A step into the subconcious and Thomas Merton

I had a dream last night
I have been told that I have very vivid dreams which consist of much intensity and most likely hidden meanings of all kinds.

A strange thought to think another realm of existence lurks within us, which effects our everyday lives but we are strangely unaware of it, or at least our concious is un-aware of it (side thought: In order to be aware, must one be concious?)

In my dream, there was a meadow which was full of flowers of all kinds. Sunflowers, Iris's, daisies, roses, lillies, and all sorts of other flowers that I could not even articulate. I was running through the meadow breakthing in the sweet scent of all the flowers, lifting up praise to a transcendent reality. Then suddenly my perception shifted. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. I whirled around in fear, of something lurking, something unknown. I stepped closer to a sunflower, which was pointed almost straight up into the air, soaking in all the sun it could possibly drink. It was taller than I, but there was something earie about it. I stepped closer, suddenly becoming very aware of something dead buried beneath it. To my horror a bug shot out from the base of the sunflower, only to buzz and into my face and hair. I immediately fled the scene, only to be followed by this bug which persisted to torture me, with its incredilbe buzzing which was overwhelming. Then it occured to me, it is only a bug, what harm could it possible do? So I turned towards it and smashed it against my skin. Then the peace slowly returned. I looked at one of the beautiful flowers, and decided to pick only the blossom. When I picked it the entire plant came with it. I was saddened by my selfish actions, only to realize that now I had killed the entire plant. I threw the up-rooted plant across the road onto a neighboring hill. Then it suddenly re-seeded itself and flowers began to blossom over the hill. I was confused by this reaction, but slightly delighted. I continued on my way, exploring the lush green hills, meadows, flowers and forests.

A strange dream. If I was a dream interpreter I would tell everyone what this meant, but I am not. But for some reason I am compelled to share this dream with others. Death, and re-birth are themes, and hidden fears? What is my subconcious trying to tell me?

My life is currently in a process of re-evaluating meaning on all levels and all kinds. Love, Transcendent Reality, Prayer, Church, Faith are all being re-written. It is as though my world-view and symbolic meaning of the reality that has surrounded has been shattered to pieces and is not bieng re-formed. Death and re-birth. My Sacred Canopy has collapsed, and though at time I see myself sinking into the Anomic state I somehow see glimpses of something that walks into the chaos and makes sense of it all. The chaos is not gone, it is there, and sometimes I am almost swallowed by it. My interior world I am afriad is in shambles at this point in time. And it was made aparent to me that the ruins within myself could go eiather way. They could be (to quote the Celtic book of liturgy) eiather stumbling blocks or stepping stones. I pray that they will be stepping stones to a deeper understanding of the Transcendent Realities love, and a life of contemplation which results in action to make this dark world a better place.

Death and re-birth.

On other thoughts

Mysticsim

What do I do with this deep longing that is within myself? Who is God (or the Transcendent Reality)? Oh how I thirst.

Today I was looking up saints and I came across Thomas Merton. It is worth noting something about this man.

New Seeds of Contemplation: He empasizes silence, lack of image, presence, and so on is characteristic of the dark mysticism that goes back to Saint Gregory of Nyssa mediated through the writings of the Pseudo Idoysius and down to John of the Cross, and mediated once again through the monastic and scholastic doctors of the Middle Ages. Merton is about Shaker aesthetic, a lover of abstract art, fascinated with Chinese calligraphy and is deeply obbsessed with Eastern mysticism.

Here comes the quote of the day:

"It is a simple way of prayer. It is centered entirely on attention to the presence of God and to His will and His love....One might say that this gives my meditation the character described by the Prophet as "being before God as if you saw Him." Yet it does not mean imagining anything or conceiving a precise image of God, for to my mind this would be a kind of idolatry....My prayer tends very much towards what you call fana. There is in my heart this gret thirst to recongize totally the nothingness of all that is not God. My prayer is then a kind of praise rising up out of the center of Nothing and Silence....It is not "thinking about" anything, but a direct seeking of the Face of the Invisible, which cannot be found unless we become lost in Him who is invisible..."

Lost in the invisible.

Siging out for now

Kim