Dream interpretation: life as a dream: supernatural symbols and metaphors

excerpted from OM, baby! a pilgrimage to the eternal self, by Jack Haas 

                     

          

            All is reflected through all. However, because of our singular vantage point within the infinite multiplicity of happenings, it is hard to perceive that we are the all in all, as much as anything else, all parts of which are only one thing. Rarely do we see the greater event, which we call the world, as a manifestation of our greater selves.

        melancholy of departure, Georges de Chirico, surrealism, painting    Another symbolic experience occurred, around the same time in my life, when I was planning to leave the remote southern area of the Queen Charlotte Islands, which are off the west coast of Canada- where I had been staying with a friend for over a month, during which time we had begun to quarrel and our brotherhood had turned sour, which caused me immense melancholy. The day before I was to leave I opened a book, which I had been carrying with me, on Dadaist art, and there, on the page I happened to turn to, was a painting by Giorgio de Chirico, titled Melancholy of Departure. The painting was comprised of a somewhat tangled factory or city scene (I was returning to the city), and an almost exact topographical sketch of the southern Queen Charlotte Islands. The likeness was inexplicable, and it was bewildering to see how perfect that spiritual mirror and symbology of my current life were presented to me.

 

Many times in my life such pieces of the puzzle would come flying out at me to make obvious my union with the whole, for all is reflected in all.

            I wonder now if my entire life has been a project in which the macrosoul has been attempting to corral me into the places, experiences, and understandings which would help lead me to wholeness. Perhaps this is the reason why, as a youth, I would wake up almost every morning at exactly 7:37 a.m., like clockwork, as they say. Back then I found this extremely odd, and only later in life, as I was slowly accepting that the universe is a conscious universe, did I discover that the number 37 is the mystical number for the absolute union of spirit and soul. Wholeness.

           

Perhaps this macrocosmic intent is also why I had an experience, in my early thirties, while leaving Jerusalem, where I had gone for about a week while following the spirit of Christ. Not knowing what was to come next for me, I pronounced, as I was leaving, “Thy Will be done” with as much intent as ever I had before, and boarded the plane. Interestingly enough the in-flight entertainment on the plane was a British television show starring a younger version of my anima who was named Clarissa (clear Issa: Issa is the eastern name for Christ). This may seem like a wholly unprofound happening to the reader, but then it was my anima who was giving me the message, and the message was clear. For soon after that flight I was to become involved in a wild community within which were some very Christ-like women.

            On another flight, this time off of the Big Island of Hawaii, which is the geophysical embodiment of the Mother, a man who was my father’s spiritual archetype ended up sitting right behind me, which, if you know anything of such circumstances, is no mere coincidence, as if anything ever is. I was leaving the Mother and moving towards the Father.

Just prior to that flight I had been living on the Big Island of Hawaii and had no intentions of leaving. Then I had a dream in which I was shown a pair of green rain pants. I could not understand the dream until I felt compelled to leave Hawaii, the Mother, and flew back to Vancouver where I met with a good buddy of mine, who, at that time, was thoroughly united with the Father, and who was wearing the very pants I had dreamt about. Maddeningly enough this same buddy of mine was planning to visit me a month earlier in Hawaii, but backed out for various reasons. However, he and I were spiritual peers and our meeting was obviously necessary enough to have me called out of paradise and flown back to the rainy west-coast winter.

Then there was the time I dreamt of having my 7th tooth from the centre pulled out, and I had no idea what the dream meant. Not until a while later, when I picked up my harmonica and began playing it, and soon noticed that hole number 7 was no longer working. Something in me was ‘out of tune’ at that point.

            This is similar to the time when I was learning to play the recorder, and I could not make any clear notes come out of the lower three of the seven holes. Not, at least, until I visited Hawaii for the first time, and, arriving on the Big Island, had the lower three of my seven main chakras stimulated and soon after could make perfect music come out of the lower notes of the recorder.[1]

            Not long after that I was given the present of a hand-made, Hawaiian bamboo-flute, which, oddly enough, and without the craftsman’s intent, had the 7 holes of the flute laid out in a way astonishingly similar to the pattern of the Hawaiian islands themselves.

            It seems to me that music must be an easy target for the muse of the spirit, since I can remember as far back as my early twenties, when I had purchased a copy of a Midnight Oil album which had on it the song Bed’s are Burning, and that same night two futons were set ablaze accidentally in our apartment when my roommate’s cigarette fell from his sleeping hand.

            The internal is the external, and the external the in.

            One of the ways this has become drastically obvious to me is through automobiles, for the vehicles in which people drive often reflect the nature of what is going on with them at the time.

            For example, at a time when I was trying to find my voice in the world, I had a van in which the horn did not work.

            I also know of a woman who, at a time in her life when she was very run down and often exhausted of energy, went through three alternators in less than a year.

            Another woman friend, who developed a hard-to-diagnose yet chronic disease, had a vehicle which had an electric ‘short’ which mechanics were unable to find for almost five years. She was ‘shorting out’ within herself, and this was reflected in the manifest.

            On a trip into the southwest American desert with my soror, a number of years back, we were heading into the Valley of the Gods, which is a remote, mythical landscape, carved out of the fleshy rock covering the area. We had intended to drive around a specific loop, and then find a campsite. As I say, we intended to do this, but the spirit had other ideas. Just as we were about to swing around that loop and leave a remote canyon area, one of the tires on our van blew out, and we had to pull over and repair it. A flat tire in the remote desert is an aggravating event, and I was aggravated. However, had we not been forced to stop in the exact spot where we stopped, we would not have later chosen a nearby campsite (instead of driving obliviously past it). And had we not camped in that exact spot, we would not have then been in the perfect perspective to see the gigantic sentinels and castle which exist in the valley, the forms of which are a living reality on the subtle plane, and are manifest in stunning, megalithic rock sculpture on this material plane. We had been detained so that we would not miss out on the reason we had been guided there in the first place. As always, everything was as it should be.

            In much less dramatic fashion, I learned a lesson about the intimacy of persons and vehicles at one point in my life when I was overly cognitive and contemplative, and had thoroughly abandoned the use of my feelings, instincts, and intuitions.

            Fortunately I had purchased a small car in which the speedometer was not functioning. I say fortunately because although this was a very frustrating problem, as I never had any idea on how fast I was going, I soon learned to not need the conceptual boxes of thought and numbers, but instead to feel the speed at which I was going, which was a lesson in how not to gauge my life, but rather to live it.

            I became so fluid with the vehicle that I rarely glanced at the dashboard- an event which I am always doing in vehicles whose speedometers are working- and yet never received a speeding ticket, for I inwardly knew from the feel of the vehicle the appropriate speed for the road.

            I suppose this was an important lesson for me, because a while later I sold that car in northern Canada, spent some time in the wilderness, and then, before heading south, stayed at a friend’s house for a week or two. It turned out that at that time he had another visitor, and since she was driving south at the time I needed to be heading that way myself, I took a lift with her and ended up behind the wheel for a greater part of the trip.

            On the first day I was back to my old self, always looking at the speedometer- which on her car was working fine- for fear that I was driving too fast, or too slow. I was recognizing my pathetic dependence on the gauges, and thinking that I had not yet crystallized the lesson which was to ‘feel’ all of life, instead of ‘think’ it. But as night came on I was given some after-school tutoring, because when I went to turn the car lights on, I realized that the dashboard light in her car did not work, and so, at night I could not see the speedometer anymore. I was free of the mind again, and back into the feeling of body and flow of intimacy with being. For the mind is what divorces us from the fluid connection with life, and it is only feeling and intuition which rejoins us.

            As a last point on the symbology of vehicles, I would note that often license plates betray a hidden anagram, or message, relevant to the owner of the vehicle at the time.

            For example, a vehicle which my soror and I ended up owning together- at a time when we were starting to merge all opposites, including the light and the dark, and the east and the west- had a license plate which included the number 999, which is a mystical number unto itself, and is also 666 upside down.[2]

            All things are alive and reflective of our inner beings, always.

I have heard that, prior to the sinking of the Titanic, there was a person who wrote a book about a grand cruise ship which sank in the north Atlantic on its first voyage, killing most of the people aboard. In the book the boat was called the Titan.

There are quite a few of these macrocosmic parallels to find, if you open yourself up to finding them.

            All is reflected in all. All is all. It is only for us to learn a more holistic way of seeing.

            At one point in my life I was in Ireland and asking for guidance as to whether I should stay where I was, or move on to Scotland. That night I had a dream in which I was drinking beer that was 5.9% in alcohol, and that was all I could remember upon waking. However, knowing that most Irish beers are around 4%, and that the Scots are intelligent enough to put a little more umph into their liquids, I jumped on a bus and headed north. Upon my arrival in Scotland I walked around curiously looking through liquor shops but could not find any beer that was exactly 5.9% alcohol. No matter. I had to leave the country a few days later, as I received word that a friend back home had been badly injured in an accident. So I returned to North America to see him, where, soon enough, I walked into a store, having forgotten all about my earlier dream, and stumbled right into a case of beer that was exactly 5.9% alcohol. I had come to where the spirit knew I would come, though I had had no clue about this at all.

            God works within us with much greater intention than the hallmarked minutiae of life often betrays. But occasionally we get a glimpse of this incredible, hidden choreography running perfectly throughout the world, and that glimpse is sometimes enough to smash apart our limited conceptions, and expand us into union with the inexplicable all, which includes man-made creations and modern technology.

            In fact, one time I dreamt that I was buying a Cadillac, and awoke without a single idea of what that would mean. Later that day, however, my soror was out and about on the town and was approached by a mad street-person who out of the blue, whimsically declared to her, “God is in town, and he’s buying Cadillacs.” Om, baby!


 

[1] In esoterica, the seven main islands in the Hawaiian archipelago are said to represent the seven main chakras of the body. And, therefore, depending on what island you’re visiting, that chakra in your body will be stimulated. The Big Island represents the root, the lower chakra.

[2] I have recounted, at length, a very unique occurrence with license-plate messages in my book Roots and Wings.

 

excerpted from:

visionary art, acrylic painting, Lilith, Sophia Goddess, author Jack Haas India

 

 

OM, baby! a pilgrimage to the eternal self

by Jack Haas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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