, spiritual wholeness.

That reintegration process feels fearful to someone who is accustomed to rebelling against God.  It feels fearful, and yet, by the graces of divine law, our consciousness can make a story about it – to give it a face and an image.  In this case it was a snake.

Everybody’s nightmares are different, everybody’s power takes on different symbols, and yet – in almost every case – we reject it.  We run away!  But we can’t!!

Everybody has had a dream that they are running from something that they cannot get away from.  Why?  BECAUSE IT IS YOU!  That which you are, you can only escape to a certain degree.  But you will never get completely away from it!

We are so accustomed to rebelling against the presence of God within.

So this wonderful woman and I stand together, in a place of wholeness, a place of integration, in a place of reclaiming our power in our spines, in our chest, IN OUR VOICE.

We are able to awaken the untapped potential!!!  Stop resisting it!!  You are the snake trying to come into your own body!  You are the power trying to enter into your own life!!  Stop fighting it!!

When that power is fully integrated, the ability to spontaneously express enlightenment and wisdom, the ability to fully be present for the people in your world, the ability to truly own who you are,  all becomes possible, at that exact moment when you stop fighting it!

Take it into your body, hear what it has to say, and feel its power.

Carolyn:  I think also that part wants to express, and it can only express through you!

Ah, such profound truth.

That powerful part of us has a message for the world, and it can only express that message through you.

The Hospital: 3 Tests for Spiritual Wholeness

I dreamt I was walking.  I was walking along a narrow lane, in a large, open urban area – almost a park like setting.   After passing the park and entering an urban square, I came upon some people:  A man, a woman and an elderly lady with them, who were prostrate towards a nearby building.

“Selah!!!”  They would proclaim with both hands in the air, then they would bow all the way to the pavement.  It seemed they had been worshiping like this for a very long time, perhaps all day and the night before.  All 3 were clearly exhausted, and their bodies betrayed the full spectrum of the motions, but their intense devotion was unwaveringly directed despite their bodily aches.  I could tell that the three seemed to be of south Indian descent.  My curiosity was peaked.  Where was I?

I looked at the building they seemed to be worshiping.   It was octagonal in shape, and tall like a tower.  My mind identified it as a hospital.  And it was dirty, old and had old clothes seemingly strewn from the patios, 3rd-world-ish enough that I realized I might actually be in the South of India somewhere.

Following the devotional energy, I decided to go and inspect this hospital.  However, when I got in, I discovered it was no more than an apartment or dormitory.  The decorations, strewn clothes, smell of spices, generally dirty living conditions all made me feel like I was in India somewhere.  And yet, no people.  The place seemed utterly empty of inhabitants.

Suddenly, I was on a mission.  Like a floating log down a current of river, I was captivate by a stream of invisible devotional energy that endlessly rose to the top floor of this ‘hospital’ – apartment-like holy place.  I was on a mission to get to the top of this building – compelled by the outside worshipers’ prayers.

I climbed to the middle floor using the outside staircase that flanked each side of the building, and entered the residential hallway.  I came to an apartment unit, in the middle of the building, that had no front door.  I stopped to inspect the inside of this apartment, and went inside to look around – hoping that someone would come out to greet me and ask for me.  Perhaps guide me.

Then a huge pack of about 1000 emerald-colored spiders all suddenly emerged, spilling out in droves from underneath a small armchair.  Each spider was about the size of my palm, and had 2 diamond shaped markings, a shiny platinum color, on each side of their emerald green abdomens.  As they began to surround me, I panicked, stomping my feet on ground in a brazen attempt to shoo them away – but it was in vain.  I knew any one or 5 of them would have scurried at the deep hollow thrust of my feet against the ground, but these spiders were emboldened by their sheer numbers and called to each other that they had found a meal in my arrival.

They pressed ever closer around me.  I was paralyzed, seemingly, as one spider, then another – then a handful at a time jumped 6-7 feet in the air to try to land on top of me to try to bring me down.  Instead of waking up from the nightmarish experience, I changed perspectives as I often do in dream combat – looking down from above or afar in a 3rd person view rather than 1st person.  I watched, powerless, from afar as my seated body was devoured by the host of spiders.  The bones were all that remained after a very short time, then it all seemed to regenerate and I was myself again.

There was one very important difference in my body now:  I was now only 3 1/2 feet tall!

I looked again at the scurrying, attacking, confused spiders – and picking one up I noticed that its body was a shiny nylon-like fabric material.  “These are puppets,” I thought to myself, and the sense of powerlessness from the previous scene melted away.  I was suddenly aware that I had passed the first test, and was allowed to ascend higher up the tower.  I walked out of the room and continued up the apartment levels, but in search of what?

I went up 3/4 of the way to the top of the building, and came upon an older Indian woman.  I was shocked to realize that she was the first human inhabitant of this place I had come across.  And she was only 3 feet tall as well, but after my transformation with the spiders, we met eye to eye.  My mind raced as I met her gaze:  Was this a single residence?  It was huge!  Who could own a whole apartment building like this?  Did she know about the spiders below?  Were they her ‘puppets’?

The old woman had a test for me as well:  She had a question she wanted answered.  “Why are you here?”  It was a warm-up.  I didn’t even have to answer that one, she already knew I sought the top floor.  Then she popped the big one:  “How was the problem your fault?”  The lacerating question made me feel extremely vulnerable, but after being purified by spider jaws, the fear of self-exposure wasn’t dominating me.  I answered plainly how my actions contributed to some failure of my self or my team.  She seemed satisfied with my honesty, and let me pass.  Her advice to me on parting:  “If they judge you for being self-effacing, do not blame yourself.  They would have found a reason to judge you later anyway.  Such honesty is really about being accountable to Heaven, not to man.”

I left her presence feeling both ashamed and confident:  ashamed for my shortcomings, and confident in my ability to take greater responsibility for the chaos of my life.

I finally reached the top floor and met the master of the house.  An old man, shorter than me even though I was only 3’5″, was there, wearing a white tunic and turban.  He didn’t seem to notice or face me to interact in any way, so I instantly recognized my 3rd test, and decided to wait.  To wait, where he could see me, but not to interrupt what he was doing, until such time he saw fit to acknowledge me.  I don’t know if he did ever, but his energetic presence electrified some part of my being.  Then I woke up.

Then a huge pack of about 1000 emerald-colored spiders all suddenly emerged, spilling out in droves from underneath a small armchair.  Each spider was about the size of my palm, and had 2 diamond shaped markings, a shiny platinum color, on each side of their emerald green abdomens.  As they began to surround me, I panicked, stomping my feet on ground in a brazen attempt to shoo them away – but it was in vain.  I knew any one or 5 of them would have scurried at the deep hollow thrust of my feet against the ground, but these spiders were emboldened by their sheer numbers and called to each other that they had found a meal in my arrival.  And they pressed ever closer around me.  I was paralyzed suddenly

The Equilibriums

My dream last night started out in an apartment.  I was looking for work, and apparently had been doing so for a long time because my apartment was really barren and I had no utilities.  It was as though I had been slowly becoming homeless from the inside out.  The difference between being in this apartment and being out on the street was ever slowly diminishing.  The walls were all a pale blue every night from the streetlamps outside, and seemed to keep that same color during the day as well.

There was a place I knew about, not far from where I lived, that I knew wasn’t going out of business.  All I knew was that it was some kind of mining operation, and they had new people hiring there all the time.  Like everyone else, they never called me back, but I was now completely determined, and ready to do anything.  I thought, “Even if I have to volunteer there until they hire me, I won’t give up until they do.”

I walk in the door of this place and somehow the entrance to the mines was simply in the rear of their front office building.  The woman at the front desk didn’t even ask me my name, but simply waived her hand to the back of the room, as there was a group of new workers entering the mine at that very moment.

I count my luck and hop into the back of the line.  As we are escorted through the door, everything is dark, but not as dark as it should have been.  The walls were clearly earthen, but illuminated with a pale blue light.  It seemed so unnatural or perhaps supernatural, until we were led forward to a watery surface that was none other than some kind of port or boat dock.  The water was lit from deep within, and the whole tunnel we were in could not have been more than 20 feet wide and only 20 feet of water until the tunnel tapered down underneath.  “How can a boat fit in this place?”  I wondered.

At that moment, a submarine-like vessel suddenly roared to the surface, startling all but our escorts.  I just had enough time to notice that it was black, with a nose and two wings – almost like a man-made sting ray.  Someone handed me a mask, like a scuba mask but it covered my whole face, and said “Use this.”  “Put this on,” they said to the next person, then some other curt variation to the next.  We were then ushered to the passenger part of the vehicle.  The doors were completely open, like the belly of a helicopter.  As we strapped into our seats, I was fearful that the water would entrench us if they didn’t close the doors, but there didn’t seem to be anything to close at all.  At least our masks were connected to something that kept us breathing.  Then I blacked out.

I woke up again in the dream.  I was still strapped in my seat and the passenger bay was still dry.  I seemed to be the only one awake.  All the other passengers were asleep.  The cockpit was illuminated blue and captain and co-captain stirring with this and that.  We flew fast and low to the bottom of the floor, as I could see the kelp and coral and whatever else was growing just beneath us.  From the speed at which they whizzed by, I guess we were skimming along at about 30 miles per hour.

Then I started getting paranoid again about the bay.  “How did this thing stay airtight?”  I could only imagine that the speed that the sting ray submerged had something to do with trapping the air inside.  My fear became so pervasive, that the sub then seemingly responded by actually making a hard enough turn banking on its left so that the trapped no longer was held by the ceiling and upper walls of the passenger bay, and cold rushing water woke all the passengers up.  Then we were all thankful we had the scuba masks on.     Shortly afterward, the sting ray arrived at its destination.  The captains sure had a polite way of waking up their crew.  Then I blacked out again.

I woke up and was in a place that could only be described as a different world.    There were hardly any inhabitants, and the passengers I was with quickly diffused into the place and were gone from sight.  I was basically alone.  There were buildings and signs of civilization but the whole place was just so different than anything I’ve ever seen before.  It was like an alternate reality in some other part, some other level, like the center of the earth – that no one knew about.

I met up with some people my age and we found these balls filled with a strange gas that made a popping sound whenever you bounced them.  We were really amazed by them and kept bouncing them on walls, buildings, each other and whatever else we could find.  We finally met someone who seemed to live here, and when he saw us playing he said, “Oh, did you invent something?”  We placed the ball in his outstretched hand.  “It doesn’t pop as much as it used to,” I said, “The gas must be gradually escaping every time we pop it.”  “I see,” the butler-like man said, “It has an equilibrium line, just like this place.”

Sure enough I noticed that it had a seam bisecting the ball, like an equatorial line, just like any ball made in a factory.  The man continued, “Does the ball have any inhabitants?”

I was horrified.  Inhabitants?  We had been smashing this ball on everything we could find.  Any tiny living things in there would surely not have survived.  I grabbed each end of the ball and separated it at the equatorial line.  It gradually gave way and the two halves began to separate again.  Inside was just a sticky green, gel-like goo.  The butler looked smug.  “I knew your invention couldn’t have been that good to match this place,” he seemed to think.

Then the young men and myself knew we had to find a way out of this place.  We were no longer content to simply idle our time away in this other world.  There had to be a way back.  We searched everywhere and must have found a way that seemed different than the rest.  We found ourselves ascending until we reached a shale-like stair case.  The stone was deep red, and stairs eventually came out in a desert like place that could look out at the stars again.  However, the lookout was either an illusion or was some kind of window that we couldn’t pass through.  We had to keep going around another hidden path to the right and up again.  Finally we passed through an entrance, that not-surprisingly became the back door of this giant house.  “This is some kind of crazy network of underground passages in all these buildings and homes,” I thought, “I wonder where else this thing goes.”

After eagerly exploring, only somewhat apprehensive that one of the residents might return, we counted 8 total bedrooms.  I slept in the lower level room just to the left of the cave entrance.  White curtains billowed around a gust of wind, revealing the same view in the window that the ascending stair case did a quarter mile behind us, but from a different angle.  “This window is actually real,” I was relieved, “I can jump out through it back into the world anytime I want.”  That satisfaction calmed me enough to collapse to sleep.  It had been a long long journey, and all I knew was that I now was re-located to a high desert state, mostly likely in the US southwest.  I fell quickly to sleep, wondering if my new life would be any better here than when I left, and also wondering if I would take the time to see where else this new reality connected to.

Dream Interpretation

The following are my opinion based on thirty years of active dreaming:

1. Dreams are best interpreted by the dreamer. To me, dreams are a message or code from the soul or superconscious mind to the conscious awareness of ego or self operating in relationship to a perceived world. The symbols and storyline are chosen by the superconscious precisely based on what will trigger the semi-conscious emotions, memories, issues, beliefs, m.o., etc according to the soul’s intentions. Thus the symbols are meant to “filter” through your mind and give you the intended message. Therefore, even when you study someone else’s dream and give advise keep in mind that the symbols and storyline are interacting with your own “filters.”

Dr. Jeremy Taylor has an amazing approach to dreamwork that expands greatly on this theme: Projective Dreamwork. In essence, it is hearing every dream “as though it were my dream.” What a powerful way to help another and own one’s projections in the process.

2. Since they originate from the superconscious or the soul, dreams are always true or meaningful. This means that no matter how a dream is interpreted, there are endless and multi-faceted “layers” of truth embedded in them. The deeper the reflection or conscious process upon a dream the more powerful the impact it can have on our lives. Dreams can be continued or resolved in a waking state no matter whether one is physiologically awake or not.

3. Dreams are candid or most valuable for a certain period of time after it is received. The higher or more spiritual the dream the longer it will be valid to assisting you in your life. The higher the spiritual quality of your dream, the more impossible it is to forget throughout your life. I find that the most valuable application period for most dreams expire at around sundown the following day. So if you write in your dream journal first thing in the morning, then you have about 12 hours to apply the lesson of the dream to your life. Of course, the dream itself is still valuable as a story or ideas for paintings, music, poetry etc. and the lesson is still valuable as a future reference. But the dream you have in the morning is directly linked to your immediate future in an extremely mysterious and powerful way. Dreams are the voice of creation operating in your life, laying a bridge across the sky before you one stone at a time.