2. WAITING
I was disappointed. I couldn’t sit down in the waiting room. No chairs. Why? Did they want me to be uncomfortable? It’s always like this. They didn’t design this room for me. Then for whom?
I looked around for something to rest my eyes upon. The blank walls, ceiling, and floor didn’t do much for my imagination. ‘Good’, I thought. This gives me the freedom to dwell on what could be coming next. Exhaling deeply, I quieted my mind. Although, I didn’t sense any danger, an awake and ready mindset was essential.

The commander’s aide was standing outside the inner double metal gray doors. Dressed in dull green coveralls, with feet spread, hands clasped behind him, chest out, chin up and looking straight ahead, he seemed uninterested in me.

Usually, I wouldn’t mind standing for a while, especially for what I thought would be a few minutes. Today was different, I had been awake most of the night. After the nightmare, I couldn’t sleep, and was too tired to get up and do something useful. Eventually, I did drift off in the early morning, which resulted in oversleeping. Therefore, I didn’t have time to eat breakfast. On the way to the meeting room, I had passed the military kitchen and an opportunity for some nourishment. I could have kicked myself, as a growling stomach, and lethargy took over. Even though the military’s austere breakfast fare was a seaweed, soybean paste mishmash, it would have given me some energy.

A quote I remembered from the philosophical teachings of Meghnad the Great, helped me to see the situation in a bigger context. “Regret not, for what thou didst not do, accept the unseen plan, go forward with fiery intent, and scorch the skies with fresh aspirations undreamed of.”

My weariness almost drove me to sit on the floor. I’ve waited for water to boil, people to arrive and things to happen, but waiting for my appointment with Plack, the head of island security, tested my reserves of patience and alertness. To make matters worst, the chance that the earthquake dream might be prophetic, had me wondering whether I would survive the day.

Without intending, I began to pace, which was my usual ritual of coping with the unknown. Strutting mindfully helped to quell my impatience and anxiety. Gradually the strength of my determination to relax was rewarded by several involuntary exhalations as the tensions withdrew almost entirely, and a fresh wave of energy lifted my spirits.
Since the rhythmic plodding was deepening my sense of peace, I kept at it. I was aware that the guard was watching me. Being still might have been the most acceptable way to behave, but the thought of another possible plunge into despair or anxious imaginings, kept me moving.

After a half dozen laps from wall to wall, I remembered an illuminating conversation with my mother.

 

I’ve done what’s never been done before
at this time in history by me right now

******************

The how of what and the what of how?
How will the who of when tell us where the why happens?
Why will the now of when work the how into the where?
Where will most authentic whys re-fabricate the whens?

******************

We are what we are,
yet we can change profoundly
or we can remain profoundly unchanged.
It seems pretty obvious that we would naturally change just in the course of living,
but often times our self image, what we tell ourselves about ourselves doesn’t change much.
We find ourselves repeating the same judgements of who or what we are for years,
without addressing the triggers of that repetition.
Who we think we are can become better and better, day after day, if we so choose.
Let that be our intention, motto, dream, hope and vision
that every experience, every moment be used to improve our ability
to cope efficiently with the varied challenges that come our way.
Regardless of the setbacks, let’s not lose hope, and push on with renewed determination.
We can focus our minds to dismantle, reverse engineer and redesign our self affirmations,
so that we can begin to repeat to ourselves
wise self affirming, confidence building, and self worth enhancing statements
of strength, courage, and practical understanding.

Dream outside of your expectations
Imagine beyond your wildest dreams
Look deeper than your most profound ideas
Never stop wondering
how you can push your creative mind
Beyond its assumed limits.

What habitual thoughts
do I think I would be wise to continue thinking
and which ones
would I be wise to stop thinking?
*******************
Wanting to think of something profound,
wanting to be inspired, I milk the now of creativity.
Keep plugging away, typing away, dredging the mind for something worthwhile.
Looking, seeking, screening the thoughts for wonderful ideas.
Looking hopefully for a great course to follow with my imagination firing in all seven centers.
The maximum mystery will split the atom of absolute interest.
A way to manage the mystery of the moment
is to engage the reporter mind, the wondering mind, the active mind, the mind of relentless invention.
I tapped the energy that would transform my world. I selected the moment for my escape into infinity.
I realized what I needed and knew where it would turn up.
I knew what and how I was meant to think, to be, to create.
What I was meant to become, what I am meant to become is now apparent.
I can think outside the paradigm, outside the concepts that held me fast,
outside my karmic envelope, beyond the cause and effect paradox that encapsulated me.
I am beyond, bigger than, deeper than the mortal bubble of belief
that normally would define my mortal self.
I am able to uplift my heart with hope.
I can make an effort to redesign my thinking little by little,
thus transforming my behavior everyday, and the source of my troubles will be destroyed.
I am the invincible creative psyche that dwells in a qualitative surprise dimension.
Developing my arsenal of wisdom words through a definite turn of phrase and purpose,
I enable myself to adjust and modify in order to make the most of evolving circumstances.
It is my prerogative, my choice, my decision,
to do what it takes to transmogrify the menacing specter of mediocrity
that could abandon me in a wilderness of sadness, despair, and defeat.
I know better. I will never be defeated.
My true self of light, energy and intelligence can not be, will not be,
must not be defeated by whiffs of merciless worry.
I can affirm my power to overcome,
in the strong thoughts that I repeat without fatigue for thousands of times,
each with the energy of conviction and belief.
Positive confirmation of the possibility of my victory over negative circumstances
invigorates my striving soul to surpass its customary limitations.

I can be independent,
free and happy in the knowledge
that something profoundly helpful
is working behind the scenes,
and providing the support I need
to achieve the lofty goals
that I envision in my deepest moments
of attunement with the divine will.
This knowledge gives me the ultimate uplift.

Podcast – Ursula LeQuin Steering the Craft

I wake to the ache of discovering new possibilities.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy walking with me backwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is one thing I can do that changes everything,
All I have to do is remember to do that one thing,
persistently practice that one thing
and its practice will empower me
to change myself, my moments, my minutes, hours, days, years and life destiny.
That one thing is to keep my attention at the point between the eyebrows.
That point is the physiological center in the body,
the center of will power in the body,
and the site of the mystical spiritual eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We must continue to make more effort,
followed by more effort,
until we overcome,
until the best is won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we use our intuition and initiative
to establish beneficial trends
in the emotional and intellectual culture of our minds,
we make an extraordinary impact
on the contemplative climate of the world

By chance I will not allow,
but make a grand effort to plow
The fertile fields of inspiration.
And forthwith the creative flow
Shall trickle or flood through
My mind, ever receptive am I
To concepts, that deep, and meaningful
Will alter the destiny of my
Meditative ministry.

1. The Earthquake dream

I lain in bed for too long a time trying to calm my nerves so that I could go to sleep. Looking over the pile of books near by, I considered whether reading a book on abstruse science, or philosophy, would settle me into dream land.
I was dreading my meeting the next day with Plack, the security administrator.
A passage from a book of philosophic poetry, appeared to be a good way to instill fuzzy thinking, but I wanted something I could easily wrap my mind around, and not lose it in speculative pondering.

In a deep chamber of the universal mind,
dwelt the answer to the conundrum of  life,
wrangled with infinite ingenuity,
and consummating eternity.

I then turned to Trek’s Tome of Transcendent Travel, literally more practically focused on the rudiments of interstellar travel theory. I knew that space jaunts were possible. My father and mother had both voyaged to other planets in other solar systems, but I hadn’t been attracted to study temporal physics, until now. Of course, a lot of things changed when my father disappeared.

Whenever I began reading about temporal tunnel transference theory in the past, my mind would feel stretched, squeezed, pulled and drawn through an imaginary galactic passage way. In this instance, the same experience gripped me, but I managed to tolerate it and continued reading onward about the inversion of time sequencing. At that point, my conscious imaging was turned inside out, leaving me floating in a contented and confused nether land of incomprehensibility. Psychic floating was as close to sleep as I thought one could get, but my disembodied intellect managed to connect this numbing exposition with the mundane knowledge that I had learned as a child. The anti-gravity trance creates a time tunnel that shortens one’s journey through space proportionate to the depth of the trance. Pondering the intricacies put me under.

My next recollection was of being in a meeting with Plack in a dream. Sitting in a soft billowing cloud-like chair, I felt a slight pressure on the top of my head. My legs and arms were available, but not doing much. A pounding heart opened my eyes wide to behold Plack standing in front of me gesticulating frantically and probably shouting something as his face contorted and his mouth rhythmically opened and closed.
“There’s a earthquake, we must leave the building” the thought penetrated my awareness. Things appear in dreams, but I can’t say that I’ve heard anything in a dream, that is, not a dream generated sound. With that in mind, I realized how to put into words what I already knew about everything I’d “seen” or “heard” in a dream. Probably every sight or sound in a dream is only as clear as our experience in the waking state.
Something told me the glass in the dream window was oscillating. Did Plack tell me that? I wondered. That idea didn’t make sense, then I was aware of an undulating wall surface not far from where I sat. My heart jumped in fright and I was out of the chair. I’d been through dreams, where I would let catastrophes happen to my dream self, because, after all it was just a dream experience. But after numerous terrifying dream scenarios of debilitating falls, flames and fixes, where I experimented with being either passively or actively engaged, I resolved to made concerted efforts to avoid injuries and calamities.

In true earthquake fashion, my dream form was thrown against the wall. My reflexes had prepared my shoulder for the impact, but not for the bounce off the wall to the floor. My legs were obviously not ready for the sudden change of direction. The guard was also knocked about, so I didn’t feel so inept. First he hit the door, then crashed forward toward me. We barely missed each other on our way to the floor again.

The room continued to shimmy and shake for what seemed a frighteningly long time, but was in all probability less than a minute or so. Even though in the waking world, we had been experiencing quakes on a regular basis, this nightmare was considerably more violent than any I’d experienced in the waking state.
When the shaking stopped, Plack’s face contorted, and his blurry mouth opened big again, as the thought “Quick, let’s get out of the building, before the aftershocks,” prompted me to follow him and his guard through the doorway.

As we hurried our bruised and pained bodies into the hallway, our paths converged with many other people who had the same idea, to get out of the structure, before it fell on our heads. Galana, my heartthrob of lifetimes, was among them. I could see her bright red hair, in a group of black and white smudges rushing along ahead of me. I didn’t shout out to her, I knew a strong thought worked better in a dream. Too bad it didn’t work so well in the waking state. I didn’t enjoy shouting, unless it was absolutely necessary. She caught my thought, and turned her sweet face toward me. My heart soared, until it registered her fear. She appeared to want to wait or turn back for me, but in sharp contrast to my feelings for her, were my feelings for Durf, Plack’s son, who was next to her in the surging crowd. He turned around also, took her at the armpit, almost lifting her up.  Then the emotional focus of my attention disappeared into the swirling chiaroscuro crowd, red hair and all. Often times, in a dream, I can sometimes consciously replay the action back and forth, change the outcome, stop and review the possibilities. Yet in other dreams, I become the helpless observer, merely called upon to master my emotional responses, learn what I can and wonder what it all means. This time my impulse and choice was to follow them. Perhaps I’d have a chance to workout a different outcome later.

Now wait a minute, I thought, she was the helpless one in my dream, not I. This was my dream. But no, the surging panicky group would not let me stand and ponder the dream lawfulness of what was happening. As my consciousness was carried along in the crowd, her woebegone, helpless look haunted my powerlessness.

The situation was devastating my will power. I had to overcome this temporary weakness, even if I had to wake up. But wait, this might be one of those prophetic dreams, and maybe that’s why I couldn’t change it, at least in the dream. In real life, if I know what’s coming, I may be able to do something about the outcome.

Durf had always been after her. To compete with him, the biggest, strongest, meanest guy my age, was a daunting task, even in a dream.
Even though all injuries in a dream were dream injuries, still any emotional scars could create problems in the waking world. And sometimes a persistent problem in the world just pointed to a karmic problem, something carried over from another life.

I knew I had a mutual affinity with Galana that was a force to be reckoned with. Even the dream pain in my hip and shoulder from hitting the wall, and a twisted knee, didn’t stop me from hobbling along after them as best I could.

Keeping my balance amidst the panicked crowd was challenging. Several times, I was nearly pushed off my feet, by those behind or ahead of me. I quickly learned how to use the congested mass of moving bodies surrounding me, to prevent myself from being thrown to the marble floor and trampled. After much uncertainty, fear, and frustration, the homogenous throng eventually reached the plaza outdoors, where they converged with others, and then fanned out toward several exits, everyone trying desperately to get clear of the tall building columns from fear that they would soon crumble and fall on them.

A tall marble stature of Meghnad the Great, the empath turned emperor, had already been shaken off its pedestal, and crashed to the marble surface below. The huge pile of rubble formed a barrier that everyone circumvented on their way through the plaza. The head of the stature, miraculously still in one piece, rested on its neck atop its fragmented body. A crack ran down the bust, through the center of the forehead, past the nose and through the natural smile that Meghnad was famous for. As if feeling guilty that it was still in one piece, after its torso had been destroyed, the head suddenly split, the two halves tumbling down opposite sides of the debris heap.

I caught another glimpse of Galana’s red head, before she was swallowed up again by the bustling horde as it made it’s way through the last archway.

I abruptly sat up awake in bed, my light shirt clung to my sweaty chest and back. My disaster dream and accompanying helplessness to reach Galana still persisted in my mind, waiting for a resolution, and left me hoping for a miraculous climax.

I do believe that I clearly understand the concept of reincarnation. I would, of course, be the last person to attempt to convince anyone of its validity.
It does, however, in some ways, pose a romantic, poetic, even dreamlike quality to the nature of reality.
What, you might ask, actually reincarnates.
The answer to that question, is usually answered at the risk of stepping on the metaphysical sensitivities of avowed anti-religionists. Reincarnation in my view, is more of a spiritual concept, literally.
If what I understand is true, we are all spiritual beings, non-corporeal entities of light and energy. Being of that nature, our existence and identity would not depend on a physical body, and mind that disappears after a lifetime of lessons, relentless efforts to learn from our mistakes and a variety of repetitive experiences meant to teach us something.
There are two ways you can look at this. One is it’s either poppycock, or it’s absolutely true. What else would make sense?
Then on the other hand, we could ask, what if?
What if we were beings of light and energy, occupying one body after the other. What if, we were progressively learning from our experiences, and more and more growing in wisdom and serviceful inclination, until all our selfish and dark inclinations had been vanquished forevermore. Then, according to spiritual teachings,  we would be eternally reunited with our absolute creator and source. As paraphrased from Revelation 3:12 “…we will go more out…”

A reincarnational view of life would help us to let go of the sadness for the loss of our loved ones. We could then live with peace of mind knowing that the souls of our friends and family have literally moved on into greener pastures, greater possibility and happiness, and will one day be afforded new opportunities to live fulfilling lives.