Wow.... in rereading this, I can't believe it was over a year ago that I had this dream. I can still remember every detail of it like it just happened last night!
11/1/07
I entitle this dream, In Memory of Trees, inspired by Enya's song The Memory of Trees, a song I was listening to before drifting off to sleep. The title is a strong and appropriate encapsulation of my experience. For a more complete experience with my dream, I recommend putting the song on while you read. This was one of the more profound dreams I had during my time in Belize and was certainly influenced by much of the irresponsible tourism development that I observed there. I'm sure some inspiration came from the following Alex Grey painting as well. This painting viewed in person is astounding to say the least and I recommend anyone in the New York area to go visit Alex Grey's Manhattan gallery, The Chapel of Sacred Mirrors (CoSM). Unfortunately so much of the detail is lost in the representation below.
I'm floating in some lucid astral hyperspace, my vision fixed on a floating O in front of me. A zero? A circle? A hoop? A whole? This image holds deeply simplistic yet sacred significance and symbolism. The O expands… O, and contracts… o before my eyes. It changes colors, then seems to blur behind some cosmic static before re-sharpening into focus again. It then fills in and I recognize that I am looking up at a full moon. I suddenly find myself lying on the ground, arms outstretched, looking up at a magnificent night sky. The Moon shrinks to the size of a star and then streaks across the sky. Amazing! I dig my hands into the ground and pick up large fistfuls of dirt. I rejoice in the purity of the earth falling through my fingers and hold it up allowing the dirt to fall all over me. I consciously marvel at how I KNOW this is a dream, am absolutely sure of it at the very moment, yet I have never felt earth that was so... REAL… so very much real, tangible, and… almost… alive. I stand up and look around me. I am standing in a meadow surrounded by trees on all sides. As far as my eyes can see there are mountains and valleys filled with lush beautiful forest, illuminated by starlight. Standing in the center of the clearing is a tree that somehow seems to radiate a bit brighter than the rest. It is an old and wise tree, pulsing with life-energy. My intuition tells me that I have come to an incredibly sacred place… a sanctuary… a paradise. Could this be what I've heard some mystics and astral travelers refer to as the Afterlife Summerlands? I fall to my knees and cry. Recalling it now brings tears to my eyes again. My tears were tears of joy and humbled reverence. I did not feel worthy of being there, in the presence of such divinity, in the clearing at the end of the path… and yet there I was.
As I collected myself and stood up I noticed off in the distance, in the middle of the forest, a house with a light on. I felt a sick sinking feeling in my stomach. I noticed another house, and then another. As I rotated my view 360 degrees, I became aware of massive condominiums and apartment complexes in every direction. There are trees intermingled with the buildings, but only enough to give the illusion of a forest if all the houses lights were off. But now the house lights were coming on by the hundreds, the thousands even. The beautiful mountain faces and valleys were suddenly covered in human settlements. From afar, the artificial lights and structures looked like a parasitic mold, spreading over the once magical lands. Despite all this, the clearing and the one, holy, radiant tree remained. Then something caught the corner of my eye, I turned to see a spark of fire on one of the mountain slopes off to what felt like the east. Panic. It was spreading. I turned with horror to see the lone tree in the center of the clearing in flames as well. I ran to it and tried to blow out the fire. I tried to use my lucid-dream-will to conjure wind and rain, but nothing came. The fire only spread. I fell to my knees once more. A hard knot of a painful sob choked in my throat. This time the tears that came were of deep sorrow and grief. "I'm sorry", I said to the tree. "I'm so sorry". With the knot still in my throat and tears on my sleepy cheeks I awoke.
This dream raises the question in my mind: Are our sacred spiritual sanctuaries, on other dimensions and levels of being, that were once only accessible to the very few true mystics and sages, in danger of colonization, development, exploitation, and overcrowding, much the same as our earthly paradises are currently experiencing the same serious perils?
...not necessarily a comforting dream, but certainly worth contemplating.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
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