Flying

                                                           

I’m in a beautiful open space – bright sun, wide ocean, clear sky and green earth. An aeroplane is flying overhead, driven by a father. A mounted camera protrudes from the cockpit over his head. To his right and left a son and daughter, respectively, are perched in little niches on the wings. They too have cameras in place of guns and record my activity on Earth. I think there are other cameras mounted through the body of the plane. It soars, dives and loops through many exhilarating stunts, recording all the time. At the end of my dream a house appears, spectral, reminiscent of my childhood home but larger. Someone is recording there as well. It casts a shadow and dominates the left side of my dream-space.

Having been limited, cramped and confined for so long,  I am at last delivered by my dreams into ‘a beautiful open space’.  The feeling is light and expansive. All the elements are present in a clear and balanced way. Moreover, I am not alone: an aeroplane is flying overhead. This symbolises my potential to move in another, spiritual dimension (that of Air or ‘wind’). A ‘father’ is piloting. This is all the information given by the dream. I don’t know whose father it is or why he should be involved.

There is a ‘son and daughter’ couple present also. Cameras are mounted in places where guns might have been in old-fashioned World War fighter planes. There is a significant element of reclamation implied by this detail. The old is being renewed, as if to facilitate new seeing. It is important also that the plane moves through many different levels, often in spectacular ways.

Before enacting, I go into a meditative state while standing centred on my beach. The physical setting echoes the setting of my dream in an uncanny manner. I can even feel and sense the aeroplane above me. It strikes me as a constant presence, something that has always been around but which I have been unable to notice up to now.

I close my eyes and ‘see’ the pilot figure in the cockpit. He wears a flying jacket, goggles and a hat, all brown. The camera is mounted on an old-fashioned tripod, with legs somehow welded to the body of the plane. I wonder how this can be stable but it certainly appears to be so. It is monitoring and recording all the time, which is clearly a reflection of the pilot’s interest in my journey through the world.

I project my awareness into the role of the pilot, whose perspectives aren’t limited as mine are. He dives and soars through different levels of consciousness. All of these are available to him and can become so, through him, to me. Somehow, he is holding and reflects these potentials for me.

The first impression I receive is of my own father – the physical man who sired me and ‘died’ over twenty years ago. His consciousness is now focused through the pilot figure. I hear the words ‘This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased’ and experience them as a beautiful acknowledgment.

In my Heart I reciprocate this blessing from an aspect of Consciousness that played the part of physical father for me on my current Earth sojourn. I marvel at the poignancy of this arrangement, whereby one who has flown high can express freely in love all that could never have been spoken before. Such are the limitations of our pre-chosen, fore-given roles, with all the pressures of our unresolved human pasts bearing upon them.

This for me is a precious moment of disillusionment, in which the all-pervading reality of love is once more brought home into the depths of my still human, still Earthed being. In this moment I become a vessel and expression of pure love, nothing more. I will this consciousness into form as Earth-based John and experience a very powerful connection that brings healing to my personal past and great hope for my journey into the future. I am reassured that my father on this level takes a benign and constant interest in my life.

This proves to be the opening of a mystery, for other dimensions of ‘Father’ also stand behind my pilot figure. The words acclaiming a beloved son are also spoken by an archetypal father, representing the generative aspect of masculine power, a power that comes to life in me on hearing them. This is another level of blessing and transmission. It allows me to experience imaginatively a reconfiguring of male power and creativity in myself.

This has little to do with a bestowal of outstanding gifts or powers. On the one hand, it seems to entail a stripping away of distorting influences that have accumulated over the course of a difficult, disabling past. It also brings a sense of empowerment and renewed foundation, of commissioning and activation. The power raised is integral and centred. It moves only along essential lines and thus poses no threat to others moving in fulfilment of their proper course.

Finally, the pilot is a reflection of my Self on the highest level at which it may be said ‘I and the Father are One’. This is not the vain proclamation of an inflated ego. Rather it expresses a mystical awareness of Unity beyond individuation from within the flowing stream of the masculine principle of Life. ‘Father’ is an engendering, creative power, loving and protecting beyond all the forms it has assumed on the way to realising its essence and potentials in the world.

This ‘Father’ beyond form, the masculine polarity of Consciousness, is somehow present in the cockpit also, blessing the archetypal ‘Son’ who labours to comprehend his Mystery on Earth. The camera is an expression of Creator’s interest in Creation. It monitors all that has been put into motion the better to fulfil its highest intent. I represent a moment of Consciousness in form, moving in service towards this end.

The son and daughter represent potentials of this movement also, masculine and feminine streams within my soul that may be preparing to manifest on Earth, whether through my currently embodied form or otherwise. Even the plane represents a movement in the ocean of Consciousness, forever creating new perspectives on itself.

Consciousness puts awareness in me as I put it in the plane, so that all may be reminded of One/Source. My Father’s House is hard to comprehend, as are the details of its many mansions. Words fail at this point and so my dream unfolds in feeling pictures. What follows is my Mother’s House. Ghostly, shimmering and larger than life, it hovers as if caught by the Wind, blowing on a veil between dimensions. I stand centred, still and meditative, tuning in to the window of my mother’s upstairs flat.

She stands there grimly monitoring a play that unfolds in the street below. This monitoring has a strong element of attachment, for my mother is still engaged by dramas of our world, unable to soar or dive beyond what the terms of her embodiment permit. Even in the midst of this engagement, she is also concerned for her son’s well-being. There is great love behind the illusion of her separation also.

I call her into my Heart and from there travel through a gate into the Void for renewal, praying that she might see – if her soul is willing – through the eyes of a child, made clean by Source. Then I imagine all her ancestors trailing behind me on the beach. Long histories of wounding and forgetting stream into my tender, open heart. We head back from here through the portal of Creation into a Void of pure potential where all may be made whole and released.

I hold this awareness until I sense that its intent has been fulfilled. My Mother’s House no longer hovers on the threshold. I carry her in my Heart and she sees that no evil has befallen me.

My next dream came two nights later:

I am on a spiritual journey, a pilgrimage, as if to Santiago de Compostella, for example, but I have the impression that I am going the other way. Other pilgrims move on the road before me. It feels important that I should travel as fast as possible, and also that I shouldn’t be recognised. There is still quite a way to go. I am carrying something heavy, like a steel bar stuck in a lump of concrete at one end.

I come to a university/hospital where I know I have to stop. I’m preceded by a group of women, including Una C. I have to drop off something here. The place looks familiar. I’ve given classes and meditations here before. Una and friends turn into the lecture hall I’m heading for. I carry a file on my left shoulder so she won’t see my face.

The hall becomes a large amphitheatre, which is already pretty full. I go up to the right hand side. There’s a male student I know sitting there, beside John Lennon. It seems someone famous is going to speak. I’m afraid that if I’m recognised somebody might think it’s me!

I pass a small package to a student in the centre and leave another with the man high on the right for C. Apparently she’s following. John Lennon winks enthusiastically at me, saying ‘Good on yer mate’.

Some people notice me as I’m leaving. I tell them I’ve got a journey to complete but will be back. I sense a strong energetic transmission coming to me from a lineage that includes Muhammad Ali, Sonny Liston and James J. Braddock.

I feel satisfied I’ve done the right thing. I’ll soon have a rendezvous with C.

My awareness in this dream is very particular: it is a spiritual journey that I’m on. My energies are specifically focused, as if on reaching Santiago de Compostella, but it’s very clear that I’m travelling in the opposite direction, away from whatever terminus such journeys normally head towards. I see other pilgrims on the road before me. Their manner is more casual and their pace slacker. I know that I am in a hurry. I must get where I’m going to as quickly as possible.

It also feels important that I shouldn’t be recognised. The reason for this is that it would entail risks of delay. It could also generate premature expectations in others and perhaps in me. I’ve still got quite a bit of travelling to do and am not ready yet to attempt whatever might eventually be asked of me.

I want this journey to be over because I must carry something heavy for its duration, represented by the steel bar embedded in a lump of concrete at one end. I don’t have the option of simply putting this down. It’s a male symbol, obviously – an image of a dissociated phallus. My task is to bring this back to Source for healing, to the place where all journeys begin. This is why I move in an opposite direction to other pilgrims.

When my journey is complete, I will be able to come forward again and do whatever I must do in this world. For now, however, I must focus on healing a male wound which I carry for the express purpose of having it healed.

I come to a university/hospital, a place of healing and higher learning where I know I have to stop. There is a group of women ahead, including Una C, who knows me. Even though I have things to leave off here, I must still avoid being recognised. I am heading for a particular lecture hall. Una and her friends go there also. I hide my face by carrying a file on my left shoulder.

In addition to serving my purpose of concealment, this tells me that I’m also carrying lots of information on the feminine side of my soul history but I need not to pay attention to this now. This is a time for healing the male side of my being, which is why I head up to the right.

Una C reflects for me a female elder. She is rich in the silver (hair) of intuition. Una means (feminine) Unity or One. C evokes my feminine soul. Una C evokes the unity of my feminine soul, holding its own until it’s time for the next phase of our progressive marriage. I must first prepare for this by securing further healing for my male aspect. It is thus fitting that Una and her companions turn to the left.

I have come to this place because I am charged with dropping something off. The place is familiar, a dreamscape Universe City of Light, where healing occurs as well as education – education into greater wholeness, one might say. I’m still not sure what I’m to leave, for whom or why but, as in Dublin City of Light, my steps are guided and I know from within where I must go.

The lecture hall becomes an amphitheatre: an arena where spectacles unfold. It is very big and already very full. Males are mostly massed on the right and females on the left, with notable mixing in the centre (Heart). I perceive the amphitheatre as a mirror of my soul, still waiting for essential parts to return (to consciousness).

The ‘someone famous’ who is due to speak is me! That’s another reason why I have been feeling unprepared and anxious to avoid recognition. I must first return to Source and have my dissociated phallus repaired. ‘Phallus’ in the alienated context of an Empire State has come to mean something oppressive and illusory. Duly healed and integrated, however, it denotes an authentic creative-generative power of the male-masculine principle of life.

I must experience its healing in me before I can openly address all parts of my soul and, thereafter, whoever might be interested. I need to know wholeness in myself before I can evoke it in others. This is why an inner address must be primary. All parts of my soul are eager to hear from this ‘John’ aspect about details of his current Earth walk.

Some lessons have already been learned though, and these I can leave with appropriate recipients. I send one package through to a student sitting near the centre, a male but in the company of women. Since my soul has composed this dream, I am confident that the part he represents will know what to do.

It’s the same for a man high on the right: the package I give him is specifically for C but can only be delivered at a particular time, when she reaches the right point in her journey. I don’t know any more than this. John Lennon apparently does because when I drop off the package he winks broadly and says ‘Good on yer mate’.

The morning after I had this dream, in a bid to clarify the role John Lennon was playing for me, I put on a CD of his best-known songs. The first up was ‘Imagine’: ‘People say I’m a dreamer/but I’m not the only one …’ The next songs clinch it. John Lennon appears in my dream to transmit a message from my soul: that I need to admit and express vulnerability in order to heal my dissociated phallus.  Warrior energies are available to protect me through this but allowing vulnerability is the key.

I must experience first and then express. This is why I cannot talk for now. There are other parts that must first return to consciousness. I feel justified in my response, therefore, when leaving. Some people call me over but I say that I can’t stop. I have a journey to complete. I also say, however, that I will soon be back. My soul takes this opportunity to commit me to return. I will come back to unite with all these elements of my soul. Then I can be another kind of Teacher.

As I leave, I feel a huge wave of energy carry me on. It comes from a male-warrior lineage in my soul history, represented by Muhammad Ali, Sonny Liston and James J. Braddock. John-consciousness knows little about boxing but my soul knew that I would recognise these figures as former heavyweight champions of the world, each one a man of great courage in his own way. I will need to be brave.

Everything feels alright as I’m leaving. I know that I’ll be meeting up again with C in due time. Flying, my Heart advises, we learn where we fly to.

                                                          *

Having brought healing to my male ancestral line, I receive an empowering transmission from the male (Father/God) principle of life. This gives me renewed faith in authentic male creativity and power. But before this can be expressed appropriately in the world, it needs to be brought again into harmony with the female (Mother/Goddess) principle. Hence the enactment of my first dream ends with a healing of my maternal line. This opens the way for further development.

My next dream advises that I’m on a specifically spiritual journey back to Source, with the aim of healing a long-standing dissociation of the phallus as malformed by institutional patriarchy. This will be accomplished by bringing it back into right relationship with Mother/Goddess. I needed to heal my soul-relationship with my own mother absolutely in order to serve as a clear vessel on this journey.

I carry a dissociated phallus as a symbolic burden on the way. I feel an authentic male warrior energy rising to assist me (lineage of the boxers). It’s not clear why I might need to be courageous but it evidently has to do with admitting vulnerability.

Vulnerable Achilles, Earth-bound and prone to battle frenzy, must take up Michael’s Sword of Light. This is a Christian prototype of Arthur’s Excalibur, which has deeper roots in Celtic and other traditions.

As Merlin’s protégé, Arthur knows all things are made of Light and thus can draw his Sword of Light from stone. Originally a gift of the Goddess, this must be used in service to her and not for personal gain. This also involves rehabilitation of the phallus

In the meantime, all parts of my soul continue gathering in a lecture room-cum- amphitheatre at the University of Light, males to the right, females to the left, waiting for ‘John’ to bring his pattern to completion.

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