Monster Post Alert
Last night, I went to sleep after writing for a good few hours and reading other Temple stuff. I've recently been experimenting with communication through dreams. It had a whole other intent, but unexpectantly threw up this experience, which I want to describe and then use as a springboard for general discussion on working with dreams (Couldn't find any other dream threads save interpretation and stuff, but I could be wrong). I thought the meaning was clear to begin with, but after a bit of thought, I think it may be telling me something different.
Anyway. Here it is. I'm splitting this post into the dream and the resulting thoughts and questions because it's so big:
The world was ending. It was birth into the supercontext a la Invisibles. It was time for us all to move from the physical world into the realisation of everything being the same thing. But instead of us all doing this simulataneously, it was more of a gradual migration. I had to move across, which meant abandoning the physical world.
I understood it to be death, but nothing to be scared of, because death only looks scary from the physical side. I had to pass through an entrance that reminded me a bit of the moving wall scene in the movie "Time Bandits". I knew that we would eventually have to grow beyond the things that were important to us in this world, and that saddened me a bit because I like those things. I asked a guy from my work if he would miss movies (a slightly mentally disabled guy who only ever talked about movies and WWF). He said he really would.
I crossed over. At first I was hanging on the other side of the barrier, where everything was dark, still in my physical body. I had to change to move around. It wasn't so much like abandoning the body, but more like switching its mode. I went up to a different energy level, still looking exactly as I had but resonating at a different pattern. I went from being solid to floaty, able to swoop and soar.
This world was made of floating islands. Just floors and walls, no roofs. Like gutted houses. The houses were like thought imprints of what we had held onto from the physical world. They were filled with boxes with rolled up posters, different sofas, desks and stuff, laid about as if we had just moved in. Everything in this world was thought.
But we hadn't yet made the full jump. This was purgatory, but we were staying there not to burn away sin, but to prepare our minds from the level above, to gently remove our attachment to our physical selves and things. We were waiting there while our minds adjusted.
At some point in the dream, I went to the next level up and came back. I don't remember what it was like, but I knew that it was full experience of God. Not where we realise we are branches on a tree, but where we are the tree.
What I found was that I was able to move between the three planes. I decided to return to the physical world to help the last people make the move. There weren't that many people left, and this plane had become emptier and more like the plane above with every person that moved out. It was like uploading. As people left, they uploaded themselves, their things and their acheivements for conversion on the next plane. Somebody was releasing the last ever videogame in human history (Definate Invisibles hangover here). I could see it’s main character like a 2D cartoon standing in front of me before it faded up a level.
Back in the purgatory, I floated around checking places out. Memory was incredibly visual. Thinking about something brought the image of it straight to my eyes, but things faded fast. I thought about the teddy that I had as a kid. I could see him in front of my eyes but he was blurred and faded. I couldn’t make out the texture of his fur or the scratches on his nose. I found him in a box at my side, amongst the things I had uploaded, and picked him up, letting my fingers rediscover those textures. As I did, the mental image of him filled back out again.
I decided to find where the last Videogame had been uploaded to. After a little searching, I found it. It was in a room that looked exactly like a messy teenager's bedroom. The whole room was complete and unfaded, like it had just been uploaded from the physical realm. I remember thinking I was glad I got to play this in the purgatory because I didn't have to do so in the real, smelly, physical room. The game was a retro one on the Sega Master System with Bruce Lee in it. I thought at the time that there was some meaning to this (I'll be fucked if I know what though).
Back outside, amongst the islands, I was floating around, looking at the island I shared with others, and all it’s roofless, incomplete walls from a top down view.
Somebody was solving puzzles. She was phasing through solid blockages that clogged up corridors, getting to inaccessible points and then making herself more solid. When she did this, she could clear these blockages away simply by walking into them. I think she was clearing up inconsistencies of thought. Hang-ups from our physical days.
Back in a main room, I helped line somebody else’s desk up in the corner of the room as they moved in too. The place still looked just moved into. The room shape was very irregular and lots of different people's stuff was placed all over the floor in boxes. Couches sat in akward places, because we hadn't had the time to find a good location for them amongst all the crap.
I was ready to move on and merge with the level above, but I wanted to help people move in here, to help them acclimatise to the change. I also wanted to experience purgatory (what it meant to be human, but with no barrier between imagination and its manifestation) while it lasted, before we all moved on and a stage of our growth was gone.
I told them about the disappearing memory of the teddy bear. I told them about how actual things would disappear too if left untouched or unthought of for too long. I thought that this was because there was too much information in the universe, and this was a way of conserving it’s “processing power” while also being it's way of gradually weaning us off these things. |
