Dream Log

Sound and Light

This is an exciting day to begin a dream log as my dream last night was very intriguing. Feel free to post any old or new dreams and their significance to you. Using present tense helps solidify the feeling that you were really there, sometimes even causing you to dream a dream again.

DREAM:

I am sitting on a sand dune in the desert, watching a man walk away from me. I can hear a Mediterranean~style flute wisping on the wind, coming from the left of me. I keep my eyes on the man, who is glowing with a white light almost as if it is reflecting off of him, like a mirror with dark bands between the light’s rays. It swells over him and then receeds, and I see that he is wearing a strange, angular white or cream-coloured turban on his head. It snakes in strange, loose corners around his head to a point. He is wearing deep red robes and has a plain wooden staff in his right hand.

He is walking towards another sand dune, there are sparse tufts of grass around us. I hear a voice whisper on the wind. “The Nomad”, which echoes off into the distance. It seems like a scene from a comedic Western, like any moment the whistling theme from “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” is about to start. The entire incident is comical, as if it were made to make me laugh.

When I woke up I continued to get information. A name: Yaubl Sacabi. I’ve seen the name before while reading about ancient masters, and in my half-sleep state I thought to myself what a funny name it is. I felt, rather than heard, a voice tell me that the names of the masters are not of this plane. When they are spoken on the plane from which they’ve come they are equally a shouted sound, a vibration and a specific colour, a powerful name to behold.

I found a story online today about Yaubl Sacabi. A desert was mentioned, and the Earthly pronunciation of the name: “Yeeowbl”, like the sound a cat makes, perhaps. This is the first ascended master I have dreamt about other than my own, so I am very excited about this dream. Often, ascended masters have quite the sense of humour. It will be interesting to discover what this dream meant and how it pertains to Master Sacabi.

10 thoughts on “Dream Log

  1. DREAM (Day Three of Target Practice):

    I am in an enormous school that goes on forever. The class I enter the dream in the midst of is house painting class (which is my career in waking life). Me and other students are supposed to be painting the exterior of a house, but it’s about to rain. I look for the teacher to tell her that we won’t be able to finish our task but she’s nowhere to be found. Students mill around waiting for her return. One of them is a scruffy guy in his 30’s who gathers some sheets together and lays down in a bathtub for a nap. It seems he’s floating at the top of the tub, as if on water, and I wonder how he’s doing it (my ideas of a dreamstate/soul travel image, sleeping/floating). I go to another part of the house, the classroom, and everyone is gathered around. They are almost all older than college age like I am. There is a foreign exchange student who is sleeping with a blanket and a pillow (yet another sleepstate image). I want to help her be comfortable because it seems that she’s not. There is a small boy as well, who is dirty as if he hasn’t been taken care of, who I want to help in some way but I’m not sure how.
    Three girls from class decide to go and see if the teacher is in her personal lounge, so we all go over there. It’s a tiny room, practically four chairs in a four~by~eight~foot room that looks as if someone’s just torn down some cork boards from the padded cubicle walls. The girls discuss this amongst themselves, thinking that it looks like she’d just been painting the room. In my mind I disagree with them, it just looks like she tore some corkboard down.
    I decide that I want to walk to my car so that I can leave for the day (this feels to me like my idea of life. Others are standing around talking about the physical state of things, but I’m wanting to move away from that). I take what looks like a nature trail but notice a bounce to my step as I walk; the trail is actually for athletes, made of a special cork padding with dirt over it (not sure what cork represents to me). It’s really easy to walk on and it seems I get there to the end of it faster than I would have a normal path (possibly based on my idea that those who set out to train hard advance quicker than others /as well as my ego, which believes itself to know something others do not).
    When I get to the end I realize I’ve gone the long way round, and try to double back by a different path that I think will take me where I need to go, but after a few minutes I realize it will only take me further away from the parking lot (my belief that false thoughts and self~doubt complicate the simple techniques I am working, making my travel take longer to achieveb /as well as a dose of humility). I go back the way I came but it takes me to a whole new part of the school that I’m unfamiliar with, a place where newcomers first start their tour of the school (my ideas of life in waves, that we all work the same exercises but on different levels. I’d been there before, obviously, but had no memory of it.) An older man, probably the parent of a student, comments on how huge the school is as he looks over a balcony at descending stairs, which fall into the depths of a vast crevasse of marbled walls (a recurring dream image, usually represented by a marble docking bay for alien spacecrafts). I am interested in where it might go but don’t take the stairs.
    As I head out the front door to the parking lot I realize that I’ve forgotten my keys in the classroom (typical ‘me’ thing to do). Just thinking about how to find my way back is intimidating. I go down the hall through the cafeteria. A boy with long hair pulled back in a small bun, whom I recognise from my class, sees me and straightens his hair. It seems that he doesn’t want anyone to recognise him, like he is ashamed of waiting tables in between classes. I think to myself that if he only knew that I wasn’t judging him he wouldn’t mind as much.
    I began to recognise where I am, passing a library, a(nother) tiny room that one has to have a secret password to enter. I look inside just as a girl with long braids comes out. I know that anyone can access any kind of information there but it looks like there are very few books.
    At last I ffind the teacher’s lounge again, just in time to see the three girls yelling and crawling around on the floor. They are trying to kill a bug that is attempting to eat a grasshopper with two heads. One of the heads is a normal head, but the second is smaller and grows out of its chest. I wonder why the grasshopper is so important to them. I don’t understand why they are so upset.

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  2. Been thinking a lot lately about a dream I had in the year 2000, my “Dream To End All Dreams”, so to speak. Aside from the dream of the 64 Doors, this dream has been the most memorable of any, the dream I will never forget.

    My friend Sarah and her mother have asked me to go to church with them, which I am not completely excited about. IWL (in waking life), Sarah is not religious but her mother is. I travel with them to a vast temple, and after sitting in the Christian Room for awhile I decide to explore the rest of the Temple, as I feel that the message is not for me.
    The Temple is full of rooms, and in each room a different religious denomination is meeting. These denominations are completely acceptant of one another. I go from one room to another, eventually finding my own people, who are dressed in red robes and wearing the same necklaces: a circle of stone on a leather strap. As I walk into the room they all greet me, their necklaces floating horizontally, as does the one I am wearing, which I only now realize I have on. I feel at home here, yet I am drawn after awhile to continue to wander and explore.
    I walk down several flights of stairs and enter this extensive underground tunnel, a docking bay carved out of marble in the shape of what appears to be a giant space craft. I wonder at it for awhile until I notice a narrow stairway going up into the Temple.
    After climbing many stairs I find myself in a room overlooking the Temple grounds. I can see everything from here, even the curve of the Earth on the horizon. Suddenly I am leaving my body and exploring the grounds. I can mesh myself with anything I wish, becoming one with the trees and grass, the sky. I become a puppy that children are playing with on a playground, then I become the child that is stroking the puppy.
    Eventually I come back to my body, getting really excited about the discovery of this Room of Astral Travel. Somehow I manage to go home and get my daughter and nephew, bringing them back to the Temple and teaching them how to explore away from their bodies. At one point Sarah and her mother come up to the room, warning me away from teaching the children this art. I can’t understand why they don’t want me to share this newly~found room with the world. As much as they try to draw me away from the room I don’t leave, trying in turn to convince them to give it a try. They will not, and eventually they leave.
    I leave my body and explore the world as the kids are. But while I am away I sense an evil presence in the room and turn to see a man with dark circles under his eyes holding my cat. By the time I rush back to my body he is gone. I look across the Earth on the entrance side of the Temple and see a dark land which has a huge, dark palace in the center of it. The land is on fire there, and the fire line separates the lush, green grounds of the Temple from the “Dark Country”.
    I leave my body and go to the palace. There is a family of dark people at a large, expensive table eating dinner. It is a husband and wife and some boy children, and I can sense the unrest and hidden intentions of the man, who is the leader of that land. I can sense how unhappy the wife and children are. I notice that the food on their plates is dead meat, rotten and maggot~ridden. I retract from the palace in horror, aware of the man’s intentions to attack the Temple.
    A great war ensues, and I watch the beginnings of it from the Astral Room. Many troops enter the Temple grounds, and the people of the Temple defend the streets of a city on the Temple grounds that I had previously not noticed. The troops of the Dark Country are setting the city on fire. The clouds are in turmoil, and at one point they form a giant fist which speeds down to the ground and slams into the Earth. This causes a great tidal wave to wash over the city, putting out the fires and sweeping the enemy away but leaving the many~denominations dry and safe. The tidal wave moves over the Dark Country, putting out fires there as well.
    Further insurgents attack the Temple; it seems as if there are too many of them. Many of us are taken captive. They have lined up rows and rows of fold-out metal chairs along the fire line and have tied those of us taken prisoner to the chairs. They are watching us closely, but there are so many of us that they cannot watch us all. We are taking the coins from our pockets and sharpening them as weapons. We will defend the Temple to the very end, regardless of the cost.

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  3. Three Nights~Three Visits

    I had heard about a man who was having dreams about visiting his dead relatives. Afterwards I had three dreams, three nights in a row, about visiting people and animals that are no longer physically in this world.

    Night One: Great Grandmother, Great Aunt (mother’s side)

    I came upon a wreck at a t~crossing of two dirt roads. The man who had hit a vehicle was very upset because he had killed someone. I got the feeling it was completely accidental. He was black, driving a long white car, and he looked very much like my nephew’s father. He was standing alone by his car, which was embedded in this strange stage coach/camper thing, which was white but for where his car had hit it. That part looked black, burned.
    The vehicle he had hit was odd indeed. On top there was a place where people could sit in the open air, surrounded by metal railings, whose base was one of those camper vehicles that can be raised and lowered like an accordion (I think I know what I’m talking about here, hehe). The man who had gone to sleep in the camper part, which is only tall and wide enough for a couple of people to lay inside, was my great uncle, the sexual predator of my family. My first thought was “…didn’t he die years ago?”, and my second thought was joy, because he had caused so much harm to so many people; his own daughters, their cousins, any girl child he could get his hands on, while my great aunt looked on as if completely helpless to do anything about it. So many emotions flooded inside me knowing he was dead; the feeling me and my sister have had our entire lives that we have been sexually abused, though neither of us can remember any incidents, the stories after his death of the damage he had wrought upon our family and the realization of how devastated his daughters were and how their lives have turned out.
    I looked up to the sitting area of the vehicle to see my great grandmother and my great aunt (his wife) sitting there with these glazed, fish~eye looks on their faces. My first thought was “But…you are both dead!” which was very confusing to me. In their faces I could read a strict denial that my uncle had been killed, mixed with a silent, secret joy that he was at last dead. I could read in them that duty was what had allowed them to let him continue on uninhibited, but that their lives had been absolute horror because of him. They could not act joyous, and never would. Perhaps they would go home and cry themselves to sleep in private, and that would be the extent of their expression. On waking I wanted to talk to each person in my family who he had harmed, to tell them that he was dead and console them in some way, but they are lost to me, I don’t even know where any of them are.

    Night Two: Kitty Farm

    It’s as if I awoke to the realization that my cats were no longer with me. I remembered having been asked if someone could take them to a farm, but for the life of me I couldn’t imagine why I would allow someone to do that.
    I was really upset and talking to someone about it. “Why would I have allowed someone to take my cats to live somewhere else when they have a home they love right here?” The person explained that there had been a slew of baby kittens on a farm whose mother had died, and that I had donated my cats to go and raise the kittens. That seemed to sit with me well enough; it seemed to be for a good cause. But I was worried that the farm wasn’t a good enough place for them, so I wanted to go visit.
    When I came upon the cats they were milling about in the hay. Every cat I’ve ever owned that has died, and some that I had lost contact with were there. They all looked very well, healthy and happy. They were playing and having fun. The first to come up to me was my “cat of cats”, my first cat of adulthood. Her name was Kittykuffs, and she was a Norwegian Forest Cat, a snow kitty with long fur. She was pleased to see me and came to let me pet her. The second cat to come up to me was Emmy, her sister, aloof as always. She gave me a look like “Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.” but let me pet her and then went on. The Corny came up to me, a child of Kittykuffs.
    Many cats came and went that I have owned in the past. Some were playing in the field and didn’t come up because they were having too much fun. One of these was a cat named Roach, who I didn’t remember on waking but a friend of mine did. I’ve had many cats over the years.
    One cat came up to me who I’ve never forgiven myself for giving away: Batty. She was absolutely perfect in every way. She never mewed, never soiled anything, never did anything wrong, ever. A couple of cats got pregnant at the same time and I was too poor to do anything about it. I had to give her and her newborn litter to the Humane Society, and I’ve never forgiven myself for it. Batty let me pet her, and I could tell that she didn’t hold it against me. This meant very much to me. On waking I was able to let the guilt go for the first time ever.

    Night Three: Great Grandma (in-law, ex)

    Great Grandma was a slave in the cotton picking days. She suffered more than anyone ever understood, but she never said a word about it. She had 14 children of her own, who were all grown, and had raised her grandkids, my husband and his brother. She took me in when my newly~wed husband was in boot camp, and raised me like her own. She was the first real mother I ever had, and I never got to thank her for all she did for me. Until this dream.
    In the dream she was talking to me but I can’t remember what she said. Her teeth were out, and I’d never seen her without her teeth before. We were just sitting and talking, and just being in her presence reminded me of who she was. It’s been so long since she died, twenty years or more.
    It wasn’t that she wouldn’t accept my thanks, rather that she felt there was nothing to thank her for. It was a completely sensible thing to do to take me in like she did. She had raised my husband and I was his wife. But I could feel the love she had for me, and that was a good feeling because, back then, I was so lost and confused and have often wondered if I was good to her. I now know she loved me as her own, and that means everything to me.

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  4. The 64 Doors

    In 2005 I contracted a severe stomach flu. It was so intense that I was unconscious for the better part of three days. My sister took care of me and tended to my daughter. I don’t remember much about that three days, only that upon waking I immediately wrote a poem based off of the dream I’d had. The poem, itself, was given to me by the dream, written in one sitting and never altered. I’m currently looking for a copy of that poem so I can post it here. The dream has become a reality, so it is easy to remember it in full detail.

    The dream began with my boss at the time having retained a job for us. Me and my coworker, my boyfriend at the time, show up at this huge mansion to do some painting. At first we wander around the place. It seems like each room is more exquisite than the next. We find one room whose cathedral-sized walls are all glass, with a chaise lounge here and there. Unexpectedly my boss and boyfriend both lay down on separate chairs and go to sleep. I am curious about this, because there is still so much to explore.
    I leave them and wander through the house. I go down some stairs and enter a large underground room (both wandering away from my group and stairs are evident in all epic dreams I’ve had). This room is actually a cave. The walls are made of stone but it is a specific design, like the cave was made by hands that carefully placed one flat, rounded stone on top of another, giving the walls a ribbed look. There is water in a depression in the floor, clear and crystal green. There is also light coming from what looks like a hole beneath the water leading out. I dip into it and swim through the hole. This takes me to a place outside in the mountains where other people are wading. One woman with a red shirt and brown hair is watching her chocolate lab puppy playing in the water.
    I notice that it is as if we are standing at the mouth of a water slide. The surface is smooth and flat. All at once we all notice this and, as if someone has told us to go, we all sit down and begin sliding down the water slide. It takes us through the mountains. At one point there is a part of it that goes up to another peak, but we know we aren’t supposed to go that way so we continue on. Around a curve is a steep down~slope through rainforests. We come to a bowl-shaped area of the slide, where we wait and enjoy the view. After awhile we continue on.
    I come out on a white beach. The water slide is done. I notice that no one else is with me, that I am suddenly alone. A brown man is standing there looking at me. He has a sugar~bowl haircut and wears conch shells around his neck. Though he says nothing his face is welcoming. He turns and leaves. I stand up and walk down a white sand path, past rice patties on either side. The path t’s off, one part of it going into the rainforest and another going to a lake. I take the right path to the lake.
    It is a green rainwater lake surrounded by weeping willows whose branches dip down into the water. On the right side of the lake towards the middle are stilted huts beside a dock that has a grey, American-style house on it…very curious. I get into the water and swim to the dock, noticing how warm and inviting the water is. Once at the dock I shimmy up a wooden pole to its surface, noticing that it is made of bamboo poles which have been tied together.
    A man appears beside me, and somehow I know that he is the Keeper of the Doors. He has a white halo of hair around his bald head and he is very kind. He tells me without speaking that I am not yet ready to go to the Doors. I acknowledge this fact, but walk up to them to take a closer look. I realize that these buildings are made of jade; there are four small huts altogether, three parallel to the dock with one building sitting behind them. There are four arched, jade door frames on each side, leading into darkness. I count to myself; four doors each side of four sides, four huts with 16 doors a piece: 64 Doors. I know that I am supposed to return here, and feel pressed to let the others know about this place. In a flash I have returned to the mansion, but my boyfriend and boss are gone. My father and brother are there waiting for me. I tell them about the Doors and urge them to follow me, which they do, but once I get to the beach I am alone again.
    Then I woke up.
    This dream has changed my life in every way. My master has taken me back to the Doors and shown me how to return to them whenever I want; not just in a dream but anytime. I have returned to the Doors about once every year and a half. In ten years I have solved eight Doors. Each is a puzzle presented by a Door is solved in life. I am presented with a puzzle in the room behind the Door and over a period of weeks or months life presents the answer of what the Door is asking. Each time, it was a lesson that I needed to further my personal integration.
    I am attempting to write the complete story of the Doors to post here. It will be a prolific work. It’s a shame I haven’t been writing it down all this time. I do not know where I would be today without this most intriguing practice.

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    • Here’s the poem of the 64 Doors.

      The Map

      Please follow me in dreams
      a wondrous place as i’ve ever been
      and at our journey’s end
      a mystery our souls shall serve at death.
      Let us begin in a cave
      with rock as brown and warm as wood,
      formed to fit a perfect shape
      a floor as smooth as serpent scales.
      Now, through that shadowed,
      echoed cool a flawless,
      aquamarine pool awaits
      opening to crystal cascades.
      One flows to where high mountains meet
      that path is not for us to take –
      we go down, down.
      Simply sit upon the clay
      and ride the clear green waterway.
      A meeting place we pause
      rainforest tops stretch on for miles
      and, for awhile, we sun in smiles
      until we’re beckoned further on.
      Slide south again these fertile lands
      give way to simple, bone white sands
      whose guardians of deep brown skin
      acknowledge us their gentle kin.
      Ladened wet patties of grain
      house a lake of deep green rain:
      our destination.
      Surrounded mossy willows bend
      a stilted home of grey the host
      a noble halo of white hair
      gives permission us to tarry there.
      This sacred place
      some destiny awaits
      four stilted dwellings of jade
      arched doors to darkness, four
      each side, four sides…
      sixteen doors – in all, sixty four.
      Never been beyond that dark
      but when i look inside i know,
      i know this place is where we all must go
      and inside things we all must see.
      Oh, someday, dream this place with me.

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  5. ~* The Elephant Spider*~

    My Other and I had bought this little plot of land in the side yard belonging to a young couple. We are hoeing and cleaning it up for planting. We are talking to the couple, who is also doing work on their yard. I look down at our little grave~sized plot and realize that I had left pieces of clothing strewn here and there from last summer, and had not mown the grass around it for some time. I am frustrated with myself because a road runs along the side of their house and I realize that everyone that has driven by all winter long has seen the mess I left. I felt responsible and began cleaning it up.
    I would expect them to be upset with me for leaving our share of their yard in such a state, but they are friendly, talking to us about the road that passes their house. When I explain to them that it makes a huge circle around the lake and comes back to meet up with the road that goes in front of their house they are surprised, never having known where it went. While I am talking I envision the road in my mind’s eye. On the curve of the lake before it comes back around and becomes the outer road, a little part of it breaks off into a smaller road and then returns.

    *Upon waking I returned to the dream and walked down the road to see where the smaller road goes: it curves around into a little park with pine trees that sits along the bank of yet another, larger lake across the road from the original lake. Return to your dreams and explore them sometime by simply envisioning the dream just as it was, and then exploring the parts you’ve not been to yet. If nothing comes to mind, imagine what you would like to have found. It doesn’t matter if it is “real” or not, the processes of creation and imagination are what is important. Give it a try.*

    As I am picking up clothing I see a dark blur moving quickly away from me out of the corner of my eye. I look over and see an enormous spider moving towards the duplexes next door. One of the doors is open and the spider crawls up the siding and into the apartment. I am horrified, guessing that the spider was under one of the pieces of clothing I had picked up. I couldn’t exactly say “Oh, well” and allow the spider to possibly bite someone. Again I felt the responsibility of my situation: it was up to me to retrieve the spider.
    I walk over and into the apartment. A single mother and her three small children are inside. They don’t even ask why I am there or seem confused. I notice that the ceiling is torn away and falling down in some places, and beyond the drywall is a huge space that is stories high. It is so large that it seems near~infinite to me. I know that if the spider got up there I would never be able to retrieve it. I think to myself that the woman and her children are going to have no choice but to move.
    Just then I look behind me and notice a dog~legged corner heading into the master bedroom. As I am wondering where to start looking the spider comes trucking out of the bedroom on the wall, moving towards me. It’s making a sound, a man’s deep voice that is saying “Doo~too~doo” and humming to itself like it’s happy and completely oblivious to everything around it. I look around for something to catch it with but there is nothing. I know it will be big trouble if it gets up in the ceiling, but I have no way to stop it. It comes around the corner and starts heading up into the ceiling and I think to myself “Well, that’s that.”
    I watch it disappear into the huge space, but then it curves around and starts coming back down towards me. I wonder to myself why it would return when it knows we are trying to catch it.
    By now the woman and kids are interested in what I’m trying to accomplish. The spider crawls down the wall, with our full attention, and on to an all~glass entertainment center where the television is. It actually stops moving for the first time, pausing on the back of the piece of furniture. I can see these huge eyes on its underside that I never could see before; it is looking us over. There are two long “arms” on either side of its face, really sharp and pointy with “elbow”~style joints on them, and a long protuberance coming out of its mouth that looks as if it could pierce through bone. I realize how dangerous it could be.
    The creature absolutely disgusts me. It has this fan~shaped tail like a crawfish, with long, black hair coming out of one side of it and long, white hair coming out of the other side. The tail is pink and fleshy and makes me want to gag, and the eyes are big and googly, moving independently of each other. It doesn’t really look like a spider at all, and in the dream I think to myself that it’s an “elephant spider”, while thinking to myself that it looks more like a “mollusk”, with a hard, concave back shell.
    It’s strangely quiet now…until one of the little boys rushes it from behind with a cardboard box. It starts moving again, crawling down on to the carpet, humming along as if it has not a care in the world. The little boy throws the box to a little girl and she tosses it to me. I throw the box on top of it and then somehow flip it over and close the lid. I start dragging the heavy thing towards the door, feeling it cutting through the box and digging into the carpet with its arms.
    Suddenly the box gets very light. I lift it up to see that the spider has cut through the box and fallen into a hole in the floor: the air vent. Everyone in the room sighs, exasperated that I dragged the box across the hole. I didn’t know it was there. I’m as exasperated as everyone else. The little girl hands me a small flashlight. I look into the hole and see the spider moving away from me into an equally~infinite space of metal venting. It stretches out and out and so deep into the Earth. I think to myself again, “Well, that’s that.”
    I accidentally drop the flashlight into the hole. It falls, illuminating the back of the spider moving away from me. The vibration of the flashlight catches its attention and it turns and starts heading back my way. As with its escape to the ceiling I wonder to myself why it would come back when it is free to leave. The way it is humming so good~naturedly to itself makes me wonder if it’s not going to retrieve the flashlight for me before disappearing forever.
    It moves past the flashlight and starts coming back up through the hole, which freaks me out. I’ve got to figure out how to catch this thing for good! It pops its head through and then turns around, moving back down into the hole. Desperately I grab for it. It is on the “ceiling” of the vent, under the lip of the hole. My fingers catch its tail, trapping its tail between my fingers and the vent wall. I can feel it trying to escape my grasp, twisting and turning. The tail is so fleshy and disgusting beneath my fingers that I want to let it go but I won’t.
    It pulls free and comes out of the hole, and the little girl throws me a curtain with plastic backing and I throw it over the spider and pick it up by its thick back plate. The sharp protuberance comes out of its mouth and pricks my finger: a warning.

    *As I wake up I can still feel the place where it pricked my finger. What was odd was that I bounced up out of bed very excitedly, feeling as if a huge weight had been taken off my shoulders. The first thought that came to me when thinking about the meaning of the dream is “humility”, though at the time I didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t until I was explaining the dream to my Other that the full scope of the meaning blew me away.

    I have not been meditating lately because I have taken on too much in life. Between studying and several jobs I’ve felt increasingly unable to breathe. My house payment is months behind because the new college has been more expensive than I had thought it would be. Due to racially~charged events at school recently I’ve been reminded how white I am and how “privileged” I am and I’ve begun to resent white people for continuing the cycle of hate. My classmates have attacked me (gently) for having a “rose~coloured” view of life, and I have become frustrated at them due to their entirely negative outlooks and utterly dark view of the future of human relations.

    Though I didn’t realize it until this dream, I have lost my calm, my inner peace. I look at the world from a negative viewpoint. My health has gone drastically downhill. I’ve spent a solid month sick and in and out of the hospital. I have experienced an incredible amount of poverty, barely able to get by, not able to pay for my car breaking down and an excessive amount of household projects. One of my cats had an allergic reaction and has been suffering so much from itching that she refuses to come inside but to eat, even when it is very cold outside. The guilt of her suffering is ever~present, as I’ve had no money to take her to the vet. It seemed like everything in my life was falling apart, and I began to believe that nothing was going to get better.

    It’s a game we play, the Awakening Ones, moments of bliss followed by ages of unhappiness. It’s how we awaken, a little bit at a time; forgetting that the pain is what makes us reach towards the light, allowing our thoughts to take control of us, forgetting that within the silence is safety and protection. Eventually the pain is the smallest part of our lives and the bliss the largest, but it takes time. We will always dance this dance, and to honour the dance is to learn how to dance as quickly as possible.

    Thank the stars for my Other, holding everything together as I fell apart. The first part of this dream reflects my inability to tend to household needs. The people represent those from whom I am buying my house; though I am late on house payments my friends have been wonderful about it. The road that goes past their house in the dream, the one that I knew about but they did not, represents my inner knowing that I am headed in the right direction, taking the scenic route that inevitably returns the direction we are headed. Maybe no one can see it yet, but I know where it all leads.

    The “elephant spider” is a mix of several symbols. Though I’m not quite sure what the mollusk aspect means, except that, perhaps, it shell makes it tough to destroy, but I do know that an elephant is a wise, knowing creature that goes about its own business and takes care of its own. The white and black hair represents the yin/yang aspect of the symbolism. The troubles of this world are not good or bad, they are simply indicators of what direction we are headed. They, in and of themselves, are not meaning to hurt anyone, but through us they have a great power to cause harm to others and to ourselves. It’s up to use to gain control of our emotions and thoughts, to prevent ourselves from causing us from taking a direction that would be damaging to ourselves or others.

    As for the single mother and her children, she was white and her children were mulatto. This represents myself, who is white with a mulatto child, as well as the situation at school recently that has caused so much negativity in me. As you can see, my past two posts have been about race and suffering. I’ve been trying to make sense of my own feelings, to lift myself up from the hole I’d fallen into. As I thought of the responsibility the dream symbolized throughout, I realized that for years I have taken on the banner of the wrongs of white people to other races. I have always secretly been racist towards my own kind for their lack of compassion and their lackadaisical attitude towards making the world a more equal place for all races. I’m more comfortable around people of different races than my own. It’s all judgment, no matter who it is directed towards.

    The more I thought about it I realized that the idea of “white privilege”, a comment made to me often during this time, had hurt my feelings and made me feel bad….as it does with everyone who is so privileged. I felt it was my responsibility to accept the privilege of my situation, and that people were somehow asking me to feel bad for being something I could not help. Inside it infuriated me, though I hid that knowledge from myself. As I mentioned in my post “The Rose~Coloured Universe”, this dream made me come to the conclusion that claiming one person’s privilege over another is ineffectual in making any change in the situation at all. All it succeeds in doing is spreading bad feelings, furthering the blame, because those who need to realize how good they have it refuse to acknowledge their privilege. The only people who acknowledge privilege are those who already have a heart for the suffering of others. I realized that it is not my responsibility to carry the sins of the compassionless facets of my race, and that I have been doing that for my entire life.

    I have witnessed the Next, a place where all are One. Even having visited the worlds beyond death it is easy to forget what we are and how things really are. We get lost in forms, identities and thoughts and lose sight of the big picture.

    This dream not only made me let go of what I do not have a responsibility for, it allowed me to look at the things that I do owe responsibility to. My emotions. My thoughts. My actions. This dream set me free of the stones I had been weighing myself to the bottom of the ocean with. Suddenly I could breathe. It’s back up the ladder with me.

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  6. ~*10 Pillars*~

    My Other and I, our two sons and my daughter are all living in the house I grew up in. I am getting ready for the day, standing in the living room before anyone gets up, wearing only a tshirt and underwear. Suddenly my daughter comes opens the front door, which doesn’t have a screen on it. I bend down behind the couch to hide myself and ask her to close the door. She says that she has brought a bunch of people with her. I can see some of them behind her and don’t recognise any of them. I ask her in an irritated voice if she could not bring them in because I’m not dressed yet, but they all start piling through the door. I get really angry at her because she’s acting as if she’s helpless to stop it.

    The people are all colors and ages. I recognise Robert Moss the dream teacher amongst them. They wander towards the back of the house as I gripe at my daughter for letting them in, all the while feeling as if I’m being petty and repeating myself, holding on to my anger. I’m also angry because the house is filthy and not ready for visitors, but as I walk to the back of the house to see where they’ve all gone, I see that my Other has, at some point, done hours worth of cleaning and the house is spotless. The boys are in their room and he is with them. I wonder when he had time to do that amount of cleaning and why I didn’t realize that he’d done it.

    Apparently the people have all wandered out the back door. As I walked outside they were coming around the bamboo forest and back to the house. They walk all together and seem very mellow and amiable. They seem as if they are all very close. It is then that my daughter tells me that they are part of a spiritual group that she has recently joined. Knowing this, I’m not angry they are there anymore.

    I find myself in a salon with my twin sister, which feels like it’s in a mall or somewhere similar. There’s a machine there that does tattoos for people and I am choosing one. I choose a word that is very intricately designed in silver and blue (now I can’t remember what the word was). A woman asks me to lay down on my stomach on a sort of cushion on legs, and I’m bending over it with my feet still touching the floor. She asks me to scoot up and I do, suddenly realizing that I didn’t want the tattoo above my behind where they are putting it.

    The machine clamps down and starts the tattoo along my waistline in the back. I think to myself that this is what people call a “ho tag”, and that I’ve never wanted a tattoo there. The machine is very painful, so much so that I want to stop it, but by the time I am prepared to ask her to stop it the tattoo is done. She compliments me on the tattoo, says it’s lovely, as does my twin. But I realize that I’ll never be able to see it, even with a mirror, and I’m frustrated about that fact.

    My sister is driving and I am in the passenger’s seat. We are on a series of overpasses that give us a wide view of this sprawling, futuristic city whose many skyscrapers are all white-silver and blue. I think to myself that I do not recognise this city, though I should. I try to think where I am, and though I remember the name of the city I think how odd it is that I don’t recognise it even though I’ve been there so many times. There are so many skyscrapers, which are all thin and very tall, myriad heights but all the same width.

    As I look the skyscrapers over I notice the sky behind them. To my terror I realize that there are these behemoth, evenly~spaced pillars of cloud that resemble tornadoes, which is my first thought. I think about every dream I’ve ever had related to tornadoes and that they usually mean something bad is going to happen in our family. I mention to my sister that there are huge tornadoes in the sky, but she’s not paying much attention. I start looking around 360 degrees and realize that they are everywhere around us. Though I don’t count them I know that there are ten of them. I’m expecting any minute for them to begin destroying the city, but they act almost as if they are guarding it. It’s just their size, as well as the coal~colored clouds swirling about in them as if held back by an invisible barrier.

    As we head to an off~ramp, one of the pillars bends down in front of us, and the thick smoke is billowing out at us. I am scared but my sister isn’t. She drives right through it and it dissipates.

    I told my sister about the dream this morning. She’s a Christian, and found references in the Bible to a pillar of cloud as one of the manifestations of the presence of God. One such pillar guided the Israelites by day during their exodus from Egypt, while a pillar of fire guided them by night. She also mentioned that God told Abraham that he would not destroy Sodom if 10 righteous men could be found there. Interesting.

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    • I have been thinking about this dream a lot the past few days and came here hoping I had written it down. Fascinating! I’d only remembered the last part. Reading back through it now, it’s the description of what I’ve experienced the past three weeks.
      My twin sister disappeared suddenly from the city we live in, to reappear in a convent to the North. This dream details my personal emotions during the entire experience.
      ~*In the first part of the dream, my Other, our sons and daughter are living in the house I grew up in. A couple of months before she left, my sister suddenly cut ties with me, exhibiting what I perceived to be symptoms of the family mental illness that my mother succumbed to. These thoughts affected my entire family as I became depressed and struggled with fear and old abandonment issues.
      ~*My daughter represents my sister in this part, representing the feelings I had about needing to protect her, to look after her because she was not mentally stable. In the dream my daughter lets a group of people come in when I was not yet dressed, representing the people at the convent, and my shock at her sudden disappearance at a time when I felt we were needing to be together and find a way to work through whatever was wrong with her.
      ~*I complain to my daughter but let the people in, worried that my house is a filthy mess. I feel petty for my anger. In my dreams a dirty house is a common theme, representing the less beautiful parts of me that I have yet to integrate. Once I discovered that my sister had gone to a convent part of me wanted her to explain her actions and apologize, considering that her son and entire family had thought she might be dead for an agonizing week. But mostly I wanted her to apologize to me. I wanted to hold on to my pain, to make her answer for it, all the while knowing it was time to let it all go and start from scratch again. After all, she’s in a convent.
      ~*Just as in the dream, when I learned that the people she was with were spiritual, it made me feel better knowing she would be cared for and protected.
      ~*The tattoo part is specific. I was feeling great pain due to a tattoo in a place I didn’t want. Throughout our abuse as children my sister was always by my side. We always had each other no matter what was going on, and trusted each other unquestionably. As she has struggled with mental illness, my sister has increasingly turned on me without cause, and that trust has faded. I didn’t want pain there, in the place in my heart where she resided. And even if her joining a convent would prove to be something beautiful, that she has gone away perhaps forever, I may never be able to see the beauty of her transformation, i.e. reaping the rewards of the words I have chosen and the pain I’ve endured. She has told me that the convent is beautiful, but it’s a place I would not be allowed.
      ~*The drive to another city and the tornadoes waiting there is the part I remembered. In my family, tornadoes always mean family troubles. In the dream we drove to a city that seemed unfamiliar though I had been there many times. My sister has never in her life disappeared until now, but she has isolated herself from her family more and more the past couple of years. The city was beautiful, silver and blue just like the tattoo. I wonder if those are colors that she sees a lot at the convent. It will be interesting to find out! The tornadoes seem to be “guarding” the city though they terrify me, but she is not the least bit afraid. She knew where she was going before any of us did. The “pillars” she later translated as the manifestation of God, specifically during the Israelite’s exodus from Egypt. I would say that appropriately describes her exodus from a life that she couldn’t bear to live anymore.
      I couldn’t have read this any sooner, as I’ve done a lot of house cleaning lately. 🙂 I’m no more grieving and only happy that she has found a safe place, and that she is in good hands. The dream told me so. ~*<3*~

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      • Another note on that. I just re~read that a Keeper of the Doors, Robert Moss, was one of the people in the group that came into my house. In the trials I’ve experienced since my sister left, I’ve found that returning to silence is the only direction. When all seems lost and you return to silence, there is a communion, an embracing of the battered sailor. Silence is the Beacon.

        I saw two white birdcages in passing in a single week, making me think of Door Four. At that Door I approached the second of Keepers, a dark~haired woman that lives in a house there, empty but for white bird cages. My feelings for my sister caused me to loathe myself, and when feeling these things I found myself sitting there in the center of the empty room on clean wood flooring staring at the bird cages alone and imagining what the Keeper would say if she walked in from washing her clothes in the lake. The only other time I have been in her presence she was very solemn and gruff, and it didn’t seem like she liked me very much…rather, that I was just another traveler and she tired of them all. I imagined a host of scenarios, none of them joyful, but as I sat there wondering which one was real it occurred to me that all of them were me. I was there because I felt caged by myself, desperate to be anyone else, just as I had when I was young. I no longer knew which one of them was the real me.

        Just as I was sitting there in the floor I knew who I was and it was none of those I had imagined. Sitting here now I return to her. She is none of those that I imagined. She walks in, a wet, white dress between her hands, the red in her hair evident. The look she gives me is that of a mother whose child has just come home for the first time in a long time. Her face changes into that of my spirit mother, and I realize that when she left this world part of her stayed at the Doors to watch over me. She, too, was beautiful, lithe, and gruff. Beautifully troubled. The cage doors fly open.

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