To know on the edge of your screaming that you’re gonna be alright, to see it plain as day in the darkness, you go on steam engine, you take your task with God.
I don’t know if it’s gonna rain mud puddles in my mind, firecrackers in my heart, but I’ll be okay. The world has caved in, and sunshine has found me lying in the sun.
Do you know sleep? Do you know how to sleep? It’s a ridin’ all night long the team fellows of the mind with what you need to know liberty while you’re still in bonds. It’s a conscious sleep. You hear it talk to me now.
You can’t spend me. I’m a waste of your time, but I will speak to you from the hours the training of the ways, deep soliloquies of love that hasn’t found its purpose yet but challenges the world with it anyway.
You will laugh at me, but I know time like you know your own hair, and I can stand up and sing when God is killing me. What is a poet for? Can I quote my little boy? It’s for blankets in the sea. I can only grasp his hand in verse. I can’t see him anymore.
Whales sing, and they bring in the ocean round to itself. It’s more than call letters. It’s an attempt to dare fate and expose ourselves to bright shiny blades, so we can give time its meaning, even if that’s just a language cloak. You sit there and read us those bright and shiny blades.
Fuck you I love you the poet says. Nithish did you hear that? It’s how we meet the world Planet Us and not die in the telling. We undress in front of the world and give it its mic, all the while singing our hearts out in front of I don’t care.
I am loud in a sea storm, Prometheus battles night on top of an angry world because he’d brought fire down of the Gods into the people of his sleep, and lit the poet’s tongue on daily cares, common battles, and everyday falls to know we are more than these.
You were crying and trying to hide your tears. Nithish, do not fake it. Only 500 meters to where you’re home again.
You have some tears to show Nithish, your thoughts of suicide, your pain at the world, the unspoken madness.
Let it all come gushing out, safely, wholly, by pounding on your parents’ foreheads let me live with daddy! Now that’s the vehicle in the room. Come on kid let’s go. Now baby dog.
Dominance next undo. They lord it over you.
You want to come to America, and that’s your airport, your insistence on seeing me. That’s your offering. You give it to that boy in you you have not let the world see— I really wanna see daddy I can’t take it.
For about a year and some months, from the beginning of 2022 to October of 2023, Nithish, Mithun, Douglas and I did a post cast on the interpretation of dreams called The Dream Company. The podcast ended in our last recorded episode, Episode 56, recorded on October 1, 2023, which has not been posted yet on our podcast site but which I present here.
Two minutes and 51 seconds into the podcast, Nithish relates a dream and interprets it in regard to his need to live with me here at the lake full time, and we discuss the abuse that was happening to him at that time at the hands of his parents, when we had no idea what would happen in a few months time, that he would be taken from me and suffer much worse abuse, which he predicts in the video-poem Edge of the Game when he says, “Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis.”
In interpreting his dream we did recognize that it was a prevision of the future, but we just did not imagine that that future was many months away and not days. That future that he predicted in the dream has not happened yet, as he’s not got the power he has in the dream, has not overcome the biggest bully in his school, and his mother has not brought him to the lake and left him here, all of which happen in the dream. We await it to come to pass.
I relate my own dream next in the podcast, but I interpreted it wrongly. My worry over Nithish at that time did not equate being smothered by a python, but now with what his mother has done after she took him from me does. By not allowing us any contact with one another, it’s been like having the life squeezed out of me by a huge snake; the grief has almost killed me. So my dream was a prevision of the future too, but I could not imagine at the time what it really meant until the events the dream foretells came to pass. That the Mother assures me at the end of the dream that I will be rescued gives me the same hope that Nithish’s dream gives me, and that is that he will be back with us soon.
That hope is further broadcast by muse, spiritual vision, giving the name of this video and asking what I’d done with things just the other morning at dawn. I wasn’t thinking about our podcast and hadn’t in some time, and I didn’t remember the content of our last recorded episode, didn’t have the slightest idea what we talked about in it. It just came out of the blue because my muse, which is a divine power, has the power of omniscience, and it knew what we recorded nine months ago and also knew that now was the right moment for the boy to hear what he needs to hear, and for his parents and everyone else involved. With that kind of magic supporting us, we have more than hope; we have faith given to us by the divine. Will the divine lose? Wait and see, but we can also ask if the sun is coming up in the morning. Do you think it won’t?
unless otherwise noted, photos by Donny, black and white photos developed by him
When you have sad news, that murder with Lisa, a parenting did not handle it right. How do I make amends? You give her what she wants, the tall part of the story. She is the sacrifice of the story. She is your dog.
What does Lisa’s death day mean? It’s the ascension of dog. She is taking on her human, and with consciousness pain she does that, birthing into another world. We greet her there.
This has gone on for some time. You need to meet, and she forgives you and moves on. Will she be there when I die? This is not just some free-for-all. It’s consciousness arranged. That will be your other side guide dog, and she will accompany you in death. Don’t worry she’s your angel.
Three years ago today, on June 3, the day before my 60th birthday, my beloved Lisa Joy Rottweiler died in my bed surrounded by everybody in our house. Dr. JP was our vet, had been for some years, had been to our house many times, but it was during lockdown, and he was shifting to a new location for his clinic, and he neglected Lisa and misdiagnosed her condition and gave her tablets that caused kidney failure, and he knew she had kidney disease. We took her to an expensive dog hospital in Chennai, and they made a bad decision to have her undergo dialysis when she was septic inside. I had to take her across town to the government vet hospital, and they wanted to admit her but told me I could not stay with her, and so I asked that, if I took her home and got her the treatments she needed, would she live, and he said yes. She died that night.
She did not pass rightly but got trapped in some dark place in-between life and death. I was going into lucid dream and calling her, did that several times, but she would not come to me so that I could help her rise out of there. I learned to my horror that she thought I’d killed her, as I’d unknowingly given her the tablets that made her kidneys fail, and I made that bad decision in Chennai, because of wanting the pleasure of spending my birthday with my boy, Nithish, who was back home in Pondicherry.
She was so present at our house after her death, but it was Nithish that saw her in dream the most. I had visions of her all day long, but she would not let me pet her or hold her big, beautiful head in my hands. She would just look at me with such sadness and the look you give someone when they’ve utterly betrayed you. She began changing forms, as soon after death we do that, and our bodies do not stay as we know them. She became very deformed. Demons came to claim her, as she was on the outskirts of hell. She fought them off and somehow managed to find a place there so she could always see me. Despite thinking that I’d killed her, I was still the love of her life, and she did not want to leave me. It was horrible, heartbreaking situation.
From the moment she died, I was in heavy grief, similar to that I’ve felt with Nithish being taken from me, and it’s as though he is dead because I can’t see him or talk to him. I gave her my tears, a lot or tears, but it didn’t show her I didn’t kill her. To this day, three years later, it’s still unresolved, and I am still in grief over her.
Photo by Nithish
On the first anniversary of her death Nithish met her in a movie theater in a dream. She was the only one in the theater, and Nithish came in, saw her seated about in the middle of the theater, and he went and sat next to her. Then on the screen began to show images of Lisa with Nithish and me in her life with us. Then she looked at him very lovingly, very sadly, and the dream ended.
The extraordinary thing about Lisa is she is to be human in her next life and was a dog with almost human eyes and feelings. I believe that dogs and cats are with us, why we brought them into our fire circle so long ago, to be the species that is the jumping off place to the human being in the evolution of the soul. Lisa is now in the afterlife on the way to being a human being in her next life, a dog developed to the upmost a dog can be developed in terms of consciousness and proximity to human, and she has managed to find a niche there so to continue to see me and present herself to me so to resolve her death, but it’s a heaven place she’s at; she’s no longer in darkness. This in itself is incredible for a dog to do, but now she’s reaching out on her death day to tell me what she wants, and I’m giving it to her, Lisa my dog, above any other dog I have. She sacrificed her life so Nithish and I can be together again, so our relationship continues, and she’s at the top of the story.
How do you find machine? Oh goodness, far back. It’s got trailers on it. A beast slowly rise out of man, and he gets his fire goin’. He starts to tremble with the layout of things. She puts that in her pocket. All around there’s roar. It squeezes yah tightly. You just die all the time— someone taken from you again.
This is evil, however it happens. You can’t do away with it. It hurts you so. You just sit there and bleed and trust yourself. Industry is everywhere in small measure. You wrap it up, you’re little vision of yourself that gets you to protect yourself.
Do you see society bein’ formed? It lasted a whole lifetime, your rock the machine. It was about safety and hard work and gettin’ your stupid rituals down to practice. The group took over. You couldn’t bake bread. The individual hadn’t come so far. You had to make society’s bed. It didn’t let you sleep.
Where’s drums and spirituality? In the daily life of man. The Gods were a strange brood. You were not real to Them. You lifted up your voice, and they put you in the skins of man. You had too much animal on yah before that.
Can we dream of spiritual states? It happened upon a beanpole. This was not our outward yet. Society trudged along a warrior’s path. Let’s translate instinct into man. Survival became the main issue here. Let’s translate little groups into men. It was all fought out, this land is your land this land is mine. This occupied so much time. We were murderous, burying one another in our stone houses cold.
Women lit the fire. They got down with the children on their hands and knees and looked for grub. They escaped the network fight for the land. They wore clothes and urged men to pray. They did not have society’s lair. They did not rule the show. They were the influence of the feminine on man. It really shaped society. They gave it their all for a warm place for their children. We have stable homes because of it. We need society because of it.
When did marriage come down, as in you leave my wife alone? When did we give permission to rape? Did we organize government stopping murder? We haven’t even planted food yet in these early days. Writing is a thing of the Gods. We see it in sleep, and it takes so long to come down to our hand. My poem is long before that.
How do we rob each other? We just let each other be, and we kick the shit out of each other when the werewolf hits us. We grow up with ruckus all around us. The quality of life sucks. We don’t have vision yet. No one hasn’t seen that far. We don’t know our dreams are telling us things, and then we take them by the hand— a seer is born, and he’s there to break the rules.
He gets visions of good things that get spat on. He hasn’t woven status into the band yet. It comes and goes. He’s able to prevent a war with his vision. He can show them the way ahead. He practices art. These are things he sees. They are bright and shiny to his people. He gets wonder over them. He lifts his head up and sees God.
He wore a mask. He played with the boy some. He didn’t just sit there and explain the sky. He revealed Himself as God and that was it. It was not love divine love who prefigured there. Primitive man was bound and the stakes were high. They had to find out primitive man.
The epiphany of art gave us broad in our lives. It opened meditation’s room and stairwell’s stare. It gave us delight in ourselves, and it brought in the world for our favorite viewing. It structured society? No it did not. It rounded us some. It gave us eavesdropping eves on the lowdown. It sang in the firelight to a butler’s call. It ever brightened our room.
Can we see it today? Time has erased this memory, but where you find it, it reveals ourselves. Do you see it? It’s got more on it than paint. It’s got our lives on it in this very poem.
Society’s carve out isn’t finished yet. We have a long way to go. We have a thunder-swept road directly in front of us. This is society’s mandate to change. We’ve got to really change. It’s not gonna come easy. Everybody will resist it. It means changing your way of life. There’s no other way. We will die if we don’t.
Respect my poem. You don’t know it’s bringin’ you all the way to change. I’ve got the future in a handbag I write poems from, some aspects of it. It’s a piece of cake in no way, shape, or form. We have a blight of change. Everything about us will have to change except the basic modes of life.
We will structure society differently. We will not lie to ourselves anymore. We will do away with crime and punishment and love the prisoner as much as ourselves, but we will still rope him along. Society will be organized in little groups of sadhana relays, where dream has put us together. We will return to the inner life wholeheartedly, and we will share this with each other. We will stay with each other not as families, though we will love and respect our family kin. Our parents will be too young to raise us, most of the time. Society’s job will be raising kids, the spiritual order of the day. We will get down and dirty with spirituality. Children will be allowed to school their talent and scribe. They will not spend all day there, and they will like it there.
I think you can count us upon the roads now. We are not an overpopulated city. No one makes money anymore. We work for each other, and we work and we play to get this life down, to do it right— each one of us involved in that. We have sex with each other when we are young. Sex is a child’s play, a teenage growing into, a young adult getting out of. The mature adult, the one past thirty, will leave sex.
We don’t put each other in cars. Transportation is all arranged, and we are welcomed to go anywhere on the planet. A brighter world will see a smaller us. We got our numbers down. We are an epiphany of the stars, and we will all translate this in our rooms, going to Supermind, going to Earth’s destiny, the monumental change that will change us all from divine living on this Earth to living on a divine Earth. That’s the rank and file.
Can’t you see it? It’s there just look at it. It’s all around us now, the hope we survive, the longing that has made Earth, the beauty we’re going to be. Now get ready. The fire of change will be upon us soon.
To a notebook I will question this universe. I will go to my notebook. That’s for the prosperity of mankind. You don’t see it. You can’t. You can’t read long poems by the wrong sort of person your handicapped say.
Now is this an idle mirage? Freedom for the individual in the very arms of society, that’s what I’m writing today; that’s where I’m at today. It will come to pass. It’s already here, where God meets man. The price of sacrifice, I lay it on you.
Now let’s see this vision in its native room, where we belong today, givin’ it to town. I put everything in here, give it. It’s all the whole wide world in vision. Of these questions, I pulled mine out overhead. I’m not a problem. I speak your menu. I’m right on top of it at my house. I’m just here with my child, parenting. Give this vision time to heal. Let it do what it’s supposed to do, show you you.
You give healing meat its substance.
You’re way out there,
right in the slot of truth.
I don’t think anyone understands this.
You’re a miracle:
nobody’s touched you;
all the help you get.
You really show people somethin’.
Most people don’t know it’s there.
They’re too based in ordinary.
Okay we climb mountains,
keep goin’,
just press on.
We’re goin’ somewhere.
I hoped you a-l-w-a-y-s thought me u-g-l-y,
you thought me friend. [this and above line heard sung in the voice of Don Williams to tune of "You're My Best Friend"]
Our best teacher,
we’re talkin’ soul.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Think Oil.
You hear soldier.
Oh man you don’t stink.
You’re chasin’ a good one.
Okay you got the preamble.
I would like soul need determine time.
I want to talk on the level of soul.
Where do we bring this out?
Is it evident anywhere?
How do we talk about soul?
Do we meet it with the divine?
Where’s it goin’?
Where’s it come from?
How long it’s been?
Does it explain us?
What is about soul that makes its process?
Does it rule time?
Where can it be found?
Is it perfect?
Can we touch it?
How does it find us?
Is that all there is?
How do you add it to the program?
Can we say it’s substance?
How big is it?
Does it search us?
What are its parameters?
Can we get at it?
Is it Black,
or would all colors fit its lifestyle?
Is it here among us?
When does it die?
Is it our only project?
How did it get here?
How do we communicate with it?
Does it know us
as the thing that does?
Is it our true nature?
Is this soul a concept or a divine?
And we go round and round.
The soul asks more questions than it answers,
but we can look at it.
Can you?
It’s here.
I think it’s from another planet.
It’s put us on.
That planet’s another sphere,
the reality behind reality.
We are its goalkeepers.
We fumble ourselves all the time.
We don’t know how to do it,
take soul and measure up.
It’s the substantial reality behind us.
It’s put itself here.
I think that’s phenomenal existence.
The soul is a dome
phenomenal existence fits inside.
It was here first.
I don’t think we cant touch it with our hands.
It’s not the reality we see.
It’s got our backing.
Where do individual souls fall in?
Let’s say they’re here.
This is not pepper spray.
You can help put ‘im on
that things might get hurt.
This is the ballpark.
Hello soul—
this is an individual flavor of existence.
It’s got cans on it.
They go through time.
That’s the flavors it carries around.
It’s expressing your life.
See the flavors?
All these tunes
express our life to us.
So many layers to the soul.
It’s a great big getaway.
There’s nothin’ else to it;
it’s the ground of its own being.
It represents us in time,
and we are representative figures
of this thing called soul.
We express it everyday,
and our body is its leeway.
A deformity,
an ugliness,
awful, isn’t it?
You’ve needed that to get along.
If you look at the world as a container,
that doesn’t fit.
All things are expressive of soul,
even the ugliness.
The world touches you there
like it’s probing you.
Awful, isn’ it?
Keep going.
This expresses you,
the dynamics of this life.
You’re carrying that with you
for an example set.
You have to learn from this example.
It’s so pressing,
and it’s so physical.
I think everybody knows I love little boys.
How ugly is that?
I am one case where the focus
bounced off the movie.
Sure enough he was.
I came to souls in the room.
They were everywhere.
Try fucking a soul.
They don’t want you to do that.
You don’t abuse a soul.
You just don’t.
It’s the basis of reality.
It’s got bigger than life.
There’s no abuse possible.
Are you expressing soul when you abuse somebody?
You’ve stopped doing it
a soul becomes visible.
We are all relating souls.
They transcend time.
You cannot harm them.
Violation is impossible.
Life is a field for the soul to work out deities.
The human soul is not divine.
It’s something more fundamental.
It’s the substance of deity.
We don’t hinder it
as it brings deity to the human room.
It’s expressive of deity.
It helps us put that on.
That’s our purpose here.
Can you see the soul bringing up life?
This is the arisal of everything.
The substance of soul has a field to play.
It’s putting on itself
in ever increasing rooms.
I don’t think you can touch bottom
of the soul’s play.
Can you imagine infinities within infinities within infinities?
And here we are in our room.
So much accompanies us,
so much to do.
Where do we go with this?
Towards the substance of soul.
We layer ourselves.
What has made it to the surface
is a little play in time,
this little portion of us
we so mistakenly confuse with us.
It has all of us behind.
My God the soul,
it’s there in the room
the container of existence.
Jerrycans of abuse,
I was the orphanage.
That’s our predicament here.
We’re bastard children
a mommy and a daddy have left behind.
We can’t see our divine parents.
Divine origins allude us.
We only know we’re here
getting spanked by time,
clusterfucked.
We don’t know how to stop abusing one another.
We just don’t know how to help one another.
This is a horrible place.
It’s a prison house.
It just sucks us,
and time’s got its finger up our ass.
Dry, lifeless orgasms
is where life meets us.
We are probed.
I say again we are probed.
Our greatest joy can turn to pain
in the happenstance of death
everywhere surprises us.
We are dangerous keepers.
We can’t trust anyone.
Real amateurish
your whole monstrous tirade.
No, and I like it,
but I’m waking up.
The policy of monsters
we are bring to ourselves.
Are you really waking up?
Jeremiah 19:9 the most monstrous of all.
Do you know what?
The city didn’t rush in to defend you.
I’m curios to know why it didn’t.
You’re a monster.
They are making names
to make sense of their city.
It’s purple passion
not heart attack.
I had a hate here with wine.
This is the poison we all drink,
to be to ourselves our city is good.
Now are you ready for Christmas?
And here comes the soul.
That’s what keeps us together,
keeps us from falling apart.
It’s music you hear on the radio
when the world had just caved in,
and you know that song's talking to you
everything’s gonna be okay.
It’s that sudden smile you get
from some perfect stranger,
and it’s like a kiss from Heaven
because the rain has come.
It’s your mommy’s warm hands
washing your tender parts
not wanting anything for herself,
and you are seven or eight.
It’s an ice cream truck
comin’ round the corner,
and you have just enough for a cone.
It’s the great big beautiful sun
shining down on you
like you mean somethin’.
It’s the breeze
wiping the sweat off your face,
and you have just run.
It’s the lovely afternoon
your family sang,
and you will never forget those moments.
It’s your father’s satisfied hands,
and you’re his little boy in them
wanting so to be like papa.
I’ve embroidered soul
where life keeps you,
and it’s good.
This is the backup plan.
This is our special moment.
This can ride the day
if we lean forward
and let the soul lead.
It’s all about soul,
the house of life.
I’m afraid
the depths you have to go to find that
are deeper than the world.
You hear that
these are possible inner journeys.
You go inside,
consciously, thoroughly,
until you reach soul.
Did you know you can find it?
A conscious arm
you fall into it.
I think unconsciously we arrive there often,
else we would die I’m afraid
cut off from soul.
We have to come up for air.
This world is a heavy dress.
We take it off
in moments sublime of dreamless sleep.
I bet you didn’t know that noon.
In raw material sleep
we can find the drop off point of matter
and soul dream
larger than time.
We have journeyed to the soul.
It’s not a substance material make.
It’s the first substance of Spirit,
and it’s got no bookends to it.
A receptacle of our Spirit open and true,
that’s the phenomenon of soul.
This is the causeway.
This brings us to Ourself.
This brings us to the divine meeting in the room.
May come some horses
with some contrary will.
Yeah exactly.
What is adequate?
Is that adequate
in the fatal moment,
in the fatal heartbeat here?
Soul expressive of deity,
that’s meaning
that has us all by the horns.
Cans.
Go ahead drive her,
drive her over.
Pay attention to people.
You want a soul
happen so matter of fact.
Now let’s come back.
We have to put on soul.
If you sat regular times…
Bruno!
You always have to watch out for Bruno.
He’ll take your underwear off.
You have to do a preacher’s build.
You check in
and withdraw.
You look out,
and the watch ends
on visible things.
You have to come together on soul.
You have to see beyond life.
There,
it has your hand.
Let it lead you now.
You have to get somewhere in life.
The soul is your regard.
It will take you to deity.
It will remove all obstacles.
It’s your great ship.
It’s the navigator.
It comes to you in dreams
and exercises the world
tonight,
and you can see things clearly.
We help it along
by being ourselves.
That’s Alpha Zero,
enlightenment stark.
This is its great evolution path,
and we are fingers of its evolution.
We do not abandon us,
and we help each other clearly
when we come together on soul.
There’s where the abuse stops.
There’s where we know our promise,
for it is the soul that leads us.
The soul we are,
the substance of ourselves
leading ourselves.
I’ve called on you tonight
to be the witness of soul.
It is bigger than leeway.
It is so much bigger than time.
It’s us in the ground of us.
No gap, no divide,
prevents it from helping us.
It’s here.
It is only blindness separates us from it,
and check it out in a poem.
You know I’ve opened your eyes.
Should end right there,
I’ve told you violence.
I just turned and turned around and saw the soul.
The dream team (our dream group), from left to right, Mithun, Donny, Douglas, in the middle Nitish
Mouth neighbor, tell all the things of time to repeat of course. You always vanished a floating cock-a-doodle-do. The whole second explodes. Are you looking for a huge mistake? I would not be your handyman. Come on people now take the city out of your dish. We’re all on Candid Camera. We’re all Facebook, it’s regulatory commission. If you could find the butter, we can’t be out of the pressure cooker. The only thing we can do is smarten up. That fish with horns looks like something. Very little. We’re not about to seize our kingdom. We’re all concerned with our image. One at a time please. Oh poor Luna, belong to something now, oh boy shark’s tooth. How can one little thing make such bones? It looks like fried eggs. You love to live with ‘em at your table don’t yah? What’s that the metaverse? It’s an experiment: how do your worship it and change at the same time? Through time you can’t. The Dream Company changes us ever so slightly, manufacture’s august change in every so slightly increments. It’s a woodshop, shovel that incompletes the truth. It’s all around us you see. Can’t you see. Can I get a juice, a thousand dollar subway ticket? You can step on landmines if you’re not careful. You can get a bulldozer and damage your lawn. You can sure get tired of dreams. That snake with horns looks like something. Feel the order of the universe. Don’t just jump outta trees. What do you mean don’t podcast? Didn’t we have a burger earlier? Bear with me here I’m late. How do I show you podcast in the nature of your dreams. They’re our dreams instead. A horn’s on ‘em. They tell us how to interpret our dreams. Look mom I’m risin’ sun. And we’re busy writing them down. You can’t get that from here, spirituality. We transpose dreams on a record for you. An interpretation model we give. What happened? I don’t know a rock just hit me. You’re talkin’ at the border of come physical change. I can’t show it to you. I think that’s enough to tell us we’re in cahoots with you to dream show host. That’s our motion started. A lightning bolt, you can figure this out while you make up your mind to join the lab. I’m happy to. We are glad to hear that. See you soon.
We had to take down our podcast because we had to leave India and go back to America, and we had to choose what we could afford to continue to pay and what not. This blog and website we continue, but we can’t afford the podcast. We have 56 episodes in total, and one day we will host them somewhere again, YouTube perhaps, because it’s free.
A revolution is coming, and it has nothing to do with technology, politics, or economics, although undoubtedly those things will be affected by it, profoundly, inevitably. It’s an inner revolution, and it is that, the inside of us, we need to change to change the world. No outer revolution, of any kind, changes the fundamental ground of us. And because it’s a revolution of the fundamentals of us, it’s going to take a lot longer than, say, the revolution in communication and information brought about by the technology of the computer and Internet, centuries I’d imagine to get to the definitive stage. Though it’s hardly noticeable now, we’re in the very beginning of the revolution, have entered the first stage, as evidenced by all the interest and public discussion of its entrance subject. The stage will get more pronounced as it advances. In this first stage we really get into our dreams, remember them, record them, play with them, and finally, learn how to interpret them.
That will lead naturally to an astonishing discovery, and that will begin the second stage of the revolution, which is the personal application of the discovery that our dreams are a map of the yesterday, today, and tomorrow of our lives. The intelligence will just blow us away. Once we see many of our dreams describe what will happen the next day, showing us the inner view of the outer occurrence, with particular emphasis on our inner state, what makes it so hard to interpret prevision dreams, we will put matter aside as the organizing principle of reality, and science will have a lot of explaining to do. I mean, what who in us or about us can see this, not only the future, but the direction travel of our lives, what obstacles get in the way, and the best direction to get around or through them? Kind of makes you put media down, of any type, as the principle direction giver, you know?
The third stage of the revolution will reorganize, from the ground up, our social reality. Were you in my dream last night? No, but I messaged you. That’s your family and friends saying that, the plants and pets in your house, your enemies, memes floating in human mind, your whole darn world just to put it nicely, but, and you must pardon me, I’d have to include E.T.s from the cosmos at large, the good, the bad, and the ugly. We will begin to get a picture of our shared field of consciousness, what we haven’t been able to see so wake-centric we’ve been, and pointing fingers and individual islands, not to mention tick-tock the game is locked told to social outcasts, will just melt, and we’ll have to put new meanings in the social field, shared meaning primarily.
Those meanings will have a lot to do with growing suspicions. Do we also share identity? Does human life have an actual purpose other than just to live long and prosper? Is ego identity the final say in human identity? Is a change in consciousness necessary to fulfill human purpose? Are beings not clothed in matter messing with us, helping us? Below the hidden lie the original questions. So we have a soul? Is there a God, and if that answer is plural, what the heck dude? And if that answer’s also singular, is that all the way to the nameless One? How deep does this rabbit hole go? Are we unconscious actors for a larger beyond? It’s in this fourth and final stage of the revolution, answering those questions, we put on our soul and spiritual wings, and that’s when humanity, as a whole, takes off and flies. Now, individuals can.
Start with your dreams and go from there, unless there is already happening. Then just keep going. If you start to become lucid in dream and/or have out of body experiences, try to see how deep, wide, and high you go inside. Try to leave the dream field and go beyond. You can also start with meditation, if you can get into conscious trance to explore, which is not to find more land inner or otherwise but deeper and higher fields of consciousness. The links I’m leaving show the journey I’ve taken.
The Evidence of Man Lucid dreaming, near death experience, and inner body time travel.
Introduction to Soul Power The soul and reincarnation, who I was in recent history, not anyone you ever heard of.
Help You From the Rear View Mirror Silent Mind, the experience of emptiness characteristic of it, and overhead experience, including supramental, all looked at in a review of the movie Who’s Driving the Dreambus?, which sees existence as oneness but meaningless. Go figure. And I do.
I’m Not Picking Up Stump Posts An example of our shared field of consciousness manifesting in dream, using a personal dream that shows the inner reality of a Facebook post and its viewing by other people.
Under the Graffiti Learning to extend déjà vu so to see the immediate future. Scroll down the page to the story entitled: “Under the Graffiti” and then see past the vulgarity, if you’ll excuse me please.
An Order of Chakra Shakes Discovering my 7 chakras on the Continental Divide in the mountains of Colorado, a don’t try this at home folks story.
Winged Information, A Peer into the Mountaintop Silent Mind, the kosher and abbreviated telling, and too much talk about the spiritual path. It was a published shot, and I just fumbled it.
It’s so easy to get irked with people about the same faults we have or have had in the past, so easy to forget what we were like when we were young when dealing with young people and the difficulties their immaturity presents. It’s a blind spot that seems to afflict a lot of us when we become adults, this lack of tolerance and understanding for the young, like they should somehow not have the same faults we had at their age. I needed a dream recently to remind me of this. Let me share.
As I’ve pointed out in other posts we have an ‘extended family’ of people we are still involved with in addition to the young adults that reside here with us in our house. One of these young men is homeless, we’ll call him H. for short. H. shows up every once in awhile and wants to stay couple of days, would like to live here actually, but we’re not taking anybody else on at the moment. We have a general guideline that we let people stay two nights per visit, but since H. claimed he had both lost his job and had a fight with his mother we let him stay for four. After those four days both Donny and I, especially Donny, were glad that he left. H. usually keeps to himself when he’s here, but on this particular occasion he was frequently going into Donny’s room and wanting to hang out there. Both Donny and I like our privacy and don’t really want anyone else just hanging out in our rooms so that was bothersome for him as H. couldn’t take the hint. H. was also coming to my room to ask for money and the keys to the moped to go get this or that indulgence for himself, a soda or a snack etc. I’m used to our residents showing that kind of boldness when they want something, but the repeated coming for money on H.’s part got kind of annoying. I think it’s like the saying goes that “the fish had started to stink.” Anyone that we’re not accustomed to being around gets on our nerves eventually. I will say that something seemed to be bothering H., but we never figured out what that was.
A day or so after H. left I had this dream:
I’ve been staying at Billie’s house for a few days, but I’ve decided I’m definitely going to leave tomorrow. I’m pondering how I should spend my last day, and I think it would be nice if Billie and I went somewhere that we could hike. So I go upstairs to find Billie. I tell him my idea and he angrily tells me no he doesn’t want to go hiking. I’m taken aback by this and ask him if this is just because the fish have started to stink. I say “Maybe four days here was too much and two would have been enough. Please be honest if this is the reason so I will know if I ever come to visit again.” In a huff he admits it. I go downstairs and tell his mom Mary Margaret what happened. She says that she herself hasn’t been bothered by my being there, but that “it’s his daughter.” By this she means that my being there is getting in the way of Billie spending time with his daughter.
Back in 1999 I had gone to a Rainbow Gathering in Pennsylvania. When it was over I managed to catch a ride out of there with a group that was headed to Bloomington Indiana, so I figured I would get off at Richmond Indiana where I had gone to high school and see some old friends. The first place I stopped was the home of a mother of a friend of mine, Dave who wasn’t there, but actually living in Colorado. Karen let me stay a couple of days before she drove to Colorado to see Dave, and she made it clear I wasn’t invited though I wanted to go. Next I went to my friend Max’s house and slept on their couch for a few days before his wife told Max to show me the door. So I ended up at Billie’s where I stayed maybe a week, before I took a bus to New Jersey to stay with my brother for a few days before I got on a plane to Europe to go and see the total solar eclipse in Hungary.
Now at the time I was kind of baffled as to why Karen hadn’t wanted to take me to Colorado with her, and also why Max’s wife had wanted me to leave, because I couldn’t see what a mooch and a parasite I was being. Billie was more accommodating probably because he was my hands down best friend from high school. He didn’t say anything, but I surely wore out my welcome there too, eating his food and not contributing much except for buying all the marijuana we were smoking. I’m not sure how annoyed Billie got with the whole thing, but probably more than he let on, though I think he did enjoy having me there. I’m quite sure though that his girlfriend (with whom he was living along with their four kids) got annoyed by my presence.
So when I was looking at this dream it made me take a look at the way I was acting back then, how I’d made people feel the same feelings that came up in me towards H.. There’s part of me that realizes just on general principle that I need to get to the place where I don’t get annoyed by things like this, but the dream also brought the point home that I’ve acted the same way and really have no justification for getting annoyed with people who are still immature in the same way that I was back then. We have a number of people from our ‘extended family’ who come over here just to indulge their vitals and eat our food and don’t give nary a thing back, and if they’re asked to do something they’ll get in a huff about it or do a half-assed job. Our residents aren’t much different. That’s hard for my ego to take, but it’s largely immaturity on their part and I was the same way. The other big factor however is boys in this culture are waited on hand and foot their entire lives as they’re growing up, and feel like they shouldn’t have to do anything even when they’re a guest in somebody else’s home.
This wasn’t the end of the lesson though because a day or so after the dream another young man, we’ll call him Fred as in Right Said Fred showed up. Now Fred isn’t part of the extended family, but a nineteenth cousin or something of three of our residents. Fred is young, and extremely conceited, thinks he’s a big somebody because he’s a fashion photographer and has over 3,500 facebook friends following his personal page. He doesn’t get paid as far as I know for his photographs, just takes a lot of pictures of himself and his friends dressed up with sunglasses, and showing off their six packs if they have them. It’s the sort of thing young Tamils would like, glitzy and shallow, but I will admit that he has talent and thus he’s built his small following. Fred also has an amplified vital and wants a big party whenever he’s here. Usually he comes on a Friday and leaves on Sunday, but on this particular visit he came on Sunday and wanted to stay four days. It basically threw off our whole schedule as far as satsung goes, since our boys (who worship Fred) were running around with him taking pictures. They also bought beer and were drinking which is something Donny and I allow occasionally, but we want to be informed about it, and in this case, as is often the case when Fred is here, we were not.
Fred and I got off on the wrong foot from the get go after I first got back to India when he brought three extra people with him when he came for New Year’s Eve and then proceeded to tell me they were staying for two days when I told him to get them up and out of here on New Year’s Day. He’s just one of those personalities that will push things as much as he can, and the alpha in me doesn’t like being defied by someone trying to come into our house and do whatever he wants. Neither am I impressed with Fred’s 3,500 facebook friends, and find him mainly a disturbance who makes the house harder to manage while he’s here. During his visit this time though I realized my dream about Billie related to him too, and that he was just acting the same way I was back in 1999. Given this it’s interesting that both he and H. stayed for four days just as in my dream I was at Billie’s for four days. Maybe there’s some reaping of what I sowed going on here too. The other thing I tried to recognize is that, although I find Fred’s visits unpleasant, it’s a vital treat for the young men here who feed off his amplified vital energy and ‘let’s party’ atmosphere and who think he’s basically living the dream with his 3,500 facebook friends. I also found myself feeling a little bit sorry for Fred too, since he is good looking and with his swagger he’d do well with the ladies in a more liberal country, but here in India with this traditional culture it’s not so easy carry on a relationship. I guess that may be kind of silly on my part, but empathy is still empathy I suppose. I will say though that in general I feel sadness for the plight of young people here because of all the sexual repression and the archaic system of arranged marriages, but I digress.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t react to Fred’s antics during this particular visit, but there is a sort of epilogue to all this. A month later I came out of my apartment and heard a very loud voice downstairs that I recognized as Fred and was irked since he hadn’t called to ask if it was all right to come, something we’ve asked him to do as a courtesy. That night I had this dream:
I’m reading an account of something that happened at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, but at times it shifts visually to snapshots or short clips of what’s being recounted. There’s a group of people outside the ashram doing something with the Mother, and an obnoxious jogger passes by and yells “Byyyyyyyyeeee!” as he goes by. Then he stops and gets on the phone at a telephone booth. Everyone is just gawking at him until the Mother comes and tells us to get back to work and stop paying attention to the guy, that he has no importance.
The first conclusion I came to about the dream is that the obnoxious jogger who got on the pay phone represented Fred, who is both physically fit and also always on his smartphone. I took it that the message for me was to not get aggravated by him, see him for the thing of no importance that he is and carry on with my work. Now I think that’s true, but I think at the same time, and more importantly, the obnoxious jogger represents this part of me that reacts to Fred and creates an inner disturbance, because the real problem isn’t Fred or H. or whoever or whatever else I’m reacting too. The problem is my reactions.
I don’t know if I’m cured or not as far as reacting to Fred, but this dream really helped me, and I wasn’t bothered by him much when he was here this time and even felt some good will for him. The thing is though sometimes you have to lay down the law when you run a house like this, but the problem with me is the alpha male part of me overreacts and wants to bring the hammer down hard on challenges to its authority. It’s a continuing issue because if Donny and I didn’t assert ourselves at times our house would be overrun. What I need to do though, I feel, is work on getting a handle on myself in these situation and dealing with things firmly but with understanding, and not let my ego turn things into a pissing contest. Alas, yet another thing to work on and another thing it seems can only be completely solved by a change in consciousness since the human ego self, this way of knowing in which all these outer persons and events appear as something separate and distinct from ‘me’, is a thing of reactions and resistances. I don’t have the feeling though that if you shift to a higher way of knowing that lives in the oneness and unity of existence, that you turn into a passive candy ass. But I do think that there wouldn’t be any ill will or animal aggressiveness when you assert yourself, but rather a sincere compassion even when you’re acting in a heavy-handed way or with severity. Other people might still react to you as if there are still those baser feelings at play in you, but that won’t be the truth, just their reaction and misinterpretation. So I guess the final word is that living in a higher consciousness won’t save you from offending people. In fact, you might offend more people than you would otherwise, but you won’t be acting from ego and that’s what counts.
Stay away from the incomplete parts of Islam through ISIS. That dreaming ISIS. There are no dreaming years.
He told me that a harsh character found the credit for character within their character.
I have a lethal weapon. ISIS too has integers. Heatblast leave a notebook. They put a bomb in this kid’s mouth. That so formula.
my muse (inner voice and vision)
The following is an excerpt from an article in Dabiq[i], the first official magazine of Islamic State. It quotes three dreams of the suicide bomber of the Brussels metro in 2016, dreams he had in the months before he died:
“Khālid al-Bakrāwī (Abū Walīd al-Baljīkī) Metro Station Istishhādī
A man of strong character, a natural leader, Khālid was guided while in prison after having a vivid, life-changing dream. He saw that he was alongside the Prophet fighting the disbelievers. Narrating his dream, he said, “It was a vision. After hearing the last verse of al-Fath[ii] recited in a loud voice, I saw the Prophet on a horse in battle, a distance away. The vision took me beyond the battlefield. I saw myself as an archer shooting arrows at the enemy. I would shoot, take cover, then shoot again.” He narrated other details of the dream and said, “I then woke up, back in my prison cell.”
After leaving prison, full of conviction and steadfastness, he started giving da’wah in his neighborhood, calling the youth to make hijrah to Shām. He also wrote a few articles on the crusades of the era fought by the West against the Muslims. All preparations for the raids in Paris and Brussels started with him and his older brother Ibrāhīm. These two brothers gathered the weapons and the explosives. After the blessed raid in Paris, he saw another dream, which motivated him to carry out an istishhādī operation. He narrated, “The second dream was three months ago. It was a vision that took place from fajr[iii] until dhuhr[iv]. I arose to a high place, as if I was in space, surrounded by stars; but the sky was like the blue of night.” He then heard a voice in the dream telling him that he was created only to worship Allah and ordering him to fight for His cause and make His word supreme. He then woke up.
Abū Walīd then narrated a third dream: “I had a vision that also took place from fajr until dhuhr, but ended at night. I saw myself on a boat along with Abū Sulaymān and another brother. Each of us had a Turkish soldier as a hostage. I had a pistol and Abū Sulaymān had a belt. I told him to give me his belt, as I would feel better having it. So he gave me the belt and I gave him my pistol. I then quickly advanced with the Turkish hostage in order to close in on other soldiers, two of whom were in front of us. I detonated my belt, killing the soldiers. My head then descended to the ground. One of the brothers working on the operation and Shaykh al-‘Adnānī took my head and said, ‘Check to see if he is smiling or not.’ I then saw my soul and those of the three soldiers. All of a sudden, the soldiers’ souls burned and vanished and, suddenly, the banner of Islam – represented in the dream by the flag of the Islamic State – came out of the earth and was shining brightly. My soul then became full of light.” He then heard a voice in the dream telling him that he had achieved deliverance. Abū Walīd continued, “I prostrated quickly and repeatedly pronounced the takbīr[v]. I then awoke to find my heart beating fast, and I was taking quick breaths.”
One would expect the leader of ISIS, al-baghdadi, whom they claim to be the Caliph of Islam, to be the dreamer they are reporting here, not some corporal who’s only going to kill himself after having such ‘inspiring’ dreams. This is the first time Dabiq, their English medium magazine, has included a dream account that aims at showing Allah inspired a suicide attack[vi], and it’s interesting that it comes a month after I posted a comment on Internet Archive where a copy of the previous issue of Dabiq was made available. That comment included a link to a poem video[vii] I’d been sending out for the previous month trying to get the video to ISIS. In the video, among other things, I ask why someone with the spiritual stature al-baghdadi’s supposed to have doesn’t guide by his dreams and implied that their decisions as a group do not come from dreams and visions but from things like Google maps, the need for men and supplies, the lust for power, and the like.
I can only speculate whether this dream account and the claim that “both IS leaders and members strongly relate to their nightly dreams”[viii] and a rumor circulating that al-baghdadi used a dream to make a military decision in 2014, are a result of ISIS seeing the video and trying to prove me wrong. I can, however, be reasonably sure they’ve seen it by now, will probably read this article, and so I want to take this opportunity given me to examine this dream account in the light my experience with dreaming. In my opinion, much of the supposed guidance in these dreams is a mixture of Khalid’s dispositions and desires as well as a hostile influence pushing him toward the act of destruction he carried out in Belgium, dreams which are being reported by ISIS for propaganda purposes. In my analysis of these dreams, it’s my intention to try and expose these corrupting elements, as well as the misunderstanding and misinterpretation by Khalid of some genuine symbolic elements in these dreams in order to suit his lethal intentions.
Encountering it has made me realize it’s not wise to call for a society-wide wholesale opening to dream and vision. That would be, as Douglas said when I told him these dreams, a disaster. Neither is it a good idea to encourage people to guide by their dreams without first warning them dreams can deceive as much if not more than they can help, and that, long before they can be a good source of guidance, you have to have cultivated an integral understanding of their nature and purpose in the course of working with your dreams over a long period of time. You have to explore dream, not simply have them and remember them. The inner revolution I’ve been talking about won’t come from simply opening to our dreams but from learning to use them to go deeper within ourselves to discover who and what in truth we are. It seems fairly obvious Khālid didn’t use his dreams to discover truth, was not an inner explorer. He sees himself in them and believes whatever he sees.
To take a dream or vision at face value, as if it’s an oracle of truth because it comes from inside us, can lead to tragedy, what these dreams led Khālid to. He didn’t understand that dreams, more often than not, show us what’s going on with us, what we want to do, not what we should do, what we fear will happen, not what will happen, what we think the truth is, not what it is, and he didn’t know that they are constantly tampered with by the hostile powers, the field of dreams being their stomping ground, they being the non-physical creatures that they are. Between us Douglas and I have over 50 years of daily experience working with our dreams, oftentimes with the dreams of others, and although they’ve become for us a source of guidance, because we’ve developed dreaming to the degree we have, we have to be constantly on our guard so as not to be fooled, and I still get fooled sometimes.
That brings in the other corrupting element of these dreams I want to expose, one that’s made examining them a challenge, and that’s the fact that they have clearly been doctored to spout ideology and are being used as tools of propaganda. It’s not possible to separate with complete certainty what Khālid actually dreamed and what both he and Dabiq added to and subtracted from his dream accounts, and most certainly such has been done to these dreams. They bear the mark of the spin doctor. As my muse puts it, “added literature, fake literature, fake news from Allah.” To one degree or another, it’s a factor to consider in any dream account you hear second hand, but with one from ISIS, a religious/socio/political group of extremists that have taken propaganda to new levels of deception and style, it’s the major consideration.
To simply pass these dreams off as propaganda, however, and therefore not worth the trouble to examine, would be foolish. They’re being used by ISIS to convince others to carry out suicide attacks, and, however much they were misinterpreted and misrepresented by Khālid and doctored and construed by Dabiq, these dreams, in their raw form, were a factor in convincing him to kill himself and as many unsuspecting everyday people as he could in the process and to aid others to do the same, which he does as obediently as a house dog.
Not being able to see these dreams as he really had them but doctored as they are, I’m unable to say how much they were just showing him what was cooking with him and how much they have been tampered with by the hostile powers. It’s an influence on us in dream and vision, as Douglas has been showing in his two latest articles. How big an influence depends on the individual and their opening to the beast in themselves. That such an influence is acting upon ISIS I have no doubt, not only by the depravity of their brutality, but also by coming into contact with it as I was making the above mentioned video, the physical effects of which I talk about in the introduction to the video on this blog.[ix]
To one degree or another, each one of us are under the influence of the hostile powers, even people considered good, and when we learn this it will greatly change the way we understand and deal with human evil, since we’ll see an outside will acting upon us that can become stronger than our own. In the case of ISIS as a group, however, that influence has taken over, and it’s as though they have fallen into a hole they cannot now climb out of. They let it in with their diabolical violence, no doubt as a means to gain quick attention, but I’m sure they didn’t understand that it’s not a door they can close once it’s open, unless they renounce and repent being ISIS, and even then its mark will be upon them the rest of their lives, a stealthy persistent influence awaiting re-entry.
The process known as radicalization, whether that be done face to face by an inman or whoever or indirectly through social media, is insufficient to account for why someone such as Khālid, a native of the city he blew such a monstrous hole into, would so willingly annihilate himself and as many others as he could, the worst thing in his power to do, something that aims at destroying the very idea of what it means to be a human being. That lethal idea got ahold of him when he opened to ISIS, probably even before he contacted them, as it’s done and is doing to many today, all over the globe, completely independent of ISIS, and it’s a conscious idea and non-human, anti-divine, and human suffering is its food. This phenomenon, to go off and kill as many people as you can however you can, is a conscious formation working within the collective field of human consciousness, in other words an active virus in the collective inner life of humanity, that in ISIS has found a home, but it’s worked it’s dire spell on anyone who goes on a killing rampage, which, in our times, has become something panhuman.
A person opens the door to that lethal idea when they hate, be that a hatred of society itself or some group within it, and even if they themselves don’t carry it out or even consciously consider it, their hate is a will acting on anyone who does, aiding and abetting the hostile formation. Since we live in a collective, shared field of consciousness, our hate accumulates and becomes a force that seeks action, which manifests in individuals such as Khālid and anyone else whose action annihilates. In other words, we are all partly to blame for such tragedies. It’s not possible at this time to directly fight the hostile formation, but we can work to stop the hatred among ourselves so at least our collective will isn’t helping it to manifest its hell.
How are we all partly to blame? The hatred of whom is considered evil, including ISIS, is also hatred that becomes will for a mass murderer to murder, and when you examine it, hating whom we consider bad is basically the how and why we hate, the bad people being, most often, those people not of our kind, which could be and often is simply just a person of another political party. We really need to look at this, since it’s what’s giving rise to groups like ISIS to begin with, because, on the inside of humanity, hatred is the order of the day, and, on the inside, it’s so much stronger. We, meaning you and I, whoever you are, are not innocent of their coming to be.
Whatever ISIS may say, the driving force behind them isn’t a passionate love for God but a murderous hatred of anyone not them, whom they feel are either non-believers or bad believers, which is anyone who isn’t a member or supporter of ISIS. In such a narrow hateful environment it’s no wonder the hostile formation pushing for annihilation is given such free play, seems to seize people who want to join ISIS, be the idea many if not most have in their minds as what they want to do as ISIS members, kill themselves and as many other people as possible at the same time, and it’s no accident it’s what ISIS uses as its major weapon, is something so characteristic of and central to its existence.
“A force demoniac lurking in man’s depths That heaves suppressed by the heart’s human law, Awed by the calm and sovereign eyes of Thought, Can in a fire and earthquake of the soul Arise and, calling to its native night, Overthrow the reason, occupy the life And stamp its hoof on Nature’s shaking ground.”
It’s so telling that, when ISIS begins to publish personal dream accounts of their members, they choose this one from a suicide bomber and construe the whole account to lead up to a justification of his actions, wanting us to believe God himself, through whatever divine intermediaries, not only willed him to do it but gave him the mission to. But the propagandists in Dabiq do not know enough about dream and vision to pull it off, about human nature either, and they do not know that when you are claiming to embody the one and only truth upon earth, and you use lies to spread that truth, you reveal that you’re not embodying it.
One can dream anything, and dreams can help us heal ourselves and others (the more so the more conscious soul contact we have), which is what Douglas and I have been focusing on this blog, the helpful nature of dreams, but they can also trick us into hurting and killing people, the latter depending on how much influence there is from the hostile powers and how much we want to hurt and kill, an aspect of dream we have neglected to give the emphasis it needs, since dreams and visions are so often a factor when one of us harms (not only bodily) or kills others. I cannot emphasize enough that any dream or vision that’s telling you directly or indirectly to do something must be ardently questioned and not automatically obeyed, even when they’re telling you to preach what you feel is the truth, most especially when they’re telling you to harm yourself and others or bring yourself glory, regardless of whatever divine clothes the mission may be wearing to give it authority and a look of righteousness.
Dreams and visions are most trustworthy as guides when they’re suggesting or telling you not to do something that would violate others or harm yourself or aggrandize your ego. Khālid doesn’t even bat an eye when a voice in dream tells him that he’s achieved deliverance by carrying out a suicide bombing. He falls to his knees and blesses God over and over, and then simply goes out into the waking world and carries it out, believing by that mournful deed he’ll be liberated from sin and death.
Or so Dabiq would have us believe. That he willingly carried out his attack is something that doesn’t seem to be in question. The question is, of course, how much is Dabiq putting those words of divine mission into his dreams’ mouth?
As I suggested but didn’t explain in the beginning, dreams of this stature, ascending upon high to receive a divine word and mission, seeing your soul transfigure and hearing another god-word telling you you’ve been liberated, among other things, are characteristic of a prophet, seer, or significant religious figure, not some fall guy about to blow himself up no different from the all the rest doing that. Either Dabiq or the hostile powers added these seer elements, the former to fool us and the latter to fool Khālid, and it’s a tossup as to who did the most fooling.
The dream account begins with a quote from the Quran. Although Khālid was in the restricted environment of prison and perhaps hearing or reciting that verse often, it’s unusual to hear something of such length and clarity in dream all in one go, but not impossible. It’s more probable he heard a portion of it and reported he heard the entire verse. Although it’s saying to be harsh to unbelievers and merciful to believers, it’s not a call to arms and seems to suggest Christians and Jews are believers too, though in the one God not in Mohammed, as other verses in the Quran suggest. If you were a jihadist and were adding material to this dream, you’d pick a less ambiguous verse for your cause, one reason this dream seems to me to be more genuine, another being that it’s a common feature of dreams, if you’re devoted to a religion as Khālid was, to dream of the prominent religious figures of it, especially in the sort of monastery prison can be if you are religiously devout. Add to that he was most likely being indoctrinated in the jihadist interpretation of Islam and therefore when he sees such a figure, it’s not surprising it’s on a battlefield. It’s significant that Mohammed is nowhere in sight when he’s shooting arrows at the enemy, a symbol they interpret to mean he’s to conduct jihad, but in my experience with this symbol, it has more to do with pointed messages you send to people than actual fighting, what we see him doing when he gets out of prison and is writing articles about jihad. Whatever the case, if the verse was added or embellished or if it’s a truthfully told dream, both Khālid and Dabiq interpret this dream to mean much more than it does in itself. It’s interpreted as his first call to arms in jihad, where he will end up indiscriminately killing anybody in the Brussels Metro near him in the near future, be they Muslim, Christian, Jew, or whomever.
Dabiq frames these dreams, as I’m showing, to lead up to Allah ordaining his suicide mission, through whatever channels of dream and divinity. Dabiq tells us that in this first dream he’s fighting alongside the Prophet, a framing technique that puts Khālid and his actions on equal footing with the battles Mohammed fought, In the dream, however, he’s some distance away, and in dream that’s quite significant, the distance we are from someone a symbolic representation of our actual proximity to them in terms of our intimacy with their person. When it’s a religious figure, it shows how close we are to their ideal, not only their person. Here, he’s not close but some distance away, and we aren’t told Mohammed’s looking at him or even aware of him, probably because he wasn’t, and that would put a lot more distance between he and Mohammed and would suggest he has little or no part in Mohammed’s battles, and so Dabiq embellishes greatly by saying he’s beside Mohammed. A dream shift occurs, and we see him shooting arrows at an enemy fighting wherever beyond the battlefield is. It’s not alongside Mohammed. The further details of the dream we aren’t given, and you have to wonder if that’s because it would detract from the impression they want to give. Since dreams are symbolic, the more details you have the better you can interpret the meaning of a dream. Dabiq describes this as a life-changing dream, what put Khālid on the path that would ultimately lead him to carry out his suicide mission.
The second and third dreams are framed within the call to prayer, beginning at the dawn prayer and ending at the noon one, and it’s not unusual for dream to initiate on an outer sound and end on one, especially end, if the sound wakes us up. What’s odd here is the length of the dreams. Several hours is a long time for a single dream. In fact, neither Douglas nor I have heard of a continuous dream lasting that long, and these dreams are not full of dream shifts, one of the most noticeable characteristics of dream, where the individual elements and scenario are changing constantly, and the longer the dream the more shifting there is. They are presented as having the continuity of waking life experience, one scenario that plays itself out in dreams that we are told lasts several hours. That’s just not characteristic of dream, as I’ve said. It makes me hold framing the two dreams within the call to prayer under suspicion, something either Khālid or Dabiq embellished slightly or greatly to suggest his dreams were participating directly with Islam.
I cannot say much more about the second dream other than dreams do give people missions, as any study of dreaming down through the ages will show, and such dreams usually involve spreading a religion, and so he could’ve had this dream as it’s related, whatever’s askew about its length, but it’s too by the numbers for me not to question it, too literal. Besides, Khālid’s contemplating murderous suicide by this time, and you wouldn’t imagine the heaven of Islam here leading him further along that path, but you would the hostile powers. I’ll also say that, when examining the truth value of a dream account you hear secondhand, just being given a summary of what the voice of dream said and not the exact words, you have to be suspicious either a lot’s been lost in the summary or it’s been made to mean what the people reporting it want it to.
The third dream ties the dream account specifically to suicide bombing, what it’s been leading up to since the beginning: showing it was willed by Heaven and was a blessed and sacred act. It’s also the most over the top dream in terms of divine fireworks, and therefore the most, I feel, tampered with by Dabiq. The first part of the dream is quite normal as far as dream goes and shows in symbolic terms his growing desire to kill himself and others, what he’s been thinking about in regards to it, which seems to be how brave and daring he’ll be, not should he do it. (He is by this time convinced that he should and is aiding others to do that and planning attacks.) Is he smiling or not represents the question of his bravado, and it’s interesting that it’s not answered. Instead, a remarkable thing happens: he sees his soul.
Seeing a representation of the soul in dream isn’t all that uncommon. While this may have been what he dreamed, it’s a little suspicious to me in light of the video I mentioned where I question ISIS about dreaming. The video, in its essence, is about the soul, and in it I say that they are not in contact with their soul nor have knowledge of it. It’s the biggest challenge I make in the video. Did Dabiq add this to his dream so to prove me wrong, or was it indeed a part of it? We have no way of knowing without further information, but because from here on out the dreams ceases to be symbolic and becomes more literal, the whole nature of the dream changing from a vital one to a religious and spiritual one, I think it’s a legitimate question.
If you were adding such things of course you’d show that the souls of the enemy, who are also Muslim we can reasonably assume, are inferior, their souls being gray insignificant things and just burning up while Khālid’s undergoes a transfiguration, but not before this happens: “suddenly, the banner of Islam – represented in the dream by the flag of the Islamic State – came out of the earth and was shining brightly.” Why the commentary here? Why doesn’t he just say the flag of ISIS? Because they want to say that the flag of Islam and ISIS are one and the same and therefore that ISIS is the true Islam. Because they are not truthfully reporting a dream account but are spouting propaganda.
Once his soul transfigures and becomes full of light, Dabiq calls him Abū Walīd and not Khālid, the name change in the account is significant no doubt, coming as it does after his transfiguration and after he’d detonated his belt. He’s now the son of his father, the son of Islam being the implication here I feel. In any event, now he’s somebody.
Once he saw his soul it appears he became the observer in the dream and not a participant, a common characteristic of dream, switching back and forth from observing to participating, but wouldn’t he be his soul and not his mortal self once his soul transfigures, seeing how he’s again a participant prostrating himself and blessing Allah and is no longer the observer? I ask this question based on what I know about coming into contact with your immortal soul. You wouldn’t wake up from a dream of being your transfigured soul excited like a little kid. You’d have had a brush with eternity and be filled with the calm and peace such contact brings. Neither, by the way, would you be liberated from sin and death by such a murderous suicidal action, and if the voice of dream did actually say that, and again we hear a summary and not the exact words, it’s not the soul’s voice or the divine’s. It’s the hostile powers’ or a manifestation of Khālid’s intense desire to carry out such a tragic act.
It seems they’re trying to make this out as a religious experience and not just a dream, what Khālid seems to feel all three dreams are, why he calls them visions no doubt. It’s clear he’s not using the word vision in the sense I do, as dreams you have or voices you hear when awake but in a slight trance or in twilight, between waking and sleeping, usually much less immersive and shorter than sleeping dreams. Dabiq sticks to the term dream throughout, and I can’t help but wonder at the discrepancy. Would it have anything to do with my challenge to them in regards to dream? If they too called them visions, the account wouldn’t get the tag it needed to go out into the world as proof they are into their dreams and guide by them. It’s a no accident the discrepancy is there, since this is propaganda, and every word is purposefully placed. Whatever the case, this third dream is too incongruent for me to accept either as a truthfully reported dream or a religious experience. It’s a carefully construed piece of propaganda of the most potent kind, like the other two dreams, having just enough truth in them so as not to be able to clearly see the lies. Here with this dream, however, they are so bent on spouting ideology they show their hand.
To get any real picture of what was going on with Khālid’s dreams, we’d have to see an unedited dream journal that tried to include as many of the thousands of dreams he had in the months before he died, not only the ones that seem to be telling him to become a suicide bomber. Since he was calling on God, focused on Islam, and no sincere call goes unanswered no matter how seemingly unfit the vessel, he would’ve had dreams that questioned the dire action that had taken hold of his mind, dreams that tried to warn him and that contradicted ISIS, and I say this based on being myself an unfit vessel but still calling on God, not as one righteous pointing the finger at Khālid. I have gotten so much help from dream and vision. We all get help to one degree or another, and no doubt Khālid did too, since dreams aren’t just random firings of the subconscious regurgitating our lives but meaningful insights into ourselves and our world, however much they can be tampered with by hostile powers or people with bad intentions or by our own, but we have to be able to see the true from the false in dream and cling to the true, and towards this end I submit my article.
“Injustice justified by firm decrees The sovereign weights of Error’s legalised trade, But all the weights were false and none the same; Ever she watched with her balance and a sword, Lest any sacrilegious word expose The sanctified formulas of her old misrule. In high professions wrapped self-will walked wide And licence stalked prating of order and right: There was no altar raised to Liberty; True freedom was abhorred and hunted down: Harmony and tolerance nowhere could be seen Each group proclaimed its dire and naked Law. A frame of ethics knobbed with scriptural rules Or a theory passionately believed in a praised A table seemed of high Heaven’s sacred code. A formal practice mailed and iron-shod Gave to a rude and ruthless warrior kind Drawn from the savage bowels of the earth A proud stern poise of harsh nobility, A civic posture rigid and formidable. But all their private acts belied the pose: Power and utility were their Truth and Right, An eagle rapacity clawed its coveted good, Beaks pecked and talons tore all weaker prey. In their sweet secrecy of pleasant sins Nature they obeyed and not a moralist God. Inconscient traders in bundles of contraries, They did what in others they would persecute; When their eyes looked upon their fellow’s vice, An indignation flamed, a virtuous wrath; Oblivious of their own deep-hid offence, Mob-like they stoned a neighbor caught in sin.”
[ii] Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. Those who are with him are harsh against the unbelievers but merciful to one another. You see them bow and prostrate themselves seeking the bounty and pleasure of Allah. Their mark is on their faces from the trace of prostration. That is their likeness in the Torah and their likeness in the Gospel, as the seed which puts forth its shoot and strengthens it, so that it grows stout and rises straight upon its stalk, delighting the sowers, and through them He enrages the unbelievers. Allah has promised those of them who believe and do good deeds, forgiveness and a great wage.
[vi]https://sustainablesecurity.org/2016/09/08/islamic-state-and-dream-warfare/ “These issues are the first times Dabiq has contained personal dream reports of significant IS members intending to demonstrate the glorious Allah inspired sacrifice of their martyrs.” I should also credit Iain R. Edgar, a dream researcher at Durham University, who published the above article and others about the dreams of ISIS on the web, what alerted me to their existence.
In my last blog I gave an example of a dream where I feel I had an actual encounter with a hostile being, that is, a being of conscious darkness. I have another example I wanted to share in this post.
This dream happened quite a number of years ago when Donny and I were living in Cusco Peru. We stayed there for a span of months and shortly after arriving we befriended a group of holistic doctors there. Two of these doctors, Carlos and Luis, had a small apartment in Cusco, but on the weekends went to their homes and families in the small town of Urubamba nearby. Donny was a frequent weekend guest at Carlos’ house, and I went less frequently to stay with Luis. Luis had four children who were all teenagers or in their early twenties. One of them was a daughter, Chani, if I remember her name correctly.
The first few times I stayed with Luis and his family, I slept on the floor in an unused dental examination room. On one of those early visits I had a dream I was there on the floor in that room and Chani was on top of me, but fully clothed. She lowered her face to mine and we started kissing, but the experience was rather unpleasant, as she was moving her tongue around rapidly and violently in a circle. I opened my eyes and instead of Chani there was a being like the alien from the movie Predator in the sense that it was transparent, but I could still make it out and see its features to some extent. It was humanoid, but more bizarre and alien looking than anything Hollywood has ever managed to come up with. What I remember most clearly about it though was a small beak like thing it had for a mouth that had a tongue like thing that was circling around the outside of the beak the same way it had been doing in my mouth just few seconds before. Then I woke up and it was either still dark out or dawn was just beginning while in the dream the room had been fully lit.
If I remember correctly I came to the conclusion pretty quickly that the being I was kissing and that had appeared to me in Chani’s form was a hostile vital being. I also realized I had probably been in the cataleptic state back in my body, yet still in the dream state when the encounter occurred. The whole thing made a strong impression on me and I’ve never forgotten it over the years. I’ve also had other dreams where I was kissing someone and there was something unpleasant about it, -usually it’s something they’re doing with their tongue, but sometimes their mouth has a really gross taste- and I’ve wondered if at those times I was kissing another one of these beings in disguise. I honestly don’t know though nor do I know if it’s possible to have intimacy in a dream with one of these beings and have it be marvelous. I just know what I experienced that one time.
Both Sri Aurobindo and the Mother have spoken at length about these types of vital beings in their talks and writings. According to their experience there seems to be a whole spectrum of them from fallen divine beings to small mischievous entities that like to cause accidents. And some classes of these beings it appears are actually spawned from our own lower desires while we’re still alive or from parts of our own vital makeup after we die.1 And for all these types of vital beings their food is the energy we give off during lower vital movements such as lust, anger, depression etc., and they’re pushing our buttons and setting up situations both in dream and waking life to get us to give off these types of energies. My feeling on the matter is that if our eyes were suddenly unsealed and we saw how pervasive their influence is, how much they’re pulling our strings, not just individually but collectively, we’d all be in for one hell of a shock. In his epic Savitri, Sri Aurobindo speaks about their pervasiveness in a very striking passage. He tells us:
Their whispers come, an inarticulate force, Awake in mind an echoing thought or word, To their sting of impulse the heart’s sanction draw, And in that little Nature do their work And fill its powers and creatures with unease. Its seed of joy they curse with sorrow’s fruit, Put out with error’s breath its scanty lights And turn its surface truths to falsehood’s ends, Its small emotions spur, its passions drive To the abyss or through the bog and mire: Or else with a goad of hard dry lusts they prick, While jogs on devious ways that nowhere lead Life’s cart finding no issue from ignorance. To sport with good and evil is their law; Luring to failure and meaningless success, All models they corrupt, all measures cheat, Make knowledge a poison, virtue a pattern dull And lead the endless cycles of desire Through semblances of sad or happy chance To an inescapable fatality. All by their influence is enacted there.2
Now I think it’s necessary to point out that in this passage he’s describing their action and influence in the vital planes or the ‘Kingdoms of the Little Life’ as he puts it. As the passage continues however he goes on to point out they’re doing the same thing here in our material world.
Nor there alone is their empire or their role: Wherever are soulless minds and guideless lives And in a small body self is all that counts, Wherever love and light and largeness lack, These crooked fashioners take up their task. To all half-conscious worlds they extend their reign. Here too these godlings drive our human hearts, Our nature’s twilight is their lurking-place: Here too the darkened primitive heart obeys The veiled suggestions of a hidden Mind That dogs our knowledge with misleading light And stands between us and the Truth that saves. It speaks to us with the voices of the Night: Our darkened lives to greater darkness move; Our seekings listen to calamitous hopes. A structure of unseeing thoughts is built And reason used by an irrational Force.3
Discussing this article with Donny, he pointed out again something we’ve talked about before, and that’s how the knowledge of how much these ‘crooked fashioners’ are involved in our lives and in all the harm that’s done on this planet is something that has to come out on a societal level and be looked at squarely in the face if we’re going to effectively deal with human wrongdoing and evolve to a state beyond these hostile influences. In science fiction there’s the common theme of humanity uniting to face a common alien invasion, and I can see how this knowledge of hostile forces and beings manipulating and controlling us could serve as a catalyst, or one of them at least, that will give humanity a reason to unite and a common enemy to fight against. This would be a battle of a different kind though since the fight would to free ourselves from their influence, the kingdom conquered our own purified nature and we would all be allies trying to help each other win that personal and at the same time collective war. I honestly don’t expect to see this sort of shift in my lifetime, but I do think it’s coming. How it will all be played out though remains to be seen.
Harm's End 