Take the Majority

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Duke

All That You Need Is Take the Majority from Them
Look at the Indus Valley.
They came here and planted it Themselves,
the Gods on Earth.
This is talking ship.
It saw Them mountain range.

Where we goin’?
Invictus.
It’s gonna take a long time just to get started.
Itching glass
now.
Come and say hi,
every wrong thing about India.

You got any stamps up here?
The ruling party wants to throne themselves,
like they’re in charge of Earth.
It’s in every land grab.
What’s happening?
That’s the truth—
want this uttered on Hindu lips.

Hey,
drown the BJP,
their own mess,
and they’re not
what the Gods intended.

Smell them?
They are not crystal clear drinking water.
Where would the Bhagavad Gita ride their behavior?
They go after people
without equanimity.
They hate and they slay.

What principles of yoga do they follow?
There’s the Self in my enemy;
I must respect him?
கொஞ்சம்
the spirit of the demonic man
in their heart.
Rage like asuras.

Where are they busy with the Self?
Universal brotherhood
and compassion,
you have not seen this in them.
I’ve seen this all over town
In their fields of notion.

Have you heard their laws?
They would bury people
in punishments made to make them suffer.
They have no understanding of law.
It’s not used as a weapon.
It’s to help you become better.

Look at their ganja initiative.
The underaged would suffer so
in environments that will make them worse.
Now let’s look at their civic duties.
Employment for youth,
better wages and a shorter workweek for all—
no more 12 hours days?
Let’s help our homeless, shall we?
take care of our old people,
give orphans the royal treatment,
and don’t leave anybody out in the cold?

Where are they taking the population?
bad, bad, blood, blood, [line heard sung by Neil Sedaka, song “Bad Blood”]
to the wrong thing in our hearts.
Let’s look in on ourselves
with cameras.
Surveillance all over the city.
Let’s watch each other mean.
The spirit of God has no business on Earth.
Control their lives and they’ll submit
to our little dictatorship.

As soon as it’s ready you’ll see.
We will get you.
Laid back Pondicherry,
we’ve got other plans for you:
a Hindu initiative.

Listen to the writing on the wall
BJP.
Peaceful Pondicherry
in God’s hands.
Direction:
let’s ramp it up,
the realization of God in everyone’s lives,
the flowering of everyone’s humanity.
No dogmas—
you are on the road to self-discovery.
You will reach down deep inside
and find your wherewithal with Earth,
and find your true self.

That’s where we’re goin’.
We have to start somewhere.
Let’s start standing up to the BJP.
This part of myself
I will turn towards the light.
Do you see the spirit?
You’re not pointing fingers
like some moral crusader.
Hey man that’s me,
and I’ve gotta respect myself,
whoever you are.
That’s the lesson plan.
That’s how we do it.

The Iconoclast (Message to Auroville)

Message to Auroville
I have something to show you.
Are you ripe for revolution?
Will I call Satprem's letter?
I will deduce the situation.
You haven't seen it yet.
You're not even looking at it.
You don't know there's a crisis:
will Auroville become or will it not?
All the Aurovillians will still be here
even if Auroville never becomes.
What does that mean?
Aurovillbe became a way-city
for India's population.
Do you see the writing on the wall?
How do I get this across?
I'd tell you in a poem.
It's "Above National Commitments".
It's time-consuming.
Here's somethin',
a product
of human unity at its corners,
and we rush in with "The Iconoclast".
Kind of makes you book smart, don't it?
You've read the Mother.
You've read Sri Aurobindo.
I give it the world,
apply those principles to life,
the number one vacancy.
Oh wow they fit here.
That brings us out into the open.
Is that big enough for you?


A poem by Donny Lee Duke

photo by Mithun
photo by Mithun
photo by Douglas

photo by Douglas

photo by Mithun

photo by Douglas

photos, videos, and music not attributed are by Donny, an all photos and videos except #16 and #17 were shot with a Vivo X60 Pro

The Iconoclast
She wants him.
She has to be insistent.
The project:
dinner serve you and you,
overcome
mortal.
We’ll see ‘im.
Daddy-O,
what is it?
[both above lines heard in Nitish’s voice]
Why do we maintain the system?
It’s everywhere.
You’ve got the title.
Somebody gave me the phone.
Wow, I swung the axe blade.
This is there.
[above line heard sung, my voice, from “The Freedom”]

Society
[vision of clicking my mouse on that word]
figures wrong.
A wolf in the henhouse
you put a pedophile around a child.
Chop it to pieces
divine vision on the subject.

Where do you put the Integral Yoga?
Where it works
a process of integration.
How would Nature handle this?
There are no artificial barriers
between people.
So what’s the story,
is that society’s truest moment,
whoever’s attracted to children cannot be around them?

Where does that bring us?
That kid’s gonna get molested.
It’s the nature of the program.
No subject’s been studied in school,
no desire’s been dealt with,
the child’s or the adult’s.
They’ve just been stuffed.
You’d have just no between them.
Where has this taken us?
And I’ll tell you again:
the number of children getting molested far exceed reported numbers.
Am I gettin’ through?

Where will a process of integration bring us?
We have to work this thing out.
The Mother has taken a pedophile
and done just that.
That’s what you’ve refused,
the issue of this in mankind
the Mother putting in the right place:
that pedophile doesn’t have sex with children.
They bring him around to himself,
and he is to them what they need,
and no one else on this Earth
can attend a kid like him.

You think I’m changin’ subjects.
Nitish is here beside me
among the dogs in bed.
He’s been caressed and brushed aside
to make room for the afternoon poem—
well not completely.
One whole side of me
thrills with his touch.
He’s cellphoning the world away,
and I keep him focused on us just enough
to write his own poems one day.

Now this is not out of my control.
It’s where you want me
if you knew how far this brings you:
human unity’s in the room.

Tried to send me away.
I can assure you
I’m not going anywhere.
You’re got more of an investment here.
Don’t do anything rash.
Have a meaningful experience.
I’ve got a season by now,
numbers enough to fill you up.
Now, how do you know
the right influence?
For the people on the whaling run,
fire and snow.
[both above lines heard sung, my voice, from “Ticket to Eureka”]
Now we can bring pink tablet.

The pink tablet was made for each other.
This is who the relationship stands on.
A psychic being circle,
a street open on the inside explained.
[vision of Nitish in the computer chair on the far left in the picture,
dogs present]

They know each other.
They know each other’s safety.
They know how to handle each other.
They can skip the small parts.
They are into each other’s tongues.

The boy is a talking diamond.
He really gets into speech,
from games to God,
to his hopes and fears and dreams.
They study one another.
They are on each other’s table,
with dogs to mitigate the life force.

It’s all on the table,
the world and God,
the whole universe of sound.
Are demons all on us?
Can you tell me again about the Supreme?
What does a God have to do with it?
I’m counting Supermind
because you said that’s where we’re goin’.
Am I gonna die?
I’ve been so afraid of death
and the end of the world.

You have no idea the cradle that boy has.
It’s all aglow.
We see its brightness.
How do you end it?
That boy grows up.
You wouldn’t kill the kid now
because this is a fitting
you’re not prepared to see.

What is a poet’s mouth?
A diamond in your community.
I’m giving him this smile.
Because it’s unfamiliar to you
don’t think I’ve lost the plot.
I’m a science of a listening ear,
holding down sleep so I can write it down.
What a production this is.
What intricacies of skill.
I’m a craftsman,
my apprentice this little boy,
and he will grow into that.
Destroy him, will yah?

Take the challenge of worth.
Are we really so strange to you?
Are we really that weird?
We are the battlement
of the new human being,
and we’ve been around a long time,
as long as there’ve been pairs in humanity.
You hear that?
We’re normal.
The psychic being is there to keep it clean.

Do you have psychic contact,
or are you just judgmental and sorry?
The psychic being,
do you feel it in here?
And he’s a little drummer boy,
an intimacy of God to behold.
Come,
partake our fruits.
It’s got the sorcery of God.
We’ll show you the world anew.

Talk to her nicely.
Give her more than getting.
I know you won’t believe her.
You’re stuck in worldviews.
Something has passed before your eyes today
that has the world heal on it.
Are you just gonna sit there and say no?

I don’t think the world will come between us.
We’ve got so much going for us/to show for it.
[phrases spoken simultaneously]
We’re good in the pan.
We mark trees with windows
and don’t tarnish them.
We’re alive on time.
Long live the king,
the new boy in town.
That’s Nitish.

A rose She’s giving me,
a new appointment.
That’s my rose.
That’s my wonderful little boy.
That’s my summer rain.
I will make crafts and cookies.
Oh wonderful
I just can’t wait
wouldn’t you say?

Trace Through Ideas About the City of Human Unity, the Third Read

videos by Douglas, video editing by him, poem and performance by Donny, technical support Mithun, Jana, and Nitish, filmed on a Vivo X60 Pro

The Ugliest Banjo
All we ever do is resurface,
call brotherly love. [both lines heard sung,]
I’ve set the price of stuff.
I’ve set it down on paper,
in digital media.
It was a good voice.
I’ve said it all over the world.
You put lands on that date also.
I’m gonna take my story back.
I took you some
Tamil Nadu.

I don’t know which one’s the maintenance.
I lecture tomorrow,
not the video,
the epiphany,
not the human unity poem,
my arrival in Auroville
a member.

He’s a tough one.
They stare at me.
All I ever did was catch you. [line heard sung]
Is that a paperclip?
Convince ourselves:
everybody,
you don’t
I really got a taste of God.

It’s at the deepest level
the shallow level of life.
It won’t bite you.
It won’t leave you alone.
You just put your headset on.
A blunder
virtual reality.
Look no Bible days.

Process live without student.
I’m three feet up.
I’m a hole in your garden.
I’m there behind you.
Can you smell me?
Can you smell my rose?

Take me out of the picture.
I’d even say why you do it.
What were you saying?
It’s not crap.
It’s Sunday dinner.

All the people not measuring up.
I can’t take it.
Tell me what happens.
He gets accepted by the many.
You thwart him,
and every time he gets up.
He did,
he became enlightened.
That’s what you have done.

I’m not gonna you want.
I’m just gonna be a hole in your community
until it,
I become a member of your community.
I can tell you things
that are just so down to earth they’re needed.
Just gorgeous,
who I am,
the ugly duckling.

But the Corporations, Human After All

Coca Cola Commercial – I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (In Perfect Harmony) – 1971. YouTube channel Shelly Kiss

Poet’s magnificent phase,
I’ve got a better business model.
See the ground work?
Will they catch the spirit?
No.
So what in the world is going on?
A blog post,
now that’s goin’ on.
You brought it up.
Just put it on harm’s end,
and Coca Cola will be,
be their commercials.
They almost art.

You’re going after
big monster,
you’re gonna hear the whole song.
That’s executive Coke.
I do believe you have your organization.

When you identify with them,
it’s like watching a robot.
They just can’t help it.
Government services
will only draw pennies.
Don’t drink their milk.
Broke the standard
arrest them kill them.

I don’t know you put an incubator there.
It’s a house of love.
They can’t leave till they learn it.
Goodwill breeds goodwill.
You’re dealing with character change,
you must respect
the enormous obstacles in their way.
I’ve given you the formula.
See how Norway checks it out.

But you’re talkin’ about now.
You can have it,
something on the lime machine,
a screw you piece of paper,
and that won’t solve anything.
How do you bark?
Now let me study this problem please.
Wew, these people I’ve got to reach.
Can you show them your humanity?
Don’t just walk away.
Be engaged with them.
Let them go through all the stages of friendship together.

You can do that in your writing.
Target maturity spots,
a senior executive,
or someone just vocal
about being a harm product.
Why don’t we have organizations gathered in peace?—
friendship quests,
a center of goodwill.

How do you probe this?
With the feats of your heart.
I’m talkin’ genuine concern
for the person you want to reach.
Enough of you do that they’ll listen,
and even if they don’t
you’ve made inroads into safety.
Some of them
will answer your call,
and you’ve got a horse in a moving body for change.

Can I get you to see this?
It’s the way we do it,
take on the corporations.
We’re dealin’ with each other’s stuff.
It grabs us all.
Patience my dear friend and you’ll remember.
I was such an asshole to my niece wasn’t I,
or I have somebody I treat like shit.
It takes eyes to see
we’re all in this together.

When you crawl out of the community,
what’s you thinkin?
Won’t these voices
cross this bridge with me?
Identify with the people.
That means love.
You have to really identify.
That’s what you’re doin’ here by the way,
learnin’ how to bring love in every picture.
Can you grasp that?
It’s our mission in life.
Do you hear me Steven?

A Suicide Bomber’s Broken Arrow is Broken

Genie in a Bottle by Frederico Bebber, used with permission

The world let me come to your room.
Here only:
a poet’s met greater listening.
Now what did he fish?
I’m not in your reach before.
What is the moon?
Symbol for where I am,
a light
To help you cross the night.

Silence,
death takes a terrible moment to calm down.
Now I touch you with the real.
I am a dead speaker.
The suicide bomber changes its space,
and everything right now
A story about how long it is.
Give rise to future presentations.

I cry to your hand.
Look at me.
My water, oh no,
blood red.
I’m sorry to act.
Disappointment knows no greater sum.
Give me the light
of your understanding,
and I’ll give you changed view.

The service there to act the middle road to stars,
the courage there to act.
Each man has a fear, love, dread, and pull to the extreme.
We feel ourselves so different from one another.
The problem’s building the people to be a church
so I can blow people up.
Man is a kicking gale a dozen kicking gales like him.
Can you understand why?

The small raft that conceals us all in bodily harm,
what I was to become in search of myself,
a big wall of religious separation between us,
and the grizzly bodies of adolescents to 13 men to find,
it’s not a secret the whole flesh can discover.

Death was not in my hands.
I exploded immediately.
Kill someone,
their voice right there.
We had a pay together.
It wasn’t bright and sunny.
Can we show you nonexistence?
I think I touched her.
You’ve got to fear.
Oh my God,
every finger accusingly sat at me.
This was no paradise.

There are realms in death you understand.
More order came.
I guess all went off to their private lesson.
I winked into hell.
All my mountain said no.
We lingered there.
It was my own order I made myself.
Please arrive me out of terror.

There lessons learned,
deep dark secrets you who understands.
A light found me thinking.
I grasped my neck to myself
and began to see.
I vanished hell.
On my journey I rose to you.
I’ve come up to my Faith.

As it doesn’t have one of the goals reconciliation
this is where Mohammad messed up.
The others I must also treat with light.
To grow oneself in mercy good idea.
Treat them with kid gloves even bad people.

The nature of the Prophet cannot be seen by your calculations.
It is hidden,
in a sense,
light bulb.
This sometimes assailed him,
his human.

Have to take apart anger.
I was just mad at you.
Through so much deception and web
the heartbreak was crouched around a day of killing,
terror hush, terror deep.

Tearin’ a hole in the fabric
of what death open
I am the author of a little child of the Furies,
a fierce cartoon within the page of my own age.
Every word easing the spear.
Not a secret a baby can tell.
Muslim doesn’t even talk about Muslim.
God is the veil at which he lowers his eyes.

Adam used to tell his name
unto his soul.
Let me release an air of sin
this cell from within,
right where they told me to explode.
It’s time for them to know:
all the way they cut truly in to a child’s deep identity.
Behind me the spear gave lesson.
I was sleeping –
families’ dinosaur.

There are some things that result in our hatred.
These things are ugly on us.
If you can tell the victim in the victimizer
stop the hatred.
That’s the first thing the very first.
No one else can listen.
No one else has ears.
The best place the time would be now,
to bring us into the 21st century.
The future writes this very slowly.
It’s now on the city conscience of Europe, Asia, Africa, and the United States.


In my last post, “To View the Hunting Design of Mourning”, I examined dreams of the suicide bomber of the Brussels Metro that seemed to show a contact with the heaven of Islam that gave him a divine sanction to carry out his mission. Over the course of years, I’ve had a contact with that heaven that’s of a very different nature, one not from Allah or angels but from a dead suicide bomber. It’s in the form of a poem in which he’s the speaker, and so it’s his words filtered through my creative reflex, put in my language and style of poetry, one which continued to develop over the course of time it took to complete the poem. I haven’t received it out of the blue, just because I had an inner opening that could receive it, nor because I was some good person chosen to show his bad. Whatever we hear or see in vision in regards to other people has a bearing on our own lives, is something we need to see and hear so to become better people ourselves, that someone else a mirror we’re looking into to help us change. This is true for both (inspired) poets and prophets, something neither they nor the people that quote them seem to understand.

The first lines of the poem came among the first lines I received once my muse turned on like a flood, which was in South America in September 2001, and it took me awhile to see the bomber’s voice out of all the muse I was getting. By the time I got to Paris, several months later, I did recognize that distinct voice and organized the scattered lines into a poem, and more lines came, and this earlier form was submitted to and rejected by The Atlantic and Poetry. My muse edited it after, adding more verses and individual lines, and I continued to work on it slightly until I posted it on my personal blog in 2015, after submitting it a few more places. The majority of the poem, however, the core, came in those few months after 9/11, as did many lines about Islamic extremism, mixed in with lines about the world harm I have caused, all of which I included in a prose/poetry manuscript I wrote for The Atlantic (never submitted) on the island of Crete in 2002 called “Civilization and the Art of Terror” or “The Inspired Word”, which will remain unpublished, though it’s a source of organized muse I draw from from time to time.

Last week, as I was meditating at the Samadhi of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, I heard the lines “That’s got my name on it. / Perfect,” and then I saw a light blue curtain blowing slightly, and then I saw the face of Sri Aurobindo, the age he was in the last photos taken of him, the outline of his face highlighted, and he was right in front of me looking directly at me. I was then told to wait before boosting the poem, to do some purification first, told in lines of muse, the vision of his face having faded. At the time I interpreted that to say the poem would be seen as something he’s behind because I’m his disciple and because of what I’ve written about inner contact with both he and Mother in regards to my poetry and writing in general. Although the muse said “perfect”, it said it a little while after hearing the first line, enough time to make me realize I didn’t want to drag his name through the mud, since I’m considered the worst kind of person on the planet, a minor attracted person. I sat there afterwards and let that sink in. It took the ego out of it, and I’m sitting here now not wanting to be in the shoes I am, but I think I understand.

Do you? Maybe it’s the bad man that can truly show us human evil and how really to end harm, rather than who we normally think can, a good person’s that been burned by bad. To see what I’m saying you’d have to understand higher than good and evil and more integrally than there’s this bad person harming society, understanding that for us to climb out of our wrong we need the goodwill of a good number of people because it’s not something we can do all on our own, why, when it’s all said and done, this suicide bomber’s speaking and why I am. To speak in the terms of the spiritual path that I follow, you’d have to understand something of the great difference between the Supermind and Overmind, the very different ways from each other in which their processes work, to see why someone such as myself would be perfect to post what I’m posting as an outgrowth of my sadhana in the Integral Yoga.

Who this suicide bomber is and what bombing he’s talking about I don’t know, but there are vague references that would seem to indicate the attack happened in Israel and killed mostly young people. He describes an after death process that would take a long time by our reckoning, but heaven can open windows on time we cannot, and so this could be what to us would be a voice from the future. It’s important to understand this is a single bomber speaking, with all the things personal to him that would entail, and so each suicide bomber would have a different story of why they became one as much as their general fate in the afterlife would be along the same lines as the one speaking in the poem.

This poem needs to get into the right hands, and as of yet it’s not gotten into even a handful of hands, other than the editors who’ve rejected it and a few other people, and so I pick it up again and try its hand here. Does anyone out there have ears? If you do, please share this poem. Its license is Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs.

A Primacy of Dream


The present day (20-6-2021), where Douglas and I have taken this, the interpretation of dream, to an actual method. The article below (that starts with the dream in blue print) is not out of date with our discoveries and understandings concerning dream; it’s just not invariably clear and concise, does not present a method, so as succinctly as I can, I do so now.

I have to say forthwith that dreams are too multifaceted to narrow down to a method that works for every single dream, as the article below points out, but the great majority of the time, we have found after decades of dreamwork, you can take a dream and assume it’s showing you the inner view of some outer experience or occurrence that has happened the day before or will happen the day after the dream. The time thing is really flexible though, and it’s often that the dream falls into a three day window either way, past of future, and on any given night, there are dreams of both. It can even be showing you events that will happen many years into the future and that have happened many years in the past, and it can do that while it’s showing you what’s happening ‘now’ (or not) so incredibly rich and many things at once dreams are.

Individual dreams can be thus interpreted even though they usually form a dream movement that is composed of many dreams occurring over a period of time, which can be recognized and become part of the overall interpretation, a recognition also that on any given night multiple dream movements are occurring, and even if you’re only able to capture a dream or two a night and interpret them, viewing them in this multifarious framework, you have quite a means of putting together just what’s going on with you.

The difficulty in interpreting dreams is that dreams rarely show the outer event or experience literally; they show a representational picture of how that outer thing looks on the inside of us, the inner process of the thing, something not so clearly stated in the article below, the inner telling of an outer thing, but it is basically the biggest key in the practical interpretation of dream. The key itself is that they capture our evolution as we move through life, but that’s the big picture, and it will suffice just to mention it here. The incredible aspect of interpreting dream is that it shows you what you’re about to experience in life, but because it’s showing you the inner view of the outer happening, you usually don’t see it until after the fact.

Douglas and I, but especially he, have given many examples of this method of interpreting dreams in the articles about dream on this blog, so to understand what I’m saying in regards to dreams showing the inner view of an outer event, you’d have to read a lot of this blog, see a lot of examples, and the following article will be an aid. But there in no substitute for working with your own dreams.


A couple of months ago I was dreaming I was sitting down against a building in a field waiting for my mom to come and pick me up, and I became not only lucid but aware of myself in my bed, that place where if you just open your eyes you’re awake, twilight I call it. As I heard her car stop at the road some 100 meters from where I was, I got up, and on the ground in front of me there took shape a very beautiful mandala with the words “I love you” on it, made with many colors. It was made in a way that had my mom all over it, that is, it captured the essence of the way she made things, the colors and shapes, and I felt the strong presence of her as I saw it and read her message to me, understanding that this was a message to me from beyond death.

A few nights ago the following scene occurred in a dream, with another member of my immediate family, though one not deceased:

I’m driving my sister’s pickup truck down a highway, and she’s riding shotgun. We are going from a town where she lives to where I have my jeep parked, a distance of a few of miles. We talk on the way, or rather, I do, telling her of my current plans to move to the mountains. She lets me out at the parking lot I’m living in for the couple of days while I’m in transition from my former living situation to the one in the mountains. After she drops me off I think that she could have invited me to dinner or even stay the night at her house, and I wonder over why she didn’t.

A couple of nights ago I dreamed this scene with another family member, who’s also still alive:

My dad has taken me and some other hitch hikers to a gas station and is dropping us off. I’m on my way to Houston, a distance of about a 100 miles. As the others leave to go hitch, he tells me to put my suitcase in the truck, and I know that means he’s going to take me to Houston so we can spend some time together, and the dream ends. I hear a few lines of muse about the dream as I come awake completely in bed.

“If you google the word dreams you will get millions of hits for websites devoted to dream interpretation. Are any of them worth a visit? Very likely not. Why not? Because there is no scientifically supported system of dream interpretation. What you will get if you look at dream interpretation blogs, sites, pages, and the like will be garbage pure and simple. Or they will be the writer’s own idiosyncratic interpretation of dream images and that typically is not very interesting at all.”[i] The quote is from an article in Psychology Today. It’s not suggesting that dreams are meaningless, but that any attempt to interpret dreams until science cracks the dream code and provides a system to interpret them is garbage or at best so boring as to not be worth your time. But the ignorance of science isn’t the measure of our knowledge of dreams or our ability to interpret them, and why should its ignorance be the holdup in dream inquiry? Because science can’t interpret dreams, does that mean we can’t?

Douglas and I have been taking individual dreams and visions, including the inner voice, and interpreting aspects of them that can be shown to have some relevance to our daily personal lives and that of humanity in general, focusing on linking dream movements to ones in waking life and discussing dreams that reveal an inner connection between human beings, ones that suggest we live in a field of consciousness rather than in our own private inner world unconnected to the inner lives of others, which is the view of science.

In the most basic sense, dreams show us what’s going on with us, what’s on our minds, in our hearts, what we say with our mouths and do with our hands as we move through life, sometimes acting as a proving ground for personal movements not in our best interest, allowing us to see they indeed aren’t, or sometimes just simply being a gestalt, the dream itself being an meaningful experience that isn’t necessarily representing anything about our waking life, and dreams are not only about our personal symbols: study and tell us about other dreamers as well. But in this basic explanation of dreams I’ve not by any means exhausted their purpose and scope. And while dreams focus mostly on our present, they not only use images of our past to show us our now but also use our future too, but they not only focus on our present; sometimes they are almost exclusively about the past or future.

Dreams and visions are like a looking glass revealing the ins and outs of our life movement in itself and as it interacts with that of others and with the world and universe at large. That they do this in representative terms, telling a story about our story, about the story of others, and that they can be seen to have not only the past in them but also the future, the more of which you see, in little pieces, the more you can actually interpret them, suggests creative intelligence within us but beyond ours telling the story, intelligence that can see the whole picture, not only of our whole life past, present, and future, not only what’s going on with ourselves, but also what’s going on with everything and everybody we significantly interact with, are connected to, intelligence that can see through the walls of time and form.

I’ve come to believe this intelligence is the soul, what in us that transcends the material envelope[ii], which doesn’t create dream actually but is the is influence on it shaping it along our own personal evolutionary lines, influencing the organization of all the various elements that present themselves from whatever quarter in the making of any given dream into something that has meaning for us. The quality of people’s dreams vary widely I’ve found, and not everyone has storytelling dreams. For many they are just an incoherent barrage of sound and image, the reason I suspect many label them just random things coming up from the subconscious or from our active memory of the day’s events, or what’s pressing on us as we sleep.

The more coherent your dreams are, the more they tell a story, and the more you can see yourself in them making decisions based on judgment and reason that are resolving conflicts within yourself or with others, healing your personal mess or integrating who you dislike or who dislikes you, the more your soul has a hand in shaping them, and, consequently, the more they can be used as guidance, as a road map that not only shows where things are and the direction you need to go, but also what’s obstructing you and what’s aiding you in getting there.[iii] Where ‘there’ is depends on you, the direction of your life’s movement, its purpose to put it more meaningfully, but, if you are able to put the inner eye on the outer world to the degree you see the underlying unity of all things and all people, what comes more and more into focus as you do see the outer world through the inner lens, regardless of where you’re headed to personally, you’ll see you and I, all of us, are moving to wholeness in our relations with ourselves, each other, and with the world at large, working out oneness.

The above dream scenes show this process at work, but, in what what might be called the catch 22 of dream, I can’t contact any of my family members to verify inner contact with them, since my mom’s been dead some years, and neither my sister nor my dad will speak to me. It’s a catch 22 because so often dream, when it’s seeing beyond the physical senses, shows us things in shadow, or shows us the shadow side of things, what we or others don’t want to admit, what we want to keep a secret, and so we are often unable to verify the dream with waking life. Although the case here isn’t something bad being hidden, is just I can’t verify the dream because the people involved are either dead or won’t speak to me, it appears to me things like clairvoyance, which these three dream scenes are examples of, each a different aspect of it, happens all the time among us, but it doesn’t get verified, or even usually mentioned, because it shows things we don’t want others to see. In a rather rebellious and somewhat illicit earlier piece on my personal blog, “Under the Graffiti”, I point this out in a way that might bring it closer to home:

“It’s happened so many times not only in my own personal experiences of anything to do with clairvoyance and the senses seeing past their physical range, but also with many others I’ve talked to who’ve related to me their experiences, ones that they really couldn’t tell someone else about (I got these ‘I know I’ve been bad’ ears, so you don’t have to worry none), or at least not the whole story, because it revealed their shadow side, so much so and in so many instances I’ve come across that it seems to be part and parcel of the process, that the ESP’s not only to give you that sight but more to try and wake you up out of your animal cravings, get you to get up, evolve, and that’s the number one reason I’d bet we don’t hear about these things as much as they occur among us: they show our bad that we don’t want others to see.”[iv]

I think anyone intensely involved in working with their dreams with others they physically share daily experience with, who’s had a lot of experience being part of such a dream group, would be inclined to agree with me in regards to the above, would see the shadow in that light, but that our dreams (in fact our lives) are working out oneness takes an inner depth of seeing that goes beyond the scenes of the world, contact with the soul, and I can only tell you that you really have to look for it to see it if you don’t, but once you begin to see it, you wonder why in the world everybody can’t see it it’s so present and apparent.

The three examples I give are showing a process of reconciliation ongoing between the members of my immediate family and I, those three people perhaps the most commonly recurring characters of my dream life, and I suspect it’s the case with most of us; we dream all our lives about who were the most significant people in our formative years, whose womb we came from, whose genes, who we shared that womb with, if, that is, they were actively there as we grew up. If not, it’s the people that most filled those roles. My muse once told me that the more one we are with someone, those most like us or close to us, like a brother or sister, or a neighbor, the more likely we won’t get along with them, and if you look at the world and its conflicts, that’s often the case.

Before my mom died she had little to do with me, and we didn’t communicate often. She carried that enmity into death, and it seems that on the other side she realized some things, the need of reconciliation for one, and so she sent me a clear message of love, her first from the other side, in the form of that colorful mandala, and it came in the context of a longer dream I was having with her, not her I should point out but a representation of her my dream maker had made, and this is an important point about dream: most often when we dream of someone it’s not actually them in the dream, not a dream sharing experience, or only extremely rarely, but our dream maker making their image so as to represent some inner or outer interaction with them. The message was well placed in my life, came when I needed that declaration of love from her.

It’s not yet accepted human knowledge that we continue on after we die, much less that the dead can communicate with us, but we’ll get there before long, since these kinds of communications from departed loved ones are so common to human experience. It’s often like it is in this dream scene, they give us some message or sign rather than seeing them face to face, and when it is actually meeting them, the meeting is quite short and comes most often in the representative mode of dream, like you and they doing some activity together, not as you and they able to just chat a moment.

With my sister Gwen reconciliation is still some ways away, if it’ll even happen before one of us dies, and then it’s inevitable, but it is in process, as the dream of her taking me some distance in her truck shows. In the scene I was driving it, which would indicate that for some time during her day, a day close to my dream, I drove her life vehicle for a little while, that is, I was driving her thought and feeling for some distance, a few miles the dream shows, and that it was in broad daylight and on a major highway shows this was conscious on her part, not on a side road under the shadow of trees. She carried me in her mind and heart for some distance, but, as the scene also shows, she went no further, didn’t take me to dinner or to spend the night. Since she’s made it very clear she wants nothing at all to do with me, it’s probable she keeps me out of her mind as much as possible, but with someone as close to you as your brother, that’s just not possible to do all the time, and sometimes the heart wins out, as is the case here.

It’s not possible, as I said, to verify this inner communication with my sister, or rather me picking up on her thinking of me with enough emotional force to register in my inner life, but I’ve seen this play out in dreams enough times to know it’s the interpretation of the dream scene. It came in the context of a longer dream that had nothing to do with her, but since the dream took place near where she lives, she appeared in it. I’d probably picked up the inner communication some time before, and it waited in my inner being until such time a dream appeared that could represent it. As I’ve suggested, dreams are composed of many different elements that come from various places within and without us, and they are organized together to form a dream.

The dream scene with my father happened at the end of a longer dream I was having with him, and though it would also show inner communication between us, or rather what we each are thinking of the other, it’s this scene that shows more clearly reconciliation happening, or that he’s now willing to give me some time in his heart and mind at the very least. The scene ends where I’m about to drive with him to Houston, a couple of hours away, where we’ll be alone together and can talk. Upon awaking from the dream the scene ended, my muse suggested that he was going to read (or have read to him, since he can’t see very well now) a long story[v] about the Duke family I wrote and made a copy of and had mailed to him snail mail, and that might be what the suitcase represents he told me to put in the trunk, the suggestion that he’ll read it at some point in the near future. I can only speculate if that’s the case, but, although I can’t verify he’s going to give me some time focused alone time in his thoughts and feelings, I know very well that’s what the dream’s showing.

It’s this very thing many people, especially from science, object to at bottom, God and soul being objections based more on this overriding viewpoint rather than on being impossibilities in their own right: knowing something to be true that the physical senses haven’t verified or really can’t verify. I’d suspect the author of the Psychology Today article I quoted has this fear at heart, and all who think like him in regards to dreams being unintelligible things, and that their interpretation is something we ought not to bother other people about on “blogs, sites, pages, and the like.” That fear is that reality won’t conform to material science, and they’ll have to remarkably shift their worldview, significantly change their lives, and maybe even lose their jobs, though as they experience it, it’s the fear that superstition will take the place of knowledge or greatly hamper its pursuit as it’s done in the past, as it’s doing now.

Today, however, superstition, the kind that’s holding up knowledge about ourselves and our world, isn’t so much religious, although religion definitely points a gun at knowledge and sometimes even shoots it. It’s the ignorance of the people with their hands on the world doorknob of knowledge, your average mainstream techno-culture scientists, who have their hands on the way we define the world, the research cash to investigate it, the news media to cover it, the arts and literature to symbolize it, that keeps us in the dark about the most basic things about us with their dogmatic insistence on the primacy of matter, the most basic of those things being we have a soul, and we share not only a field of consciousness together but one also of identity. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s the darkness of fear.

I’ve suggested many times now our next revolution in knowledge will be the one that occurs when we turn our attention to inner exploration, the investigation of consciousness and the inner life, one that’s already begun not only on “blogs, sites, pages, and the like”, but also in our hearts and minds, though not yet as a revolution, the big one we’ve all been anticipating in one form or another (just not yet inner), one that will turn society as we know it on its ear, change our most basic social institutions, change even being human. Many if not most feel technology’s what it’s about, it being our human endeavor, and we measure our progress more by our advances in technology than by a growing and greater sense of our shared humanity.

Dreams are the most common and available doorway into the inner life, the subliminal life we live deeper than conscious thought, and talking about them in a public space quickens the inner revolution in society, since dreams can show us to be more than a mere physical body that has somehow engendered its own separate bubble of conscious awareness, and such knowledge really turns you on.

By showing our dreams and visions here at Harm’s End, Douglas and I hope to demonstrate that we are so much more than some separate spume of matter floating on a shoreless sea in meaningless infinitude. Far from being garbage or so boring you’re wasting your time, blogs about dream and inner exploration such as this one, and the thousands like it on the net, on social media, are slowly but surely lighting the world with the inner fire, whether they’re right on about our interpretations of inner experience or not. Ours is the attempt to light the inner fire in the world, and we fumble a lot as happens when lighting a fire from wet material, but once that fire starts, no power on earth can put it out. Even now, on more than one page, truth is staring back at us, truth being not some religious or scientific formula but what’s actually happening with us in our seemingly brief little lives.

[i] https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/dream-catcher/201307/the-folly-dream-interpretation

[ii] Our inner being, or dreambody, since it is open to the universal, also can see into the inner life of others and into the future (to a limited extent), but it’s the soul behind it that’s ultimately the intelligence in us shaping our life.

[iii] I’ve greatly over simplified the making of dream, skipping over a tremendous amount of inner process and going directly to the soul, which to become conscious of you have to become conscious of that inner process, but I’ve done so because it’s not God behind all shaping our dreams and as well our life movement in general as we tend to believe if we do believe there’s higher intelligence behind it; it’s our individual soul, as it’s God’s delegate in humanity, and the more conscious we are of our soul the more it can do that more directly.

[iv] https://acollaborationwiththeunknown.wordpress.com/auto-biographical-sketches-a-letter-and-a-comment/ (You’ll have to scroll down to the graffiti story.)

[v] https://harms-end.com/2016/08/05/minor-attraction-on-rock-hill/