The dream took place in a large very old house or building. Jessica was with me, about her present age, or a bit older, ten or twelve perhaps. We were in a very big room that was dark and full of ancient things, objects, and maybe furniture. I think it was night time too, as I was holding a very large candlestick with about six or seven candles in it. The ‘forces of evil’ were assaulting us. These had no particular form, but seemed very real and capable of physical damage, and overall had the stereotyped imagery of gremlins and soul sucking creatures.
I was trying to hold back the attack; Jessica was slightly behind me to my left. I was using the candlestick a bit like a sword, and their light was important in my defense. At one point I was lighting the candles from another candlestick. But the main defense was my voice. I was singing a powerful rousing song expressing positive life and being. But my voice was difficult to express and faltering. So I started to push the sound out forcefully, shouting out the song. I woke myself – or my wife woke me – because I was shouting loudly the words ‘Higher. Higher’, meaning I must make my voice higher and louder to push back the assault.
Spontaneous response in entering the dream
I am entering this amazing room, so big and full of dusty things.
I feel I haven’t been lived in for a very long time. I have been empty for centuries. I am almost like the story of the Sleeping Beauty. I did exist. I went to sleep. I have been in a sort of a stasis for a long, long time. Also I have lots of things in me – who knows what they are – what is to be found in me?
The reason people have kept away from me is because I am haunted. Like the story of the Sleeping Beauty, unless you can find your way past the many briars that killed many princes, you can’t get to what’s there. Also this room is a younger part of me. There are much older parts underneath – deeper.
I have always been here. I have existed for a long long time. There is a way people have reached me in the past. They have used magic or ritual to get to me to find what treasures I might have. Many were unsuccessful. They were lost. They wandered. I am surrounded by a dark land. I am in a land of darkness. Many have wandered and been lost in the land of darkness. Nevertheless some found their way to me and even then they may not have succeeded in carrying away anything of value. Even if they did nothing is lost, because I am a magic place. I am an ancient and dangerous place. Tony does well to be afraid.
If I explain, if I tell you what I am – I am a palace. I was a wondrous palace. I am only a ruin of what I was. This building. This part of the building wasn’t a ballroom. It wasn’t an eating place. It was a place where certain things happened. It was a place where many people left things. They came here and they gathered and they left. It was a place of exchange. If you could bring something here, then you could take something away. Or you could take something away if you gave something.
There is an old story that has to do with how humans sold their souls. That is a degradation of what I am, what took place here. I am a place of exchange, not a place of selling. You would give something of yourself and gain something.
Strength makes some men weak. Some weakness makes some men strong. If I am to be entered, I can destroy strong men.
This is the story of the sleeping beauty. Jessica represents the sleeping womanhood in young females, that when it awakens is still innocent. It is still pure, and that is so rare in today’s world. Children are made old men and women so quickly with films and trying to live up to their peers. So the image of Jessica as a young girl shows her as still innocent. She becomes a woman. But she maintains her full flow of feelings, but it is not being put into images of particular sexuality. It still has its ideals and dreams.
The Seven Centres of Light
I relate to this with pleasure, with wonder, it is awake, but it is not doing anything. It is simply existing, and that is wonderful enough. And that calls up my flow of life – see old dream about calling up the sea creature with the jewel at its forehead.
I have got to light all the candles and keep them alight. They are the different centres in my body – the seven churches in the New Testament, the seven candles on the Jewish candlestick, the seven chakras in yoga. I must keep them alight and not let the influences of the world diminish them.
I am feeling that I do not need to do battle with those ‘evil’ forces. They are like dreams. They seem to have substance and so one reacts them, but they aren’t substance at all.
It feels as if something is happening in my forehead, as if my eyes are being transferred up onto my forehead. Or the ability to see is being transferred to my forehead. As if I need to learn to see again.
There followed a period in which I spontaneously talked in the ‘tongues’ as in SR or latihan. After each period of ‘tongues’ there followed a ‘translation’ of what I had said or what I was intending to say.
I am laughter.
I am life.
I love life.
I am waiting.
Finding my Kingdom
It feels as if the fantasy of the dream is continuing. It is as if a part of me is saying – wasn’t it myself I came to look for to face these feelings? In other words didn’t you face these feelings of evil and fear to find ME – or myself?
Didn’t you face death and madness for me? Isn’t it I that you love? Am I not yourself – who has been asleep these long years, these many centuries?
This is another story. This is the story of Kimberly I was trying to write awhile back. This is what I was trying to write.
I was the prince of this whole kingdom that is now in ruins.
In my pride – in my pride – I was ignorant. In my pride I was grasping for myself only. With all the power I had I wasn’t satisfied. In my pride I lost what was a jewel. A jewel that held the power to my kingdom. Without it I became powerless, blind, crippled.
This is all of the fairy stories. It is the story of Beauty and the Beast. You need to find innocent love, not grasping or jealous, possessive, and bending love. That is the jewel I lost. Without that you are locked in the dungeon of your body. Barred from that kingdom that you knew. Shut away in the senses only, the door closed and bolted.
I am asking forgiveness. To have lost something so precious. To not have valued it, but to have sought something other of no value, in order to control, to be in charge.
I am led by an inner voice to understand that there is nothing to forgive. One is ones own torment. One is punished by ones own acts. One locks oneself in a dungeon. And love comes searching for us. “Why have you left me?” it calls. “Why do you do this?”
All the dark things in the dream are the are the way one has tried to control life in oneself and the world. The ways one has bent and twisted things and made them ugly. The way one has tried to live ones life outside of everything. There is then a strange torment that one plays with oneself. It is the sense of inadequacy. So one will not allow oneself to have what is ones own. As if somehow you must earn it when it is already owned. It is as if one must atone. You don’t need to. You just need to say ‘I was wrong. I am sorry.’
This is my palace, such as it is, for I have neglected it. It is a dark place. But it can become light. It can become a place of wonder, a delight, a jewel, a place of light. The marvel of human creativity. The splendour of love and divinity married in human life.
Humility is the cornerstone of leading other people. I have spent a long time learning it. It took me many life-times to learn how to be happy. To recognise a truth. No matter how great we may become we are completely powerless and lost our life – if we become dead inside.
How Old am I
I am old. I am old – older than the pyramids.
In the past I was worshiped. I was a god. I was human but I was a god. I lived – I am not going to tell that story. It doesn’t need to be told.
I am living a story at the moment that I need to live. It is the story of a blind man, of the memory of living in darkness.
My dream is a statement of events that are taking place inside of me. I discovered in my life a love that could take care of a child. I have learned to be a parent. I have learned to be a woman. I have learned to allow the child to emerge. I have learned not to grasp and crush. I have learned to recognise – in blindness I have learned these things. I already knew before I was blind. I had to stumble and fall and know what it was to be blind, and pay for the mistakes. I begged to have my sight given me. I begged. I grovelled. I pleaded. But there is nothing to plead with. There is only ones self. Who was I trying to convince?
I have found my way back to my kingdom. Its hugeness, its age, its history, its accomplishment. The kingdom is, this building is, or was, the palace of the kingdom. It was the palace of the kingdom. It still is but it is in darkness. It is haunted by all the memories that have gathered over the many years from the mistakes one has made, and pains one has injected into other lives. They are difficult to face. Difficult to acknowledge as ones own. It is easier to think of them as evil spirits. Things sent to kill and devour.
I have things I have set myself to do in this lifetime. I thought I would never manage it. I fell so many times. I have come to tell people some wisdom, some truths, I have found over many lives. I wish to share. I do not wish to confront. I am simply another pilgrim. There are countless of us – we are like the stars in the sky – countless. We are the seeds of something that lived and died. In dying it dropped its seeds. I understand this much. I am the seed of something I as yet cannot conceive of. I may not manage my growth. I may try and fail. But there are many seeds, and this story has already been told. Some fall along the wayside. They perish, because there are no certainties. There is nothing to assure us of discovering our potential. We have forever. There is no time except in our life.
There are giants amongst us who have grown to become unrecognisable to us. If I look up. If I dare look up, I can see those I am kin to. They are of another order of things. There are points of transition along the way. What we call Christ is only a fellow traveller, who has already been this way, who has already made this journey. If you could see this being, you would know this is your – sibling.
I have found my way to my kingdom. The kingdom is what we have created of ourselves over many life-times. It is a palace, or hovel, whatever we have made of ourselves. It is our kingdom, our history, our place of birth and light. I am facing those demons, and I have to claim to claim what is mine.