stories

two mornings ago i dreamed of heaven. of course to get to heaven i also had to dream of dying. i also dreamed of getting to heaven. i am still seeping all i can from these dreams.

i remember death being sudden. i remember broken concrete with rybar sticking out. crashing, danger. there were terrible shouts and screams, but it was quick. broken metal, glass, a profound sense of fear and loss so empty my heart was broken. i remember my eyes flashing across those of my father as it was not his time yet. i don't remember my mom being there, i am both happy and sad about this. she probably would have wanted to be near me at the moment when i would breath my last on this plane. she probably also wouldn't want to witness the tragedy of a son dying before his mother. both sadness and joy.

i think of those who were near me. A. and her family, i think of how i was unable to help them after the accident. how they made it on their own, and how A. needed help because i froze. how that is okay, we all need help being saved. chasms and such. death was so quick. not as fast as lightning, more similar to horse race speed. there was both blistering action and moments of hesitation. such an interesting feeling.

and after dying we had to get to where ever it was we were headed. the thing i remember most was the door. and when i say door think of it as more of a hatch. like the iron lid on old locamotives powered by steam, the porthole to the coal. on the front of this door, it must have been 3 or 4 feet in diameter, were words, "Those who wear Abercrombie & Fitch Beware." the words scared me. the sent tremors through me and through my wardrobe. i only owned one shirt from the company mentioned on the iron hatch. the issue wasn't with the shirt. it was about arrogance. it was about the desire to be seen. to be the centre, to be valued, it was about letting go, abandoning control.

on the other side of the door were coals. the coals of control. to be free i needed to step through the hatch onto the coals. i knew my destination lay beyond them. unlike most of my life i found myself only in socks. no shoes whatever. i had to step my way through the hatch onto burning coals. i had to let go. this wasn't some fire trick in hawaii either. they weren't coals that had ash on them. they were deep fire colored, ready to teach my socks, and my feet, a lesson. the first step wasn't as hard as the second, which turned out to be the hardest. my first foot came down and i could feel the heat. my brain told me no. so i did the opposite. i put my next foot down. the fire burned through my socks like newspaper. i was standing on top of fire. the heat around me was blasting, like the desert in a wind storm. i saw others walking too, the fire was cavernous, bigger than i had originally thought.

i quickly noticed all that was destroyed by the coals were my socks. so i walked. i don't know for how long or for how short. it may have been 5 minutes or 3 hours. i know i saw many people walking, never close to me, always a quarter mile or so off. i am sure they were all dealing with the fires of the heart.

at one point i remember looking up and seeing a doorway. there was a heavenly attendent beconing me, ushering me to the finality of my walk across the coals. when i reached the door and stepped through i knew i was in heaven, or at least a place close to it. A. was there, though i hadn't seen her since the Iron Hatch, her family was there, my step father, W., was there, G. was there. i recognized many people. the place was something like a peaceful airport terminal. it was clean, artful, modern but different. both calm and busy, both quiet and loud. there was activity in different areas, while in others there was stillness. many people were calmly sitting near potted plants, reading, or enjoying what looked like to be the first relaxed moment they had ever experienced. on the other hand, there were those over filled with emotion. tearful reunions, excitement, lost loves holding each other for the first time in a long time. i remember being extra emotional, crying, embracing, making a bit of a scene, hey it's what i do. i felt like i was free, like i was able to finally be who i knew i should be and wanted to be all at the same time.

shortly, as i recall, after i arrived, another friend arrived that i knew. LCP was a little dazed. it was then that i knew this dream was about heaven. it was about the kingdom of the One. LCP's presence brought it all home. like the crescendo of a poem - that one line that sticks out in your mind, the one that ties the bow so pretty just before the denouement.

* * * * *

and that was all. i woke up from the dream. or maybe i didn't. i think the reality of our dreams are just as valid as the reality of the cards dealt face up on the table. our dreams are the down cards in a 7-Card stud game.

so what now? i don't know particularly. there was something real about this one. there has been something real about these past few years, but there has also been something lacking. actually there has been something lacking from the moment the One dreamed me up a half a million years ago. there is something lacking in the heart of humans. it is what makes us not the One. it is the Are. we are unable to confidently define us as Being, we are not the I Am, and this is what we lack. we get the rest; food from the tree of life and the tree of knowledge but this food does us no good for the hunger, the deep Hunger, and because we will never, well at least for a long time, be able to call ourselves the Are, the definitive, our divine hunger will grow.

so we have this little bit, these little gifts, and we have hunger. so i come up with two questions: What am i doing with the little i was given? and How is my Hunger?