AN HOMAGE TO MY DREAM GROUP: An unforgettable mystical dream

Preface

Sages inform us
life itself is a dream
and the lifetime of a person is
“a dream right into a dream.”
A nighttime dream may then be
“a dream right into a dream right into a dream.”

And but: May it’s
that since all of those modes
derive from one nice Supply,
all are sacred?

I.

Bear with me, reader.
This may’t be instructed in a couple of phrases.

5 months now I’ve been
in a month-to-month Dream Group on Zoom,
4 of us from completely different elements of the U.S.
taking turns presenting goals
after which we spend an hour providing
our insights, intuitions and questions.

II.

This month it was my flip.
Right here’s my dream:
I’m in a darkish motel room
with my wife and a buddy.
No clue the place we’re
or the place we’re going.

Immediately, the room enlarges
to incorporate, with out a separating wall,
the motel workplace and an Indian supervisor—
a heavy-set man with a bushy mustache—
sitting in a chair beside his desk.
The motel workplace is lit
and its partitions are orange wooden.
Between his chair and the place “our room” begins
is a strip of wall on which
three rifles are mounted vertically.

I have a look at the Supervisor and ask,
“Why do you have got weapons on the wall?”
He seems to be at me as if to say,
“Weapons?”

and once I look once more
I see not rifles however musical devices:
a mandolin with inlaid wooden,
a viola and a violin.

III.

In a part of the following dialogue
the members of our group ask me questions.
One asks, “What position has India performed in your life?”
I reply succinctly and actually.
“Mom India” and her Sages have performed a large position.*

As we amplify the dream—
a bit like a weaving a quilt collectively—
it regularly turns into clear
that together with his look,
this “humble Indian motel supervisor”
has remodeled in my notion of
the aggression represented by the rifles
into the androgynous magnificence of the devices.

This has been
the story of my life.
And everybody within the group
appears to get that.

IV.

All the small print of the dream
reinforce its theme.
The supervisor is sporting a plaid shirt.
One companion remarks,
“Plaid has a mix of colors.
That’s what plaid is!”
I say, “It jogs my memory of the madras
we used to put on in highschool.
“Made in India,” a member chimes in.

And our darkish motel room?
“On the Path, darkish night time of the soul,”
however with expensive and trusted companions.

One member seems to be in her Dream Dictionary:
“The quantity two represents battle, duality.
Three represents decision.”
Fascinating, on the very least.

V.

I had an exciting mystical dream not way back.
In these group classes our goals,
unwrapped by persistent, loving focus,
all appear by the tip of the hour
to have been “veiled mystical goals.”

I come away every month feeling
each dream is now mine—
regardless of whose head it befell in.

The Dream Group talked about is thru the auspices of the Dream College of “This Jungian Life.”

*Anybody questioning concerning the creator’s “India influences” might go to this text, and a second article to which it’s linked at its finish: COMING TO BABA: My 43-Yr Romance With Meher Baba»

picture: Max Reif