A Primacy of Dream

 

by Donny Duke

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?

Rather than give some formula or system to interpret dreams, something you can plug any dream into and know its meaning if such an undiscovered formula exists because dreams have so many variables, and not all are actually dreams but something else, 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, 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 we need to go, but also what’s obstructing us and what’s aiding us 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 with 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/

 

I’m Not Picking Up Stump Posts

photo by Dhina of Lisa Rottweiler posing here as my altar ego.
photo by Dhina of Lisa Rottweiler, my dog

For the longest time, I had thought that all we needed to do to see we communicate with one another on the inside in the inner life was to become conscious of dreams. From there it seemed to me we could easily come to know our communal identity, human unity, something we can infer from the inner communication, but not confirm until we get beyond both the outer world and dreams and directly experience it ourselves. We could infer it, I’d figured, because our dreams are chock-full of such inner contact with each other. To my surprise, I’ve found that’s not the case. Most of the dream workers I’ve seen in discussion groups on the net and those I’ve talked to in person seem to be unaware of our inner links.

While it’s the needed direction, towards the inside, we seem to be going pell-mell into dreams without knowing either how to interpret them or even that they often tell us about incidents and situations in our waking life days before or days after. Most people into lucid dreams and those giving workshops on the same, of those I encounter, do not have this very basic foundation. Douglas has been showing the connection between dreams and waking life in articles on this blog. In this article, I hope to demonstrate something of our hidden inner communication by illustrating a dream, one that doesn’t, as is often the case, show it as only an aspect but as its focus and intention, showing me what was going on between others and myself.

I am at an American diner but in India, and I have a gift of $365 I want to give to my stepmother Ruth. It’s been a long time since I called her and my dad, but I’m confident she will accept the collect call, which I know has to be collect and somehow know she’ll be the one to answer the phone. There’s a pay phone in the restaurant, right among the tables, though it’s at night, and there are only a few customers, and after reflecting a moment on Ruth’s hatred of me, I make the call. It’s accepted, but I don’t speak to Ruth but my dad, and I tell him about the gift to Ruth, and he starts talking very fast about why I haven’t called in so long and at the same time not happy I’m calling.

There’s a dream shift. It’s very dark outside, and I’m alone sitting on the passenger’s side of the front seat of a car parked outside a bar talking to my dad on a cell phone. I’ve not gone into the bar and have no intention of doing so, but the bar has something to do with my dad I can’t figure out. On the other end I hear silence but know my dad is there. I try and talk to get him to talk, but he’s very reluctant, and maybe I hear him say a  word or two and maybe I don’t. I can’t tell because he is so distant on the line in terms of his willingness to be there. I begin to cry the kind of cry I do in dreams sometimes right before waking, where I’m dreaming I’m in my bed in my room but know it’s a dream still, a place I release emotional pain, a place I use for a lot of things. As I release the emotion I begin to become aware it’s a dream because I’m consciously now feeling the pain of being an outcast by my yoga, by almost the entire world. I hear thunder and see faint traces of lightning flashes, as though they’re not in the dream yet but are coming.

I don’t become lucid. Instead another dream shift catches my attention, and I’ve just gotten out of a car having driven home. It’s night still but not late, as I see my uncles and dad working on an old car not far from the house. It’s an old wooden one-story country house, and I walk past the front and stop to look at my dad and uncles working on the car, which is just on the edge of the light from the house on the other side from where my car is, and something I can’t quite relate happens, a different kind of shift, where my dad’s no longer with my uncles, and I realize he was just there, had been there a long time, and I should’ve talked to him when I had the chance because he’s gone, as in passed away, and I won’t have the opportunity to see him again in this life. As sadness wells up in me I walk to the backyard, and that scene takes my attention, the sadness leaving.

It’s now the backyard of the house I was teenager in, only much bigger. I walk up to a shed and suspect someone’s been in there and gotten some of the special kind of organic material I’ve made and allow the neighborhood to take if they want to, but I’m not sure. There’s no light in the backyard, and it’s very difficult to see. I follow faint tracks, like from a small tractor and wagon, and come to the back fence, a wooden one as at my teenage home in waking life. It’s been opened, and the tracks are very visible going into the backyard and coming out, and it confirms that someone came and got some of the material. I’m not bothered by it, just don’t know why they did it the way they did, at night in secret, not coming to the front like good neighbors, and they took down  part of the fence too, which does bother me a little until I see the fence can roll back in place without damaging it, sort of like a hidden gate, and I understand people can take the material that way too, understanding too that’s how people have been taking it for the most part. All I have to do is close it, but there’s no latch or anything, just roll it shut so it looks like there’s no seam in the fence there, and as I do I wake up.

Why it’s so hard for us to see the inner communication between us has to do with the nature of dreams, which don’t often or always depict the actual people or situations they are about but are symbolic in nature and tell a story of the story, some representative scenario often using our own family and the scenes most familiar to us as the symbols for the dream. Our creative reflex, what I call that in us which fashions them, can do this because dreams mean more than one thing, have more than a single interpretation, can be about your family and at the same time about whom or whatever. That’s the case in the above dream, but dreams are also irrational, that is, they don’t come from the rational thinking mind which likes order and symmetry, does not like loose ends, prefers a one to one correspondence in the making of analogies. Dreams more often float their different interpretations, rather loosely, making it not possible to interpret them the way the mind likes to do that: this means that, not this means that here but not also there.

We are also rather ignorant about universal symbols in dream, have some sense they occur, but for the most part, from what I’ve seen of dream dictionaries that now abound upon the net and what I saw available before the web, we are much more off base than on in what the symbols mean, for the mental reasons I’ve mentioned above. We tend to assign meaning to symbols with the thinking mind, or the talking, reading, networking thinking mind, and we don’t understand that we learn what the symbols mean from the very fashioning of our dreams, that is, as we open the inner consciousness, that part of us in which we experience dream, the meaning of the universal and personal symbols reveal themselves, as though we’re being taught, and we are. There’s a soul behind all doing that instruction, the psychic being.

With these things in our awareness, I’ll now interpret the above dream, assigning meaning to symbols as they occur therein. On the surface the dream is about my relationship with my dad and stepmother. We are estranged. I’m in India and they the U.S., but there are other gulfs of distances between us. The dream is symbolizing inner communication between us, but it’s not that contact that’s the focus of my interpretation, or not that interpretation, a contact that happens all the time between ourselves and those we are bound to by family ties or whatever, but an inner contact hard to see with the reason, though once it sees it, it doesn’t take being spelled out each time to see it. Though it would seem the dream is about that familial inner contact, what triggered the dream to show the disguised contact I’m focusing on, what the dream’s more about, is a situation I was involved in at the time in waking life, some two weeks back, and is the interpretation I’ll be  demonstrating. It bears some elaboration, which can be done in process, though you’ll have to keep picking up the thread of the dream so as not to lose it in the elaboration.

The contact the dreams shows isn’t just a representation of an event in waking life but a live streaming as it were of inner contact occurring at the ‘global’ moment of the dream, the timeframe of the unfolding of the incident the dream represents (along with the frontal or obvious familial interpretation). Before the dream, and after, I was seeing/hearing in my muse the discourse I was having, via a Facebook page, with the editors of a major publication of our yoga, the Integral Yoga of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo. That communication resulted  in a muse poem specifically to them and which I would post as a comment after one of their Facebook posts so they would accept a friend request I’d sent. That  poem  came during the day after the dream. Since the poem has that inner contact as its content, something they would recognize, since it reveals their thoughts and feelings on the matter, they friended me shortly after posting it. The dream I’m demonstrating, which occurred the night before they accepted the friend request, shows the ‘fury’ of inner communication between us revolving around that friend request as well as  a comment I’d put on their page asking them to read a poem of mine on our page Harm’s End that I’d written and posted before the dream, called “Pardon / Tell the Truth / You’re a Satellite”, a poem about atheism.

The diner, the first scene of the dream, represents Facebook, and that few people are there would indicate, though it’s a public place where people eat (we’re consuming for good or ill in the posts we read/watch-eat), there are only a few people listening or reading in on the event in question, that is the communication via Facebook  with that publication. That it’s night means, in this situation (night would mean something different in others), the whole event is under wraps, something done not in secret but, though occurring openly, not one anyone would want to see. The gift I have is the poem about atheism, and I can tell you what the numbers in $365 mean, but that’s too much detail. I’ll just say it has to do with the cost in my consciousness of the poem. That’s it’s both to my step-mother and that she’s the one who has to accept the collect call (collect because it’s their page they maintain) has to do with her hatred of me, what would be unbelievable if I tried to describe, what it was like being her step-child as a small boy.

The hatred of my yoga for me would also be likewise unbelievable in terms of its unwillingness to ‘accept’ me. That hatred is what I must go through to communicate outwardly with anyone in my yoga that knows my story (everyone gossips everywhere), with anyone in the world for that matter, and, because my writings are a bit revelatory and at the same time revealing, showing not only good stuff that attempts to sound the depths of the world but also stuff that sounds the bad I’ve been a party to, I seldom get a reply to any communication I send, to the yoga or us, us being humanity. In the dream, however, I’m confident the hatred will give way, and I’ll be able to get through.

Your dad in a dream is both your dad and representative of an authority figure in your life. Whether you accept their authority doesn’t matter. It matters that they have power to punish you. In the dream, the people behind the aforementioned publication, people with authority in the yoga, are represented by my dad. It’s been years since I called him, as it’s been years I’ve been a more or less quiet outcast in the yoga, though there have been periods in the past 12 years I’ve been in this exile, especially in the beginning, where I sent out a flurry of communications, but now, for the first time, people are talking to me, what the dream’s showing, since my dad, who are the people fielding the Facebook page and possibly their superiors, are at the same time ready to hear from me (full of questions about me more like it) and angry I’m contacting them. The gift, the poem, is of no consequence to them, only those questions and anger, but I do feel the gift has been accepted, and as I do find myself in that car outside a bar.

The windows are rolled up, and the doors shut, and I am very alone inside that car, much like I’m inside my room, where I spend most of my time, but the dream’s also demonstrating that the communication with my ‘dad’ has gotten real personal and private, between he and I, how it’s being experienced by us, regardless it’s still on a public Facebook page. A bar in dream symbolizes lower vital indulgence, whether that be drinking itself or other substances, or sex and the like. In the dream I don’t know why I’m parked outside that bar, only that it has to do with my dad, as though I’m waiting for him to come out, though I know he’s not in there and know he doesn’t drink. I’m there because my dad thinks that’s where I go a lot, or, to say it literally interpreting the dream symbol, the people of that publication, as well as my yoga in general, and the ‘world’ for that matter, see me parked at a bar indulging my desires when they think of me. You might notice that in the dream I haven’t parked myself there and don’t know why my dad has me waiting there, outside a bar.

Though it might be too much detail, why I’m in the front seat and not the back, and why I’m in the passenger’s seat, has to do with the fact I’m not driving either the car in the dream or my room in waking life, and it’s not the Devil driving let me tell you, but neither am I  just in the back seat a passive passenger; I’m riding shotgun.

The silence on the other end of the line, me trying to get my dad to talk, not knowing if he’s saying anything or not the darkness is so thick, night here again meaning what it does in the diner, jars me a little towards awareness. Pain tends to do that also in dream. The dream symbol begins to come off, and I start feeling what pain the dream’s surfacing, the position of being an almost total and absolute outcast in the household in which I live, on the inside of things, the house of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo. I release some of the emotional pain associated with that, and as I do I begin to wake up in the dream and also hear and see the play of thunder and lightning, as though it’s there but at the same time not yet, it being more an outline of the phenomenon than the full monty, a common characteristic of dream and its manner of revealing our reality. I’d be bold enough to say that it’s presence shows our communication, between the publication and I, to be significant at the very least, and that it seems more on the way than all the way there to be indicative perhaps of some coming climax in regards to my acceptance as a sadhak in the Integral Yoga with a contribution to give: understanding, though that contribution is an elaboration here, not a facet of the dream.

The dream shift captures my awareness back in the dream which is a much different scenario, and the only link to the other parts of the dream is the car, which I’ve just gotten out of after arriving at my house, which is also the Duke family house, my dad’s side of the family and made up of country people. As I walk across the yard/driveway, I see my dad and uncles working on an old car, just in my awareness, what it means when the action’s taking place on the edge of darkness. That my dad’s suddenly died, and I regret not taking the long opportunity I had to see him before that, is the dream shifting more to the frontal interpretation of it being about the relationship with my actual dad, and once again I begin to become aware it’s a dream, the regret pushing the boundaries of the dream-movie before my eyes, but it’s not enough to make me lucid , and as I walk to the back of the house, I see the shed, and the dream captures my complete awareness once again. The shed represents our Facebook page Harm’s End, and the special organic material are the muse poems posted on it. I can see that people have been on the page reading the material, though I see that in the symbols of the dream, not aware of what they represent.

The evidence, however, isn’t substantial enough for me to be sure neighbors have come and read some of the poems, taken the organic material, and so I follow the faint trail leading to the back fence to investigate. I should say, leaving the dream a moment, that I usually get no reactions from a muse poem post, except sometimes likes from my kids and their friends who like the pics, or a like from Douglas, my partner on the page. So I have no idea if anyone’s reading them or not except for the little round world on the top of the page telling me I’ve had pageviews, something that isn’t daily nor ever very many except when we’ve boosted a post, where most of our reactions for posts have come from: paid.

Nighttime here in this part of the dream has more to do with my neighbors getting the organic material, reading the poems, under the cover of darkness, not letting on about it , leaving no likes or comments, unless, like I said, it’s from our family or a boosted post. Once I get to the back fence it’s very clear neighbors have come, with a small tractor even, and gotten some of the reading material. It being the back gate represents the same thing it being night does; they came in secret, almost as if they stole. They left the fence open even, and it wouldn’t be stretching it to say that represents the two page views I saw the next morning after the dream, what had lit up in my little world at the top of the page. It’s no problem closing the fence again. All you have to do is read the message, and the number in the little world icon disappears. I don’t like it that neighbors are coming in secret to get what I’m giving openly and for free, want them to come around to the front, give some appreciation, but I do realize some material is being taken at least, posts are being read, and so, as I close the back fence, click on the little world, I’m not unhappy about it.

Although I don’t absolutely know that publication read the atheist poem that I asked them to in the comment I left on their page, the dream, along with the two page views, gives me good reason to believe that they did. The dream and other inner communication between us resulted in a poem I put as a comment on their page, during the day after the dream, and as I said earlier, they befriended me soon after posting it. For the past two weeks I’ve been waiting for them to like my page, and not even another poem has moved them, but I don’t see them ignoring me. What I do see is the necessity of showing I really see. Especially religious authority, as history bears witness, when it’s confronted by what it fears and doesn’t understand, is not a kind father.

Though you might think I’ve read too much into this dream, that it’s not possible to interpret them in such detail, even if I’ve gotten a symbol or two wrong, I haven’t over-stepped the boundaries of dream. It takes a lifetime to learn to interpret them, as much study as we put into books and other outer media, and few seem willing to do that, wanting just to jump to dream powers such as lucid dreaming and out of body experiences and the like, or even straight to spiritual experiences. Becoming conscious of dream initiates a multifarious process that eventually culminates in understanding not only the nature of dreams and their symbol meaning, understanding how to consciously use them to investigate reality, find the soul and look for God, seeing in great overabundant detail our hidden inner unity, how we communicate with one another on the inside of ourselves, but also, coming to the understanding that outer reality is as well like unto a dream in that it’s a story of a story, though a more substantial story we might say than our personal pell-mell dreams, a real story that represents layer upon layer of deeper reality that when you get to its bare ground, you find God.

I can’t lead you there, but I can try to show you how to see our underlying hidden unity, at the very least, how much we talk to one another in our inner life, and that the most readily available window to see that is the field of dreams. We don’t normally see it because, as I said in the beginning, we don’t yet know (have lost really) knowledge of the interpretation of dreams. This article might be called a field guide, looking however at only one species, but you have to use more than your reason to use it.

How in the world do I tell you, you only use your soul in a manner of speaking? To see what I’m talking about, your soul shows you that it’s using you. I don’t really think language can get here, it being itself a story of a story, representative by nature, and the soul, speaking of it in itself here and not its evolving personality the psychic being, well, how to say it? It doesn’t represent; it just is. It’s where dreams are born and all this communicating in them, sleeping dreams and world dreams, from where the seed is cast.