There are only a couple of spaces left on board the train. What's our first stop? The luminous field of spiritual electricity. Who will meet us at the station? Read on...
Thunder and lightning here in Toronto on this fine and rainy Saturday night. I look forward to another round of lightning to come, both inside and out. And thunder too (“funder”, as a child I once knew used to call it).
Thank you for this post, Hillary. I thought I'd share this dream from last night, for what it's worth. It was a very vivid one, so I wrote it down when I woke up -- it had the flavor of reality that some of my dreams do -- the ones that come true in some way.
I think back to the couple of Intensives I attended in Arizona. At that time, I was still really uneasy about Jesus, and I remember that coming up -- that people would believe in anything, but they wouldn't say they loved Jesus. Little by little, I've felt drawn to him since then, in different, unexpected ways. A year or two ago, I heard a Byzantine Orthodox chant that just made me cry and cry, and that was a new and fruitful inroad. Lately, another long recording of singing of Greek monks has moved me -- I just keep listening again and again. I think that's related.
Lately, when I've been doing Qigong, I've been saying the Jesus prayer in my mind, trying to feel it intensely -- "Lord Jesus, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." A couple nights ago, I felt a response, a feeling like a thought. And so I wonder if the dream follows on the heels of that. Before that, interestingly, I had a dream about being in a group home with young people, and there was a strange scene of changing light bulbs in the bathroom -- I was surprised that incandescent bulbs were on top of fluorescent bulbs.
Bu in the dream I wanted to share, a group of us were in a cozy, dark home, sitting on comfortable sofas. It was "my" house in the dream. It was a group of Intensive students. Brad and Hillary came in and sat on one loveseat, or near each other on perpendicular L-shaped love seats. What I noticed was, both were heavy-lidded, but from extreme ecstatic drunkenness -- like, they were so saturated with love, deep in bliss, they could hardly keep their eyes open, but wanted to melt into it.
I asked them, "Is it okay, since I'm here, if I participate?" Brad wasn't sure, but Hillary thought about it and said... "Normally we don't allow that, and maybe if we were far away in a foreign, exotic place, you'd have to join like everyone else does, but since we're already here, we'll see what happens." I said, "I've been doing Qigong, so I'm more sensitive now." They didn't say anything to that, but conveyed the feeling, "Yeah, ok. We'll see about that."
Then, the ceremony began. I sat and closed my eyes and opened myself up to feel whatever happened. Whatever it was, it was very subtle and calm -- like they began by humming, or playing a very soft, gentle music. I just melted into listening to it, and I noticed my hands twitching a little, or my head, and I just went with it, letting myself be guided. Then, as I listened more deeply, the music got stronger -- and it reminded me of being "inducted" into an ayahuasca ceremony, where suddenly you find you're going way deeper from the surface-play.
In my mind's eye, I saw like... a pattern of L's, or like a herringbone brick pattern, slowly stack up and aim towards me, and I realized it was the shape of a long spear-arrow, which pierced my heart, and I groaned in ecstasy -- it hurt, but felt so good, and I could tell that Hillary was pleased -- she'd sent me an arrow of love.
Then, we were on a journey. I don't remember details, but it was like we were in a dark, maybe even rainy, neo-noir nightscape in the south, like Louisiana or Mississippi. I think I was in a car with them, or following them, going through all these streets. We got out... and then it was like they cut me loose, switched cars, and disappeared.
I was like, "Where did they go?" I missed them. But I was also pleased by the challenge and test. I simply quieted my mind, tuned into my heart, and asked to be led to them. I walked into an alley, and noticed this old brown 70's/80's station wagon pull up to the corner and parallel park under a streetlamp. A young man came out -- handsome-ish, skinny young white man. I thought it was strange. As he walked away, I walked up to him and asked him where he got the car. He said he traded it with a couple for his own car. He said they wanted privacy and valued that.
Somehow, I ran and found the car -- kind of like a newish, stylish hearse -- like a stretched-out purple-pink VW bug, brand new and shiny. It was Brad and Hillary getting into it, relaxing, ready to get away, all the doors open -- and I ran up, and jumped into the back seat to be with them, happy. They were a bit sad to lose their privacy, but I could sense I also passed a test.
As I sat back there, a young black man, maybe late teens or early 20s, showed up and got in the back -- as if it were a taxicab. They thought that was amusing, and started driving -- Hillary driving, me and Brad in the back. Brad was in his own zone, humming or singing to himself, looking out the window or just closing his eyes.
The young man said, "I need to hear music." I said, "How bad do you need to hear it?" He said, "I've GOT to hear some music" -- intense, serious. I said, "The potency of your prayer determines the quality of the response you get."
So, to this request, Brad began singing -- and the young man (and I) were waiting with bated breath to hear what Brad would sing, what kind of music. To me, and to my surprise, it sounded like a mix between a barbershop quartet song and a Baptist hymn -- I could see in my mind's eye 4 clean-cut men singing in harmony. It was almost absurd, but also so pure, and heart-breakingly simple. The words were, "I'm so happy, I'm so happy, I'm so happy, I'm so satis-fiiiiiiiiiiiiied." And that last line echoed into silence, and I just started crying -- intensely, but softly -- not messy. The young man was surprised and touched, and he said something like, "That song made him cry."
Then, the last thing I remember is that he had a squeezed out half of a grapefruit, and he squeezed a lime's juice into it, and gave it to me, then to Brad, to drink -- and it was so refreshing and delicious. He seemed to give the impression it was medicine.
Nothing quite like one of those dreamtime odysseys/capers. ;)
If Brad were to sing a hymn like a member of a Baptist barbershop quartet in Mississippi, it would definitely be about how happy and satisfied he is to have Jesus on the mainline.
Might as well take a swig of that grapefruit-lime concoction, it sounds tasty!
Thunder and lightning here in Toronto on this fine and rainy Saturday night. I look forward to another round of lightning to come, both inside and out. And thunder too (“funder”, as a child I once knew used to call it).
Funder it is!
Thank you for this post, Hillary. I thought I'd share this dream from last night, for what it's worth. It was a very vivid one, so I wrote it down when I woke up -- it had the flavor of reality that some of my dreams do -- the ones that come true in some way.
I think back to the couple of Intensives I attended in Arizona. At that time, I was still really uneasy about Jesus, and I remember that coming up -- that people would believe in anything, but they wouldn't say they loved Jesus. Little by little, I've felt drawn to him since then, in different, unexpected ways. A year or two ago, I heard a Byzantine Orthodox chant that just made me cry and cry, and that was a new and fruitful inroad. Lately, another long recording of singing of Greek monks has moved me -- I just keep listening again and again. I think that's related.
Lately, when I've been doing Qigong, I've been saying the Jesus prayer in my mind, trying to feel it intensely -- "Lord Jesus, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." A couple nights ago, I felt a response, a feeling like a thought. And so I wonder if the dream follows on the heels of that. Before that, interestingly, I had a dream about being in a group home with young people, and there was a strange scene of changing light bulbs in the bathroom -- I was surprised that incandescent bulbs were on top of fluorescent bulbs.
Bu in the dream I wanted to share, a group of us were in a cozy, dark home, sitting on comfortable sofas. It was "my" house in the dream. It was a group of Intensive students. Brad and Hillary came in and sat on one loveseat, or near each other on perpendicular L-shaped love seats. What I noticed was, both were heavy-lidded, but from extreme ecstatic drunkenness -- like, they were so saturated with love, deep in bliss, they could hardly keep their eyes open, but wanted to melt into it.
I asked them, "Is it okay, since I'm here, if I participate?" Brad wasn't sure, but Hillary thought about it and said... "Normally we don't allow that, and maybe if we were far away in a foreign, exotic place, you'd have to join like everyone else does, but since we're already here, we'll see what happens." I said, "I've been doing Qigong, so I'm more sensitive now." They didn't say anything to that, but conveyed the feeling, "Yeah, ok. We'll see about that."
Then, the ceremony began. I sat and closed my eyes and opened myself up to feel whatever happened. Whatever it was, it was very subtle and calm -- like they began by humming, or playing a very soft, gentle music. I just melted into listening to it, and I noticed my hands twitching a little, or my head, and I just went with it, letting myself be guided. Then, as I listened more deeply, the music got stronger -- and it reminded me of being "inducted" into an ayahuasca ceremony, where suddenly you find you're going way deeper from the surface-play.
In my mind's eye, I saw like... a pattern of L's, or like a herringbone brick pattern, slowly stack up and aim towards me, and I realized it was the shape of a long spear-arrow, which pierced my heart, and I groaned in ecstasy -- it hurt, but felt so good, and I could tell that Hillary was pleased -- she'd sent me an arrow of love.
Then, we were on a journey. I don't remember details, but it was like we were in a dark, maybe even rainy, neo-noir nightscape in the south, like Louisiana or Mississippi. I think I was in a car with them, or following them, going through all these streets. We got out... and then it was like they cut me loose, switched cars, and disappeared.
I was like, "Where did they go?" I missed them. But I was also pleased by the challenge and test. I simply quieted my mind, tuned into my heart, and asked to be led to them. I walked into an alley, and noticed this old brown 70's/80's station wagon pull up to the corner and parallel park under a streetlamp. A young man came out -- handsome-ish, skinny young white man. I thought it was strange. As he walked away, I walked up to him and asked him where he got the car. He said he traded it with a couple for his own car. He said they wanted privacy and valued that.
Somehow, I ran and found the car -- kind of like a newish, stylish hearse -- like a stretched-out purple-pink VW bug, brand new and shiny. It was Brad and Hillary getting into it, relaxing, ready to get away, all the doors open -- and I ran up, and jumped into the back seat to be with them, happy. They were a bit sad to lose their privacy, but I could sense I also passed a test.
As I sat back there, a young black man, maybe late teens or early 20s, showed up and got in the back -- as if it were a taxicab. They thought that was amusing, and started driving -- Hillary driving, me and Brad in the back. Brad was in his own zone, humming or singing to himself, looking out the window or just closing his eyes.
The young man said, "I need to hear music." I said, "How bad do you need to hear it?" He said, "I've GOT to hear some music" -- intense, serious. I said, "The potency of your prayer determines the quality of the response you get."
So, to this request, Brad began singing -- and the young man (and I) were waiting with bated breath to hear what Brad would sing, what kind of music. To me, and to my surprise, it sounded like a mix between a barbershop quartet song and a Baptist hymn -- I could see in my mind's eye 4 clean-cut men singing in harmony. It was almost absurd, but also so pure, and heart-breakingly simple. The words were, "I'm so happy, I'm so happy, I'm so happy, I'm so satis-fiiiiiiiiiiiiied." And that last line echoed into silence, and I just started crying -- intensely, but softly -- not messy. The young man was surprised and touched, and he said something like, "That song made him cry."
Then, the last thing I remember is that he had a squeezed out half of a grapefruit, and he squeezed a lime's juice into it, and gave it to me, then to Brad, to drink -- and it was so refreshing and delicious. He seemed to give the impression it was medicine.
Nothing quite like one of those dreamtime odysseys/capers. ;)
If Brad were to sing a hymn like a member of a Baptist barbershop quartet in Mississippi, it would definitely be about how happy and satisfied he is to have Jesus on the mainline.
Might as well take a swig of that grapefruit-lime concoction, it sounds tasty!
:)
:)