Two days ago I dreamed this:
I am working for my former business partner, and am with L (former employee). I am trying to access online orders, and noticing that they aren't showing up in the email account. I can't quite make out the subject lines.
My awareness expands to outside the building and I realize the police are coming to arrest us.
L disappears, I stretch out on a bench, and think "cloak of invisibility", and remain in plain sight, while the police search the place. I am amazed that this works, one of them passes by so close that he nearly touches me.
They finally leave the building I am in....I wait until the coast is clear, then sneak into another shed to get my purse. The plan is to take my ID and cash which will fit in my pockets, and leave everything else.
I reach for my purse, see 'rangers' passing by through the window, and switch the light on, bright white light floods the room.
I immediately know, I'm busted. It's dark outside and they could see the light, I totally gave myself away. I look for a place to hide, consider hiding behind the door and realize that won't work because the door will hit me when they come in. I sling my purse over my shoulder and open the door. I face the man standing there and begin to feel as if I'm expanding...bigger...bigger...bigger...the man puts handcuffs on my wrists that I hold out in front of me.
What I notice about these handcuffs is that they are polished wood, like large bracelets, they fit comfortably and they do not have locks or latches. The man at the door wants me to know they are meant to be that way, they aren't meant to hurt or bind. I continue to feel more expanded...and then woke up. As I awakened, I was amused and thought, "whaddya know, it was a dream!"
The dreamed turned round in my head today and I sat down to fantasize the dream further, it went in quite an unexpected direction:
"...I step outside, it is now daylight. I face the man, lower my hands, notice he has short dark hair and a mustache..
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"You'll see soon enough. It won't be so bad as you think. It's actually a surprise. You might even like it."
We walk into a building, and down a flight of stairs into a dark basement. A lone, bare lightbulb hangs on a cord from the ceiling, sputtering a harsh, dim, blue light.
I ask, "is this where you are going to interrogate me?"
"Not hardly," he snorts. In that moment, I know this man's name is Marco.
We walk through an open door into a dark underground tunnel. I am wearing a deliciously soft and comfortable white cotton gown. I am barefoot and the ground beneath my feet is soft, damp, mossy earth.
We pass an open door on the right. Inside the dark room I see rows of nuns in black habits kneeling before a row of lit candles in dark red glass votives. They are holding rosaries and silently mouthing their prayers. One of the nuns looks up and gently nods her head to acknowledge me as we pass. She is young with small, even features. Dark, straight bangs rest on her forehead from beneath the white band of her habit. She exudes peace and acceptance.
I am wondering where we are - my thoughts are interrupted by the crack of a whip and an agonized wail. It's coming from ahead, to our left. We approach the open door to another room, the source of the sound. Sun is shining through a small, wood-framed, open window placed high on a bare, crumbling white plaster wall.
Before me is a cliche scene of a bare-chested man wearing a leather executioner's mask, whip in hand, ready to strike again. I move closer to see the object of his punishment. To my right is a slightly built man, wearing only a skimpy pair of leather shorts. He is standing with hands and legs spread wide, leaning against the wall. Six bright red welts adorn his back, all in a line from shoulder to lower back, running diagonally from upper right to lower left.
His face is contorted in pain, sounds coming from deep in his belly. The man with the whip pauses and looks blankly at me. The man being whipped howls and begs, "No, don't stop, please please, I need to feel something. Why? why? Why? Don't stop, please..." He sobs and pounds the wall, grabbing chunks of plaster.
I place my left hand on my belly, right hand on my heart, inhale and whisper, "Sophia, guide me," as I take in the scene.
It's all too much for me, I think. I want to stop it, I want to help, I want to change it, fix it, make it right...DO SOMETHING!! But it has to be the right thing, so it doesn't get worse.
I then realize I am no longer wearing handcuffs, and that Marcos' hand, warm and supportive, is on the small of my back. "Courage, love," he murmurs.
I stand there, breathing, taking it all in. My heart breaks as understanding flows. Again, I feel bigger, bigger, lighter, expanded. Joy fills my being. I begin to glow, to radiate a shimmering sliver-white light. I feel myself dissolving, yet my awareness and perception are crystal clear.
I have no boundaries, yet I stand there, touching my body, breathing...breathing. Strength and surety of knowingness fill me.
"What's to be done? Nothing," comes the answer. "Patience, wait, observe."
The moans fall away, the two men in the room dissolve in a shimmer of light. Marcos stands beside me, the room before me now empty and bare.
I wonder what to do with it now...
"Leave it be," Marco says. "In time vines will grow, cover the walls. New life will emerge here, nature will take her course and reclaim this space. The decay will feed new life and beauty shall come of it. "
I turn to face him. He places his right hand on my heart and my left hand over his..then my right hand on his heart with his left hand on mine. We gaze into each others' eyes, hearts beating in sync. His face blurs and changes ...one human face after another rises and falls...the faces of men, women, children, all shapes and colors morphing and morphing and shifting until what finally appears before me is a golden, shimmering being of sparkling eyes.
It is the Sophia, and she is me. All else falls away. I am home.http://www.spiritandflesh.com/AlexGreySophia.jpgI experienced a huge burst of energy when I completed writing this...Once I arrived home from work I was spontaneously moved to dance all over the house, I had so much energy I walked some of it off and still feel wired. I really expected to be writing a jail story, this is nothing like I've ever written before.