Dreams, Fears and Conscious Spiritual Evolution: Is something changing?

What are dreams about? How do we come to terms with our fears? Is there something going while we are sleeping that we should all know about?

The following conversation is merely an approximation and represents the gist, not the exact content, of a real IM conversation held some years ago. The dream that followed represents a pattern, a dream-type that seems to be more than just the recounting of the day’s lessons: 

 Slightly-tilted Girl: Do you have bad dreams? 

Rahkyt: No. I haven’t had a bad dream in years.

Slightly-tilted Girl: Must be nice. Sometimes I have the kind that makes me wake up screaming and shouting with fear.

Rahkyt: I don’t recall ever having that type of dream. I am able to control my dreams.

Slightly-tilted Girl: Oh. Must be nice.

Rahkyt: It is. LOL

Rahkyt: Remember when we had that conversation about fear, and I said that I didn’t have any?

Slightly-tilted Girl: Yeah.

Rahkyt: Well, I do. I’m afraid for my children and their future. And I’m also afraid of what will happen when my parents die.

Slightly-tilted Girl: Those are good ones. I am, too.

 Approximately 6 hours later: 

 It was a twilight world, lush and verdant, the sound of strange whooping and supersonic twitters indicative of abundant and supernatural life. I wasn’t alone. With me were children and a few other companions, at least one of which was a guide. I cannot recall their faces in the haze of the dream-state, but I seemed to possess certain knowledge that the children were my own progeny. We followed a small, neat road that gradually declined into what seemed to be a deeper and darker region of the forest. 

 The trees loomed closer as we descended, turning the twilight into almost-night, and then we were through, into a circular clearing, within which squatted a surreal, menacing compound. A low, sprawling house lay at the opposite end of the clearing, its expanse disappearing beneath the canopy of the surrounding forest. Numerous, dark windows emanated sentience and the house seemed to have a presence that was aware of our arrival. As the road wended across the clearing, to the left of us was a caged enclosure, oval shaped and slightly derelict. The links were rusted and vines twisted their way through them in places. Within the cage was a wooden structure, a small pool and, something else. 

 It possessed what can only be described as an exaggerated human shape. If the thing had been standing, it would have been over three meters tall, but as it was stalking the close confines of the cage on all fours, its size was only slightly less terrifying. He was obviously male and quite pale-skinned, with lanky, dirty-blonde hair that hung over a face dominated by a pronounced, crooked nose. As I observed at the creature, I realized that there was something very strange about it and then, with a shock, realized what it was. Its body was inverted. Instead of its back facing the ground, two, pale pink nipples, encrusted with dirt stared at the sky. Its genital region was inadequately covered by a torn cloth of indeterminate color. Its knees and elbows were bent skyward, giving the creature a spider-like appearance. Conversely, its head was situated in a normal manner, chin toward the ground, head swaying from side to side and eyes staring forward dully, seeming not to notice our encroachment within its territory. 

 The words, ‘That is my son’, startled me out of my amazement and I turned toward the main house to find a short, old man with dense white hair covering his head and face standing close to us. He wore a white suit and thick, black glasses. His aura was kind, but exuded a disturbed, nervous aspect that washed over me, only adding to my increasing dread. 

More conversation followed and our small party followed the old man into the house, where the details of the dream grow blurred. The interior was dark and dense with possessions, books, curios, and weird statues filled small rooms punctuated by numerous doors leading further into the maze-like house. We had dinner, some discussion regarding the purpose of our visit - which had to do with procuring something, I believe - and then I and the children were shown to our room. 

 I slept, and was awakened - during this dream - by a clear feeling of sluggishness and alarm. My eyes opened to the sight of the creature looming over me, placing some sort of clear, plastic cup filled with a white, gaseous substance over my mouth. 

 The sheer stench of the thing was accompanied by a piercing sensation of hatred and evil, its dark, black eyes burning with an unadulterated malevolence. Sneering, slavering bile flowed from its cavernous maw and it turned from me, toward my children, its harmful intent apparent. An abject feeling of terror overcame me and I was animated by this primal urge toward protection and, as the energy built within me, my state of perception changed. 

 It was at this point that I became aware that I was dreaming lucidly and, as the energy surged within my astral form, in the real world I kicked, my legs twisting the bed sheets wildly askew and I could hear myself grunting in sheer terror, ‘uunhhh, uunhhh, uunhhh!’ as my torso rose slightly from the bed as well. 

 My wife’s voice, commanding me to ‘Stop that’, coincided with my eyes opening weakly, witnessing, directly above me and to the left, the retreat of a wispy, ethereal figure that mirrored the appearance of the terrifying creature of my dreams, its arms held out towards me, beckoning, or, more probably, releasing. The presence quickly evaporated into the darkness of the room as I came more fully into myself, leaving behind only a malevolent and wry amusement that permeated my conscious mind. I said nothing in response to my wife - being slightly embarrassed by my sleeping outburst - and I turned to face the wall and window of our bedroom, my mind whirling with the implications. I was soon asleep again, the rest of the nights dreamings lost in the depths of my subconscious mind. 

 Was this a conscious visit on the part of some otherworldly power, or was this just a subconscious fear manifesting during my dream-state? Was this creature a real Being that came to me that night in order to directly refute my earlier statement, made in a proud and vain manner; and, if so, why? Who sent it? What did this mean? 

Upon awakening this morning, the memory of this dream and my embarrassing conduct made me think that something is changing in the world around me. The last few nights have been very weird, as far as my dream-life has been concerned. I have been waking at odd intervals and having short, fleeting dreams that are quite vivid in nature, although most recede into the haze of the night. But a few have been memorable and, without making any extra effort, I have been remembering them the next day with very little effort, although that has been very difficult for me to do for years. I don’t have a history of night-terrors during the dream-state, so the coincidence of having this dream the same night that I had that IM conversation was absolutely too much to just pass off as insignificant. 

 During the last little while, the days have reflected the tumultuous behavior of my dream-life, being alternately sluggish and confused, my tongue belabored, my mind racing from here to there, with concentration difficult to achieve. A sense of overwhelming emotivity, short tempered interactions, emotions rising from nowhere and subsiding just as quickly, a yearning for peace and release from the pressures of the daily grind have all combined in what seems to be a crucible of time and space leading me directly to this place in my life. 

 I realize that my primary fears are directly connected to my children, and to their safety, and that, somehow, the energy matrix that were all connected to at a subconscious level is consciously working to bring our fears and desires forth, into the light of our direct awareness. At least, it seems so for me. Encompassing those fears and recognizing them is the first step to denying them power over our lives and moving past them into a true state of fearlessness. But the difficulty of doing so hardly needs mentioning. This is an important stage of self-evolution, related directly - to those familiar with Star Wars lore - to the example of Luke Skywalker facing himself in the Guise of Darth Vader in the Cave of Destiny, on Yoda’s planet. After doing so, he was able to direct The Force and truly achieve his destiny as a Jedi Knight. 

 Releasing this fear, again, is so hard to do, because it means releasing my children to their own destinies, not fearing for them and trusting the Multiverse to take care of them. For many of us, this sounds crazy. We can’t even conceive of seeming to not care for our loved ones, or want to protect them, because the logical continuation of this thought process, or transformed perception of reality, seems cold and callous to most people as exemplified by the question, ‘if somebody raped and killed your daughter and you saw that person and had the opportunity to do something to them, would you?’ 

 For me, right now, I would be highly tempted, very highly tempted, to kill them, straight up, because my fear-complex and connection to my children would almost automatically kick in and the rage that I felt at one of their deaths would be almost too much to bear. But, for the individual who has passed the fear complex and has moved into a state of continuous Universal Love would not do so, would have compassion for this individual and proceed accordingly, being beholden to a Higher Law of Love and Understanding.   

If given the choice to consciously evolve, knowing that it would require you to let go of all of your emotional ties to your friends, family and everything else you hold dear, would you choose to do so? 

I‘ll leave it here. But dreams are important and have meaning. These questions are the very stuff of life itself. Even though they’re difficult to talk about, to admit, or to answer in our own minds, there is nothing more important in our lives than the condition of our souls, and the future that we choose to manifest and live. 

Death Lurks: The spreadsheet of life’s happenings

Death lurks behind the promise of infinite possibility inherent within the subjectively linear passage of eighty-six thousand, four hundred distinct moments each day. In the twist of a turn taken too quickly and the reflexes response, the weary drooping of eyelids during a 12 hour drive cross-country, or the slip of a shoe upon a hypnotically narcissistic, marbled floor. We will never know the day nor the hour of our passing, for each day is not promised us. While living life consciously ignorant of our impending doom, we cultivate a sense of immortality all out of proportion to the reality that, in each instant of each day, the possibility of leaving this world is present.

Death whispers seductive promises of eternal sleep, of oblivion. It is a subliminal choral accompaniment to the solo of our lives, a choir made up of death-masked ghouls leering and whispering between choruses, waiting for that inevitable intersection marking the passage between two states of being, life and death. Being a comforting illusion, the denial of our mortality is the glue that bonds society as one, that allows us to proceed about our ways each day with the confidence required to plan for tomorrow’s lunch or that vacation next summer without going stark raving mad, crushed beneath the weight of the realization that a moment’s laxity could lead to our final departure from this earthly coil. Halloween or Samhain, El Dia de los Muertos, All Saints and All Souls days. Celebrations of the passage of the Summer into Fall, the full vibrancy of life into the transitional state of renewal, marking that ephemeral time when the veil between the worlds has thinned, and passage – as well as communication – between states of Being normally separated by the Void of Forgetting becomes possible, eliciting flights of terrific fancy in those whose psyches are predisposed – by nature or nurture – to such perceptive detours from common experience.

When the fear of death underlies each decision that we make, shadows each moment of our lives, or threatens every happiness that we experience, maintaining our grips upon sanity often requires the purposeful cultivation of ignorance. That which marks the Seeker is Her search for Knowledge, His total devotion to living life without illusions and finding and traversing that path toward the highest aspirations of knowledge and spiritual attainment. All children are born Seekers. They are fearless, until fear is inculcated within their developing psyches. Once the materially-based realization that life is a zero sum game sinks in, fear also sinks its claws into the soul and the subjective and self-serving rationalizations that often accompany the realization of imminent extinction begins. The fear of the Unknown, the fear of the Other, the fear of Difference, the fear of Change. The fears of darkness, of sunlight, of skies, of women, of racial groups, of tall people, of short, of the mentally-challenged and the intellectually-superior, all can be linked back, at some point, to the fear of death itself.

Knowledge protects, ignorance endangers. And yet, ignorance promises a false sense of security. An illusory and subjective viewing of the world that is often shared by others in one’s group, who also fear death to the same or a greater extent. We are in this together, they seem to say to each other at some subconscious level. So let us create a world of experience around us that pushes death to the fringes, and relegates it to the darkness. Let us create stories and tales of terror that minimize death, while celebrating life as if it is to be lived eternally. Let us celebrate the Youth, and Sex, and Inebriation; let us make gods of them. Let us take joy in the sobriety and beauty promised by the light of day and then let us huddle together in drunkenness and sexual licentiousness during the dark of night, taking comfort in our materiality, since this is all that there is to existence. They reassure one another that no one knows what lies beyond death: so let us live this life fully, doing what we will, for tomorrow, we will be nothing but dust, ashes and fading memories in the minds of those who knew us once.

We make the choice of life over death daily. The opportunity to slip off the ladder while fixing a roof is, indeed, a possible choice. The choice to fall asleep in the bathtub is, indeed, another possible choice. The choice to veer into the oncoming lane of traffic is yet another choice and the choice to step over the ledge of a rooftop or crash through a 12-story window are other choices that we do not make, even though they exist simultaneously as possibilities within the endless quantum field of potential. And there are also happenstance choices that lead us away from death’s door, that seem to keep us within the flow of life purely by luck, or destiny. The choice not to take a certain path that, you may find out later, could have led to an unfortunate encounter with a major accident. The choice not to step in a puddle of water that you see, after passage, an electric circuit dangerously close to. The choice not to take a flight that crashes as you sit comfortably at home, watching the news. These choices, possibilities, mark each of our days, too often passing without notice, as we forge our ways heedlessly into the future and toward that inevitable day of reckoning, when our lives intersect our deaths and we finally find that moment that has been making its way toward us, through the confluence of time and space, since the day of our births.

The ephemeral nature of existence takes on a glossy sheen of improbability when all of the chance occurrences and lucky coincidences are added up on theSpreadsheet of Life’s Happenings. For those who cultivate and live the majority of their lives in a fearful state, the onset of old age is a terrible time. A time of reckoning and regrets, of reminiscence and reproofs. The dwindling days seem to pass faster and faster as the days shorten and the nights lengthen, the whispering shadows beckoning from the dark corners of rooms, take on the characters of long-forgotten dramas and passion plays, while the stark realization that more days lie behind than before sets in, steeping the bones in chilling, thought-stilling terror. The recognition of a lifetime lived in material pursuit can then be recognized as the highest of follies.

Worldly wealth nor pleasures may traverse the void. For some, the realization that there was another choice all along never arrives.They end their lives, fearful until the very last moment, meeting their Maker with wide, unseeing eyes, and often hanging onto the shards of their memories long past their time to ascend into the Corridor of Passage, from whence their further ascent into Light or descent into matter will proceed. For each lifetime is a lesson that solidifies the path of our souls, toward inevitable immersion within the light or dissolution into the dark, both necessary halves of an integral whole which lies beyond all perception of duality.

The time we are given upon this Earth is precious, and deserving of our full attention. Cultivating conscious experience, decrying ignorance and striving to understand the world, the people in it, and the situations that we find ourselves in should be recognized as being akin to learning the forms of the problems, in Algebra, or the structure of a sentence, in English, in preparation for the test that will be given upon our exit from this stage, in preparation to ascend, or descend, to the next or previous grade. In a quantum Reality, possibility is infinite, and yet, this infinity is accessible by conscious intent, ours to mold and fit into our conceptions and ideals, to live and form lifetimes only bounded by the perceptual limitations of our own potentially infinite imaginations.

Life is too short, too sweet, to live it in mundane disharmony. Comfort is overrated and “going along to get along”, the surest path toward dissolution. Take chances, explore, forgo your plans and live in the moment, accepting what the universe brings you and running with it, into a future undreamed, and a life beyond anything that you have ever conceived. For that is the true promise of Destiny and the call of your soul, often buried beneath a lifetime’s accumulation of thoughts and fears designed to break your spirit. Choosing to awaken - to cast off fear - is to leave the comfort of ideologies and belief systems, of friends and families, and to strike off into uncharted territory, or rather, territory that has been charted only by the intrepid souls who have preceded us upon this journey and who have blazed the parameters of the path forward with iridescent halos comprised of laughter and tears, holographic messages made of rainbows, volcanic eruptions and stark vistas of distant mountains painted purple and green beneath immense, oceanic skies.

Defying G-d: The choice to move on

The decision to move on comes at the point where the Cascade of Painful Memories, hoarded and cherished over a lifetime, meets the Avalanche of Apprehension, which is the fear that the future will be as the past. The point where this occurs is, of course, the Now, where the thought dawns upon us that we have a choice, of either remaining on the path we are currently on or moving in a new and uncharted direction. This is an instant where the moment crystalizes, becoming forever highlighted as a Crossroads Instant, where two paths diverging become clear and a decision must be made which renders one either free of one’s path up unto that point or slave to a decision which takes one deep into the talus slope of pain and regret that continuing the same path entails.

Too many times, we choose to continue along the same path. And each time we do, the regret settles deeper into our bones, becoming more a part of ‘who we are’ because it is who we have made the conscious choice to be. Regret and disappointment ease into the creases in our faces, mar our smiles and bend our backs just a little bit more as we move into each successive Now defining ourselves by those decisions we’ve made that have led us into this chosen reality, a reality that we consciously realize is not the one that we truly desire to live.

We fool ourselves with words like responsibility, and love, all the while knowing that, beneath these words lies another one, more indicative of the true state of our being. That word is fear. Getting to that point, recognizing the fear, requires the same diligence of introspection and examination that we apply to any test for a new position, or for a grade in school and in life. It requires one to dive past the blocking memories and self-definitions that protect our Ego from its own dissolution, the rationales that we tell ourselves in order to justify our decisions and make us as comfortable in the hellish lives we’ve chosen as possible.

But it never works, because we are always nagged within by a subtle and quiet voice that whispers in the dark and cobwebbed corners of our minds, during those quiet moments before sleep or right after a rush of external impressions or interactions; that whispers, stop lying to yourself. You know what you want but you’re too scared to go after it. This isn’t your life. This is your nightmare. Wake up. We usually banish the thought by beginning some new action, forcing a new train of thought or turning over and counting lost lovers in the attempt to lasso sleep and non-recriminatory and dreamless peace.

Holding on to the nightmare comes to define us, and molds our identities accordingly. We become sarcastic and bitter, our interactions with others reflecting our decreasing opinion of ourselves. Seeking salvation we find comfort in the company of others like ourselves, crass and mired in the fleeting comforts of this world, finding momentary peace from our internal disquiet in drugs, alcohol, sex and the pursuit of mindless pleasures. We cherish our gossip and backbiting, descending wholeheartedly into the complex of needs and desires that material living cultivates, becoming vengeful and petty, believing that the physical orgasm is the epitome of sensual pleasure, only equalled, perhaps, by the increasingly popular and voyeuristic sport of intentionally inflicted pain and suffering.

Living in this mode is life-denying rather than life-affirming and the body, as the outer representative of the soul, becomes slothful and decadent, its movements reflecting the accumulative disfunction of years of vice and negative thinking. Successive moments of realization, increasing in intensity and directness over the years, become moments of fearful denial as we rush further down into the darkness of our choices, afraid to admit that we were wrong, that we chose the wrong path, made the wrong decision, went the wrong way. Becoming perversely proud of our disfunction we revel in our lifestyles, flipping off the sky, thinking that we are defying G-d, not realizing that both sides of the coin remain the same coin, only being different expressions, each necessary for the completion and continued evolution of All That Is, Was and Ever Will Be.

This willfulness of action is defined as Free Will in too many instances where we justify our behavior by claiming it is our choice, our decision to make. We rail against destiny and fate, decrying the existence of either in favor of the supremacy of the mind, the intellect over forces greater than us. We speak G-d out of existence, define Him and relegate Him to the sky and to the pages of dusty old tomes, read only by the ignorant and the uninformed; this, according to the most advanced egoic masturbators among us. Popular culture supports this perceptive framework, as does education and the institutions of society, as we destroy the world in our image, claiming to know what is right as we are ruled by the limited processes of the Ego, forgoing the divine connection to this planet and the intelligences that dwell herein and denigrating them as being myths, childhood stories and religious exaggerations. All the while, we sink deeper and deeper into our illusions, comforting each other with sex and sweet lies, whispered desperately like the most obscene of dirty pillow talk.

The distraction of innumerable television channels, countless radio shows and songs, books, magazines and newspapers that increase our fear factors are part and parcel of the lives we create and live, finding our entertainment by way of clubs and bars that poison our bodies and spirits, food that dulls the senses, mentalities that favor the outer expression over the inner, friendships that cultivate the mundane, and loves that cater to our weaknesses rather than our strengths. We are trained and we train ourselves to waste our lives – in the time between Crossroads Instances – increasing our karmic debt through our responses, yearning for so much more, and yet settling, ever, for so much less.

Slave to the senses, we despair. And, in the midst of that despair, we cry out to G-d and are then presented with successive moments, choices, opportunities to move on. Again and again, forever and ever, Amen.

The choice is, Now as ever, ours.