Dreaming of God on High

Having cleft Her way through the mass of sound issuing from the clashing and dashing of the prana in the midst of the sushumna, She rises to that brilliant energy which glitters with the luster of ten million lightning flashes.
---Sharada-tilaka referring to the Kundalini

It is one of those dreams I am not in. There is a formal announcement first. How unusual for a dream! "The following meeting did not actually take place," someone states. Why the announcement? Was this a mind movie shown for my pleasure?

The setting is dark and foggy. The dreams mood is like the old detective movies. The characters are large men who wear coats like Dick Tracy and that period look of detective hats to match. These men are taller and larger than most with very broad shoulders. The damp and foggy streets seem deserted except for them.

Two men walk to meet up with another two men who seem very similar. They are all larger than most people and dress alike. They are angels who refer to themselves as "Vectors." The Vectors walk down the seemingly deserted streets together to a four-story building that seems almost empty. The one exception is the old woman that wanders the rooftop incessantly speaking in tones that seem like babbling. A light shines faintly from the corner of the building that the Vectors gather and speak under.

"If we are the Angels, then where is God?" one of the Vectors asks of the others. Suddenly the woman at the top of the building clearly speaks for the first time. "If you were up at this level, I would just let you in," she simply states. They stare up at her in sudden realization with their mouths gaping open. She returns to her speaking of all the things we cannot understand.

***

Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth EditionCopyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
vec·tor ( P ) Pronunciation Key (vktr)n.
Mathematics.
A quantity, such as velocity, completely specified by a magnitude and a direction.
A one-dimensional array.
An element of a vector space.
Pathology. An organism, such as a mosquito or tick, that carries disease-causing microorganisms from one host to another.
Genetics. A bacteriophage, plasmid, or other agent that transfers genetic material from one cell to another.
A force or influence.
A course or direction, as of an airplane. tr.v. vec·tored, vec·tor·ing, vec·tors
To guide (a pilot or aircraft, for example) by means of radio communication according to vectors.

Repetition and Response In Dreams and Waking States

I cannot write of him without remembering the accident: a brutal car crash in the summer of 1971, from which it took him something on the order of a year to recover. In A Voice at the Borders of Silence, he speaks movingly of this time. He emerged from that period a different man: physically different, as his face had been reassembled and now, oddly handsome, was no longer the same; spiritually different in ways that can hardly be expressed, though his friend Soen Nakagawa Roshi told him that one accident is worth a thousand meditations.
---Except from Parabola Summer 2004, Sagal-san by Roger Lipsey

Opportunity. It comes in so many ways. Some things only happen once, and we are thankful for that or we wish they would occur again and we could have the opportunity to perform better. Other events happen again and again, and we have an opportunity to try to get it "right" over and over again. We learn. Some events can be anticipated and trained for. Sometimes we train for things that never happen or find ourselves practicing because something has already occurred.

I read about women training to deal with attacks. They had been attacked before in a variety of ways or want to be prepared in case it does ever happen to them. Each story is different. One woman even had an "ex" that is being released from prison and vows to kill her. After learning several defense routines, the instructor informs the students they are going to meet their attacker: a man dressed in protective gear that reenacts their fears and gives them a chance to try their stuff. The instructor warns them that they will feel fear simply at seeing the attacker.

The man arrives from the back of the school completely garbed in protective gear. He is wearing a helmet, pads all over his body, a neck protector and a screen over his face mask to protect his eyes. He represents the faceless man waiting in the dark alley they all wonder if they will ever meet and some have nightmares about. The students are surprised at their fear by just seeing this man… A black belt who is not only at the class to attack them, but in the class to help them. "Don’t cower away!" the teacher yells at them. Face your attacker! Don’t let him see that you are afraid! Stop cowering!"

One by one they all face their attacker and friend. He acts out their scenarios they had "failed" at before and new ones as dictated by their teacher. This is another chance, or one more of many opportunities to face and defeat their attackers in the safety of a class. It is a building of their confidence. They learn by actually getting to fight that they can really respond successfully to these situations. One woman acts out a rape scene that had happened to her again and again. This time it is different as she fights back and "wins." The woman writing the account of the class succeeds at not only disabling the attacker with a well placed and devastating hit but continues to hit the padded man while her instructor furiously blows the whistle to stop. Despite the "game over" signaling, the student drops a killer kick to the attacker’s neck, "crushing his throat." This does not actually injure the man at all, who is dressed for such possibilities, but this violent action shocks her. She learns something about herself that she never before realizes. The student writes:

"If I had been truly fearless, I wouldn’t have landed that final, unneeded blow… Protecting myself, I will hurt others. Learning to fight correctly has given me not only control, but the security needed to fight only as much as necessary and no more. This is true warrior mind."
---from the article in Tricycle, Fall 1993, Warrior Mind by Sallie Tisdale

We all learn from getting hit in the ring. Some of the people who strike us even are our dearest friends. This chance to practice something over and over again is an opportunity. We learn about others and ourselves at the same time. A lot of learning occurs in the ring. I have this discussion with a woman who became a black belt but then felt it is violent to be in the ring and actually hit others. One ex-boxer says his sport is violent and he cannot actually hit someone unless they make him angry. "Why should I hit him when he has done nothing to me?" He left boxing since he got tired of getting beat up. If they would only steal the hat his Mom made for him, he could probably beat them all. For some reason, I am able to take a strike with great compassion. I even smile just before getting a good hit at Mike, although I could never really hurt Mike. I normally do not get a chance to hit him and he really should start getting suspicious when I smile.

We often get caught in the recurring patterns in our lives. Some of them do not seem so bad. Others of them are "alright," which means they work, but they are not the ideal responses. One time, I almost won against Mike. It is in our rarer moments with grappling which I am good at for some unknown reason. I suddenly realize that there is a way to "get" Mike and I spring on him. I start pushing his chest down to the ground. As quickly as I see the opening and attack, my teacher jumps into the ring and starts picking me up by the scruff of my uniform neck. "You can’t muscle Mike! HE IS THREE TIMES YOUR SIZE!" my instructor yells. I continue to push Mike while I am pulled in the opposite direction by my instructor. "OK!" I yell back trying to get rid of him. My body is floating up into the air inside the harness of my uniform against my wishes. I grab Mike again and grab my instructor by the uniform too. I am still floating by my uniform being too light when I am trying to be heavy. My instructor pulls on me harder. Mike is giggling on the floor and not really fighting anymore since a lot of the pressure is off. His soft laughter is a strange and funny contrast to his amazing strength. "TOO MANY PEOPLE IN THE RING!" I cry out from my losing battle. "ONE AT A TIME!" I add. "Iron Filings" Mike is much larger than me and both he and my instructor have a lot more advanced training than I do. My instructor tosses me out of the ring. I am really surprised he lets me stay in as long as all that, but I am a very sincere person.

I want my chance to go back in and get Mike back "right where I had him." "You are not listening to me," my teacher says as he stands between Mike and I, "You cannot fight Mike head on." I must have had that dog look from the cartoon entitled, "What Dogs Hear." (Apparently it is an intelligible "bark, bark, bark," whenever you speak.) I look over at Mike still on the floor lying on his side with his head propped up on one arm, still broadly smiling. "You are going to do the same thing again…" my instructor adds, eyeing me with great suspicion. "You have to learn not to muscle everything. You are actually a small person in a world of much larger men. Even if someone is not larger and stronger than you, some day you will be older. You could get hurt as you age is you do not learn the more subtle ways," the instructor reasons with me. I know this is true but I really felt I had Mike right at that moment when I was interrupted.. Me fighting Mike is like a small Toyota trying to get a Mac truck. I would have to surprise and bash him ten times really well for him to notice it. When he taps me, often my feet go right off the floor and he sends me on a small journey. But I only comprehend what my instructor is saying to my point own point of experience. Honestly, I thought that by the time I was 80, I would possibly start aging and the subtle ways would come naturally over this time. I was not worrying about them when I could squat press 350 while speaking about quantum physics in an easy voice with my friends. People used to stare at me and ask questions like, "What do you eat???"

Our fears, nightmares, and difficult times that happen in our lives can pop us out of these repeating patterns into a different type of realization. I did win against Mike once in the ring. I won by one point in sparring that I barely squeaked in. Everyone responded with shocked surprise showing on their faces and not a sound was made. Myself, I could not believe it. No one said anything, but we all looked glazed. "How did I do this?" I wondered to myself. I had been ill and it was my first return to the ring finding myself surprised to be facing Mike already. I was so happy that I came back so quickly, since my illness had been extreme. I was told, at the time, that I would never get better but I did. My surprise is so great at the ring event outcome, it takes me awhile to get to sleep that night after the fight. It is so wonderful to get back and find everything as I left it or, impossibly even better. This surprise probably would have lasted for days if I did not receive a great distraction from it. The very next day my car accident occurred, where I am struck by a much larger vehicle… a truck... something much bigger than Mike, running a red light. Now I have the rest of my life to work on subtle ways, since I have injuries. I am a bit younger than 80 too. How well I do is up to my response now and resolving that great puzzle of how to respond.

Sometimes we get to see and practice our responses in the light of a different realm. We can see our patterns in a movie. We can break out of them in an inspiration in a way they can occur in a dream or special moment. Once in astral, I thought I was being attacked. I see a little yellow fuzzy thing. It tries to get near me. I avoid it hard but not so efficiently that I leave the area. In my panic I do not just change locations. Instead, I try to bob and weave like I do in the physical realm. The fuzzy thing has skinny little arms and legs that are insignificant to its bright fuzziness. The thing's finger extends and I back away from it. The finger manages to touch my side and I cringe with the full panic and agony of defeat. "You have cancer," it says as it touches me. In my distress, I think it had given me cancer! Suddenly I am in a car and the little yellow fuzzy guy is driving through the sky at a frantic pace. I am in the back with this biker dude skeleton that is staring, concentrating straight ahead. We are in an old Chevy. The yellow thing is driving like our lives depend on it and the skeleton only looks straight ahead without responding to any distractions with so much as a flinch. I start yelling, "OUT! OUT! OUT!" and as I do this I whack the biker skeleton guy with baby toys. He does not even notice, simply keeping his eyes on the road. I wake up horribly distressed from the events of the dream. Although, the dream does not repeat itself, I have my response starting in my waking life.

As events unfold I realize that I already may already have cancer and I was responding to this information in a distressful way, making it seem like an attack. The true information is not gracefully received by me. That is all it is. Information that brings out my deep seated fear of cancer. These dream creatures are actually trying to help me. I can get away but I have to move quickly! I respond differently than my original blind panic and distress, allowing me to take positive action. My cancer is discovered very early and successfully removed. It is actually caught early enough that no chemotherapy is necessary. It is one, small "bad spot," in my physician's words. I successfully pass my next two lab exams which means that I am now free. The important point in this event is that the only factor making it an attack is MY response and MY attack! It is all fear on my side and nothing but kindness and well wishes from a scary and skeletal looking biker dude and a little yellow fuzzy ogre who is practicing Ghandi's Lower Body Workout on VHS tape a little too much. Frightening.

We all have our enemies and some of them we create all by ourselves. Some would say we create all of our own enemies. Some of these are the patterns we are stuck in because of our ways of thinking. We avoid facing our fears and find them knocking on our doors in a completely different form than what we expect. There are fears that have never even occurred to us yet in a way that we can see them. They have been in the background evolving under the bed in that secret place that only the shadow knows. They can seep into our dreams over and over again.

A repetitive dream means that our Mind, (whether you use this term as what comes from your own brain, or the larger definition of Mind) is working on a problem and trying to solve or resolve it. We have opportunities to respond over and over again and see in the mirror of our mind what the possibilities are. These repetitions may even be within the patterns of our waking lives. There are times when we look in the mind mirror and see our best friend and our worst enemy and know how close we are to being both. We can try different ideas in our dreams and solve this repetitive puzzle. In your dream you can ask questions. I would recommend taking the leap and do something unexpected in a nightmare, even if you say it is only a dream. Defeat a hungry monster by cooking him a nice dinner. Buy that angry snake headed woman a nice hat. Surround that dark shadow in the murderous dark alley with a warm glowing light. And if one day you are trying to help someone out and they whack you "really good" with a ducky, tell them Evonne sent you.

***

Addendum:

It was pointed out to me that I may not have not made a clear point. I am not sure if I have an ability to make the clear point on this matter, but here is my try.

The reason why the women practice the attack is to change the energy of their response in an actual situation. They will no longer look like a victim when or if this difficult time comes. Sometimes a battle never occurs between two people because the one assumed to be the victim gives the strong look or vibration at the crucial moment. Suddenly they become, "too much trouble." There is no longer a situation simply because someone was now confident and had the strength to walk away. This person may never have to actually fight. That is why they are instructed not to shrink away from their attacker and to face them, at least in my view.

In our waking lives, we also have situations that can be difficult to deal with. What we learn can be applied to these situations for a very positive response. Our dreaming life also shows us this energy in some way. In the dreaming sequences, one can become stuck. I remember a waiter telling me he runs and runs and never actually makes it to the table, for instance. The fear and anger energy gets carried away, since it is a difficult cycle to stop once it starts. Although I still have problems sometimes, I find if I can change the energy I have, the whole energy of the dream then changes too. This happens even when I resolve the dream in my waking state. That is why we cook a hungry monster a nice meal in my dream. Or I may wake up and say to myself, "I should have talked to that lady after dropping the toaster on her head to say I am sorry and help her." In the next dream I usually perform better.

Dreams can become lucid, where we can exercise more control and even be aware that we are dreaming. There is another step after this one too. My teacher notes that lucid dreaming is a tool for implementation of soul travel. There are Portents in every lucid dream to utilize allowing us to exit outside the dream for astral traveling. I believe the positive action in a dream allows this by accessing a higher energy vibration.

Rocket-Bye Baby

(Sung to Rock-A-Bye Baby)

Rocket-bye baby,
Beyond the sky top,
When the wind blows,
The cradle should dock.

When the bow shakes,
The vehicle may stall,
But Scotty* will fix it,
Cradle and all.

*Mommy, Daddy, Grammy acceptable substitutions.

Mt. Analogue by René Daumal: What Are We Doing Here?

"You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: what is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art to conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can still at least know."
---René Daumal, Mt. Analogue


I was reading Mt. Analogue. It is a tale about finding and climbing a mountain that the world cannot see and therefore cannot find. The climbers manage to find the mountain by ship, knowing in their hearts that it exists. They find the mysterious mountain and are greeted by the people there and handed currency for their trip. Of course they wonder what the exchange is for the currency and how everyone knew they were coming. They must find the diamond like jewel in the mountains, that is the only real currency there. It exists no where else. There are many rules for climbing the mountain. Some reach a certain spot and settle there. Others are driven to go on.

The mountain must be ascended and also descended. It is a very personal journey, with no one man having the same experience or way as the other. They climb as a team and think of others as they do so. In going up the climbers leave marks to find their way down, or some sign they have been there. This is for retracing their own footsteps and also for others. In coming back down, it is important to move the marks from some of the more dangerous passes so as not to mislead others into making the same errors.

Writing and communicating with others is one of the ways we can mark this trail for others and others leave a safe path for us. Sure we will fall, tumble, and we will also climb and succeed. It is all here somewhere, where ever your here may be. Perhaps our path will show for others even when we are gone and in a different place.




"You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: what is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art to conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can still at least know."
---René Daumal, Mt. Analogue

Movie Review -- The Making of Everest

"We commenced plugging up in foot deep steps with a thin wind crust on top and precious little belay for the ice-axe. It was altogether most unsatisfactory and whenever I felt feelings of fear regarding it I'd say to
myself: 'Forget it! This is Everest and you've got to take a few risks.'"
— Edmund Hillary, the first person to ever reach the summit of Mount Everest.

I watched the film "The Making of Everest" this weekend. Unfortunately, I have not seen the IMAX film, EVEREST. I hear it is wonderful and it is a great way to "see" the mountain. This documentary film covers the difficulty of mountain climbing with the additional burden of the IMAX camera as well as what they call "being on location at the death zone." Imagine the difficulty of climbing Everest with the IMAX camera that weighs 42 pounds! The film yields 90 seconds of footage for 10 pounds!

The film was being done during a very difficult time. It is referred to as the deadliest single tragedy in the mountain's history. It was Scott Fisher's last climb. Many other people who were well known climbers died on the mountain during this catastrophe. The death toll totaled 8. There were two additional climbers who also got caught in severe weather and were thought to be dead. They were both rescued in an impossible mission that became possible by the amazing people who took part in it. That is what this documentary is all about. The film crew bravely took part in the rescue.

One very brave man, Nepalese Army helicopter pilot Madan K.C., made a helicopter landing and take-off no one had ever done before to get these two people off the mountain and to medical attention. He landed in very high winds and took off by plunging the helicopter over the edge and getting some lift from there. There were two people requiring emergency attention and the helicopter pilot could only take one person with him. The first climber, Beck, gave up his place to the other injured man. Both climbers were critically injured and because of their medical state and the weather conditions, they were at that place of life or death. Beck speaks tearfully on the film about his experience. He said that he never thought the helicopter would be able to return. Beck adds that during such times when we are all on the mountain working together during a difficult situation, "it is important to know that you have acted correctly." This was how he arrived at his decision.

I think Beck Weathers acted with great love and although he tells the story with tears in his eyes, I think he probably had enough detachment to see his decision clearly. I cannot see detachment as being without the passion that makes so many impossibilities attemptable. The helicopter returned for Beck making another very dangerous landing and take off successfully, saving his life.

Beck Weathers lost half his right arm, fingers and thumb on his left hand and his nose from frostbite. The details are in Jon Krakauer's book, "Into Thin Air." '

In this film, Beck Weathers is shown from the shoulders up. I could see that he either had his nose reconstructed or he had a very good prosthesis made. There was just a subtlety about the lighting that made me suspect so. They did not mention his personal losses of his fingers and part of his arm nor did they hint at this by ever showing his arm. In any case, I see a story like this one and I know I am not detached to the point that some other people are. I am not sure if it is death that I worry about so much as increasing my suffering in this life. Sometimes I wonder if it does not take as much bravery for some people to remain here in acceptance as it did to come to this world in the first place. Death does always move me to crying and I could have easily cried with Beck when he told his story. Could I be such a brave person as any one of the heroes in this story? Frankly, I am glad when I am not pushed to this edge. I suddenly felt very thankful for the privilege allowing me to sit comfortably in the living room and eat ice cream. That is about the height of my willingness to expose myself to cold.

If we decide to work on something, it will work on us right back. Isn't that the way it really is? These people went out to conquer the mountain and were faced with what might be the greatest challenge of their lives. Their performance meant their lives. We can't decide to work on patience, detachment, and love alone in our cave eating goodies. We must be out in the world where strange people kick our bumpers for what seems like no reason at all and cut us off in traffic. Sometimes there is suddenly challenging weather and we discover we have to work with the mountain. (Some climbers mentioned that they see themselves as working with the mountain rather than conquering it.) It always happens on the very day we found ourselves the most comfortable or just when we decided we are not going to swear anymore too. The pitcher likes to throw curve balls after he has lead you to believe that you know exactly how to hit the ball every time. It keeps the game interesting. I like to also believe that even the people who lost their lives won somehow.

Almost all religious and mystical traditions, East and West, ultimately see the goal of spiritual practice as some kind of vertical liftoff, out of this world into either a transcendent beyond, a heaven, or final cessation in nirvana. Sri Aurobindo had the audacity to say that this view was a mistake. A big mistake. He even had the chutzpah to say it was a mistake made by Shankara and the Buddha.

---from What is Enlightenment? The Future of God Spring/Summer 2002.

Sri Aurobindo puts God and the evolving universe together in his great vision. My view from the little spot where I am trying to see the mountain is that Nirvana and the world are very complimentary and not separate. I would not dare to think nor say that someone is wrong in their belief. It is just that my personal vibration makes me believe that if life is an illusion, there is some very real energy behind it. That is important. My experience is that it is important to be in this world and accept it just as we accept our experiences on the other side... That is why we should do our best to make it as nice as possible and do what we can for others and even go beyond what appears to be possible. Everyone has their place in the great puzzle here and we only need to make sure we do our part so that they have the opportunity to fit it and depart at the proper time in the best of circumstances.

I recommend this documentary to anyone who is looking at great challenges in life. It is a wonderful inspiration and speaks to the greatness that is possible within us and the great sacrifices we may be asked to make. The interview with Beck Weathers is wonderful and, I would say, touching.

Touring Graceland With the Brother of Naked Art

This post is also referred to as "Never vacation with my brother." He goes "performance artist" on you when you least expect it.

Caution: May be offensive to those who live in trailers... :-0 and is a departure from our normal (relatively speaking) content.

______________________________

Did I ever tell you the story about how I was asked to leave the Graceland tour?

When we made our road trip to South Carolina, we made a stop in Tennessee (among others). We had been talking about redecorating the bathroom when we saw the sign for tours of the Graceland Mansion. I told M. about how Elvis died in the upstairs Master Bathroom and that maybe we can get a few ideas from the bathroom where "The King" died.

We go on the tour and it is very nice. There are some side stories whereby I contemplate whether mobile home culture is based on Elvis' house or whether Elvis' house is based on mobile home culture. It is tasteless although expensive. Imagine someone that has only ever know trailer parks who then wins the lottery. What house would they build? That's what Graceland looks like.

Finally we are on the upstairs and we are nearly done with the upstairs and I notice that we have not seen the bathroom. I politely ask where the upstairs bathroom is, so that we might see. They tell me that it is closed to the public. I explain it was the only thing I came here to see because we are planning to redecorate the bathroom. They tell me still, no. I ask if there are any pictures of the bathroom in the gift shop. They tell me again, no. At this point I am a little frustrated and start going on a paranoid rant about why do they want to treat the shitter where the King blew out his last load like its a state secret. I just want to redecorate my bathroom in reverence to the King. They make me leave. I yell that the people shall not be suppressed, we have the right to know what Elvis' bathroom looked like. They make me wait in the lobby with two obese security guards as I shout "Attica, Attica." M. was a little angry at me, but I tried to explain this is all part of that American Freedom of Speech thing. She was more gullible back then.

On the way out of town, we went to the Burger King where Elvis used to eat, they have pictures of every time Elvis or one of his cars came to that Burger King.

Remodeling one's bathroom is a very serious matter. Woe betide any who would dare stand in the way of a man's Water Closet Destiny.

----Brother of Naked Art

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Any updates on the statue of Elvis' Graceland's Master Bathroom would be greatly appreciated. Meanwhile, for those of you who want the Bathroom Remodeling idea that is giving new meaning to "going online," just click the link!