Aug 12, 2013

Another Theme Completed

Summary:  Stubborn math test finally completed and stress overcome for a satisfying completion of this lesson's term in spirit school; An old relationship with a young dead man returns;  Field trip to distant island and ruins; Circular artifact with pictographs improperly decoded; The failing of modern ability to translate ancient picture messages.

A common theme I've wrestled with decoding the meaning of and finding completion of (how I get recurring dreams to cease), is the school based dreams where I am going to be taking the final or some test and forgot to study or refresh material I've studied earlier in my education. Often I had fallen behind on my math homework or made a silly mistake on a test that would sabotage the whole grade. I become overly stressed. To be clear, I am not in school, I have not taken math in a few years; I perceive this as a metaphor not derived from immediate content of my life in such a direct ratio, rather it is conveying the idea that I am forgetting to do something I already knew the math principles at some time before. 

Sometimes this same message is portrayed as forgetting to have practiced my lines before a play and the build up of stress as my part approaches.

Well, whatever I did yesterday, my soul approved of.

Night of August 10/11 2013

Term Completed
In a classroom already taking the final math test of the term. I get through 2/3rds of it easily, but the last parts I can't remember how to do those kinds of problems. They are familiar, but the methodology is not fresh in mind. I accept what I do not know and turn in the test satisfied with having tried my best on those problems that I did do. There was no point in stressing through problems I couldn't remember how to solve. I spent the rest of the time allotted for the test at my desk fiddling contentedly and doing some undefined activity (writing maybe?) that I looked forward to doing all during the test.

I did wonder how my failure to finish the last portion would affect my grade, but I was still relieved to be done.

An announcement was spoken later that any students who wanted to retest or finish could meet in the study hall or lounge.

I figured it'd be responsible to go see about completing the section I left blank. So I attended. I walked into a lounge area. The students are all comfortably situated in chairs and couches asleep or watching a movie the teacher put on. I ask him about completing my test. "Wha?? No. It's done. Just relax with everyone else and watch the movie, enjoy the term being over." He was just as anxious to be done with it all anyway. He was also saying to me that my marks were enough to graduate, which, from spirit school, is enough cause for celebration in itself, regardless of the overall marks. I only caught the end of the movie, but it really was good to finally relax. How rarely do I get to relax in my dreaming. I'm often so busy training, being taught life and personality lessons, exploring terrible realities and learning to cope with the atrocities in our universe. I truly enjoyed lying on a chair for a few moments in pleasant reverie, feeling satisfied at the accomplishment of finishing the term. Spirit classes aren't on time frames, its based on the individual's progress. I've been replaying this lesson in different contexts for months. My only trouble is, I'm not entirely sure what changed or happened that clicked in my completion. What keeps pounding in my thoughts as the answer is having realized what my confidence and devoted expression looks like when writing about theoretical subjects like I do. Putting together what clues and information I am aware of (the math I do know) in an honest and intelligent way that is true to my current understanding, regardless of how absurd or unorthodox it seems, will set my investigations and theories thus far into the public forum for further information to be added or helped correct the existing data and theories. I need to acknowledge what I know and be proud of what I do know, regardless of what I am still missing. I worry too much about what I haven't been given warning to remember yet (the bottom portion of the math test or the homework I somehow fell behind in though I knew the answers). It's like the dreams are telling me "Try not to get ahead of yourself."
(See other posts featuring this theme and lesson:
"The Little, Simple Things"
"Lost Love"
"Writer's Block: Fear"
"I know who I am Channeling" )

Touching Base and Translation of an Artifact
To further prove how easily humans can establish spiritual links with our dead, I briefly thought about my ex boyfriend who committed suicide years ago, wondering what became of him and if suicide really does condemn the soul. As background, Jake and I dated superficially in 6th grade, but he did so to get closer to my best friend. He shot himself after we graduated high-school, while I was home from college. To the casual observer, he led a privileged life:  lovely girlfriend, supportive family, nice car and job. Of course I know how empty those things can be, so I don't ascribe to the confusion that assumption allows. I just wonder about him.

As celebration of our graduating spirit school back in the dream, our class was taken on a field trip to explore the ruins and current status of the remaining culture of an island. The climate is arid, but there is many exotic trees and dangerous plants. We are staying in modest housing. I have acquired an artifact from the natives that intrigues me, though no one else, including the natives, give it much consideration. It is two flat circular stone tablets five inches each in diameter. They are connected so that they look how two chain links are connected, one vertical, one horizontal. The bottom one is lined with pictographs, while the top one seems to be a decoder, like a Rosetta stone. Each picture is listed as equivalent to a phonetic sound represented in IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet that uses set characters with accent marks to represent any sound in known human language; i.e. "derelict" is "dɛrəlɪkt", and the french word "ennui" is "ɒnˈwiː" ; it is taught in classical singing where proper pronunciation of multiple languages provides singers with versatility and respect for other cultures). This frustrates me because the decoder assumes each picture is representing a sound rather than an idea or thought, more abstract concepts beyond language as combinations of sounds. Any sound attached to a picture was the resonance or frequency that that idea was as a thought wave. When our world fell and lost the ability for its intelligent inhabitants to receive and translate the thoughts constantly broadcasted by living consciousness, so did the translation of those pictures also fall. Humanity had to derive a form of communication and so was taught to broadcast ideas with our mouths, which evolved in a dumbed sense into language. 

I studied this artifact in my quiet hours while the other students mingled outside and participated in the wonders of the area. I found the date and name of the interpreter engraved on the top stone, a recent year. The top stone was added onto the original ancient artifact. So no one gave this small thing its proper attention because its been attached to an incomplete interpretation for so long it became unimportant. 

Two elder natives dressed in modern clothing sitting outside our housing strike a conversation with me as I pass by. They vent their helplessness about the decreased interest in the ruins of the nearby island, how people aren't interested in visiting and wondering about it anymore. The intrigue about the island is diminishing, and so their culture is suffering, a culture centered on the ruins. I wasn't sure what I'm supposed to do about it, so why tell me, I thought. [Actually, this has been the third or fourth scene in my dreams in the last few months asking me "Why does no one visit our ruins and explore the answers of unasked questions to be found there?" Indeed. I trust there is a unifying science behind our megalithic ruins that we have yet to understand again. Portals? Meeting areas for spirits, like sign posts a spirit can find. How are these ruins connected? What were they used for?]

Jake is one of the students. He and I decide to try dating again as we are now. He is excited to have a girlfriend again. Our field study/vacation out here is coming to a close so I am cleaning out my stuff from a small locker. He comes up to me and runs a hand across his buzzed haircut saying it's greasy and gross like he had never had greasy hair before and this was new to him. I explain the heat here has built sweat and made his hair gross. I provide him the easy and obvious solution of taking a shower. I tell him it will cool him off too. I had to pause and take stock of how my own body felt and smelled. Yes, temperature cool despite the heat, and smells clean. I can indeed say I took a shower recently for the same purpose he should. 
He thinks for a moment, truly surprised by this solution. "Oh, really?" He asks for verification. 
"Yes." I say. 
"Okay, I'll try that." 
How odd. "But wait for me," I say, "I want to join you." 
"I wouldn't have it any other way." 

I smile to myself at his enthusiasm. Maybe I could tell him about the artifact I found. He might appreciate that I have intelligent thought. I begin to describe my thoughts on why the decoder may be wrong, and learn he is already making his way to the other end of the room.

I hear him speak out to the other students. "Hey, we should all get ready and pack up our stuff to leave. I'm going to be in the shower though, so please don't disturb me until I'm out." His speech was obvious. 

I laugh to myself embarrassingly. Am I really ready to see him naked and for him to see me? I think about the extra fat of my hips and thighs. Quickly I accept it. He will be glad to have company and enjoy some closeness. He won't care about any physical flaws, and if he does then I will shape his attitude up. 

The feeling I get isn't of a sexual nature. I imagine us chatting and washing each other, splashing and being playful for the joy of company, not like awkward foreplay that would ensue when two people know they are about to have sex for the first time and neither are prepared or committed enough for it to be out of love. I sensed his time has been lonely, and that he was simply excited to see a familiar face. He was still learning the ropes of his spirit body, rather, of how imagination co-creates with the energy of the spirit realm. 

I felt satisfied to show him as I am matured how much of a companion I can be, that he never gave me a chance when we were young. Whether the outcome of amending that was a deliberate calling on his part or not, I was still glad to provide him comfort and set right any residual feelings of betrayal or hurt I had about our past. We were young. I forgave him long ago. It was nice to show it and try new for a brief moment in time. 

I'm glad he is well.

[Another scene was interjected somewhere in the above dream:  One fun activity to do on this dangerous paradise was to jump off a five hundred foot (tall!) waterfall into the water below. I thought it a crazy stunt because only a small area at the bottom of the waterfall was actually water, the rest was solid rock platforms. The waterfall became a thin river at the bottom. For the space to jump from up top, your measurement had to be precise, otherwise you'd splat on the rock. If this was an estimate in my mastery of gleeful imagination over fear, manipulation of physics, then I sorely failed. It felt too real. I was afraid to miscalculate the position of my jump. I thought my friends crazy, yet somehow they always made it. They saw all water, a large pool equal to the width of the waterfall. I saw a narrow channel. First time I've dreamed of being at the top of a waterfall. Only other waterfall I remember was when I fought a zombie in its pool.

When one lesson is learned, another begins.]

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