- My expertise at procrastination (Housework? What housework?)
- A comment made below by Writer Mom, which set me thinking, and
- A dream post at ME Strauss's site which got some good answers
Bear in mind too that I have spent a couple of years doing what I accused the reincarnationists of, which is basically staring at the seed catalogues and letting the garden go to pot - I stagnated. I am short of a life path and pretty self-involved about it. An egoistic dreamer and directionless time waster. I confess.
So, in this unhealthy and self involved situation I had a very bizarre dream and am willing to take any interpretations, however unflattering. Just don't pander to my ego and tell me I am wonderful because I will shoot you down in flames; I have to. I have a big enough head as it is and that's how the angels fell; they marveled at their own beauty. Believe me, I am, not so secretly, flaming amazing, so I know how easy that is to do.
I was up on a mountain with a bunch of amused looking and unnervingly hunky Tibetan monks and, a la Indiana Jones and the Grail cup, was asked to choose 'the real prayer bowl'. You know, the one that rings so perfectly that you can travel with the sound, are the sound - the one where time and form and everything break down or are at least traversable. The one that touches eternity and everything in between.
I forget what I chose, but it was in among ridiculously grand items and also plainer wooden ones, and even, for some reason, ornamental pottery chickens. Anyone want to tell me if Tibetan monks really revere, or liken themselves to, domestic chickens? I mean, even sing songs about them?
The secret in my dream is that the bowl is not the bowl; the bowl is really only the gong, the tuning fork, if you like - we are the bowl. We are that which reverberates and that which creates the multilayered, perfect, breathtaking and physically incapacitating tone.
I've never heard or experienced a sound like it and I've had several stabs at meditating and praying in an effort to revisit the dream and hear it again. Marginally addictive, to say the least. That said, there have been periods where I forgot all about it. This was one such time, until Writer Mom's comment.
Argue all you like whether this was a dream (lessons from the subconscious) or a vision (lessons from an external source) - it doesn't matter. What matters, and annoys the hell out of me, is that I (or whoever) tried to tell me something, show me something, and for a brief moment I got it. I still have no idea how it relates to the now, what to do with it, how to unlock it, what I needed to know about myself in practical rather than airy-fairy and self congratulatory terms.
Why tell me there's more tools in my toolkit, then leave me to wake up without the key? Why say 'this is important, but I'm not going to tell you what it is or what it does'?
Sound conceited? Yeah, I thought so too, which is why its taken me a couple of years to mention it. Do by all means bring me back down to earth, I'd be grateful.
All suggestions gratefully received.