I dreamt that I was at first visiting a spiritual community that was centered in Yogic Himalayan practices.

Everyone had an air of peace, stillness, calmness. It seemed to be permeating the environment. I also had that in me and the practices they did were simple enough that anyone could do them so I was comfortable.

They had a beautiful museum of models of different religions sacred structures, especially Egyptian. At night, the first night, they had some kind of ceremony where some of them rode on flying pyramids and sent blasts of energy at the earth surrounding the audience.

Then they had a ceremony that was like receiving communion. Their sacred sacrament was a clear jar of liniment seed oil that was blessed and distributed by their master or highest ranking member or disciple of the master. Somehow I ended up participating in facilitating that ceremony as a leader that first night.

I felt at home.

The next day there was a spiritual open house and there were booths from about a hundred spiritual organizations, including one I recognized from Ananda Yoga. Thousands of visitors came in that day to peruse the tables and exhibits. I helped greet people at the door with a special brother.

I felt connected to him more deeply than to the visitors. I felt his love for the people who came to visit, his love for me. His presence reminded me of who I was as this love and stillness inside.

Lastly I met the masters of this path and somehow visited them in their seclusion retreats. Each of them were dressed very sparsely in like a loin cloth and some body art in a few cases. They just hang out in seclusion for long periods of time and do inner work for themselves and the world.

As one of them spoke to me, his whole body, every cell would move in a patterned rhythmic way according to the emotions he felt inside. These masters were human, yet at the same time more fully human than I could normally experience.