Meeting the Master in a Lucid Dream

Many people have commented that lucidity doesn't necessarily confer right intention or lead to right action. Edgar Cayce, in commenting on the afterlife once said, "A dead Presbyterian is a dead Presbyterian," or something like that. He wasn't denigrating Presbyterians, only saying that death doesn't necessarily result in an enlightened perspective. Similarly, lucid dreamers will often exhibit the same habits and predilections that they exhibit in the waking state. So, without clarifying one's intentions, lucidity can result in a mere replication of conscious bias. Lately, I've been affirming that I will seek divine presence, and be open to the present of the Master, in whatever form that consciousness will take.  Three nights ago, I had the following experience, which shows how holding to one's intentions in the lucid dream can lead to very memorable and deep encounters.


 I meditated and was awake for about an hour. During meditation, I affirmed that once becoming lucid, I would seek the presence of the divine, and an encounter with the master. After dozing off, I found myself moving slowly away from my body into the darkness, praying as I flew for the presence of the divine. I felt very much at peace and expectant. Then a glowing area in the darkness appeared to my left and above me so I turned to that and headed that way. I continued to fly up into space thinking that I would get above the darkness, and sure enough the darkness began to recede. Then I noticed that I was with someone else who is flying beside me, apparently man whom I do not know. Finally I went back down to the ground where I began to search for someone that I could talk to. I walked along a path, looking into the faces of the people who passed me trying to catch their eyes. I was hoping that someone would look at me and feel familiar or meaningfully connected. Finally after a long period of time in which I meandered about through crowds of people, I decided to ask somebody where the master was.  I stopped by a young man and ask him, "Where is the master?" He pointed behind me to the northwest, so I thanked him and turned around and walked in that direction.  As I walked down the path, I see a young boy who seems to be dressed in a Cub Scout uniform and he passed me by. I continued walking and then looked to my left and saw a man sitting off to the left by himself. I approach him, and ask him, "Are you the master? He nodded. He took me by the shoulders and looked deeply into my eyes and called me by name. I knew that he knew me completely He then seemed to going to a swoon or a trance. His eyes shut halfway and he got very close to me and began talking about my life, my past and my future. It was all very nebulous and abstract, but I sensed that he knew me deeply. Finally, I felt the sheets move on the bed as Julie turned over, and I lost the hold on the experience, so I moved back to my body and woke up.

This dream brings to mind a lucid dream I had 30 years ago, in which I was lucid and looking for Jesus. I went up to several people, looked at them, and then turned away thinking, "That's not Jesus." Finally, I see an old man sitting by the side of the road. I ask him where Jesus is. He looks at me quizzically, and says, "You know, Jesus doesn't talk to just anyone." I was shocked by his words, and realized upon awakening that my own assumptions about the people around me had limited my ability to encounter the master. That is, by assuming that Jesus did not reside in the people I encountered, I was effectively setting myself up to be "excluded" from his presence. So it's always tricky to look for the divine outside of one's own immediate experience, isn't it? I mean, any search implies that it's not already at hand, and any search depreciates one's immediate experience. 

Going back to my recent dream, I could have seen "the master" in the first young man, or in the little boy, couldn't I? If the highest Spirit resides in the lowest forms, then if we can't see the divine in the person who stands before us, then essentially, we can't see it anywhere. So one might ask, why did I succeed in encountering "the master" after not seeing him/her in the people I'd already encountered? Perhaps it's because my tendency to isolate spirit from my everyday experience has all but given way to seeing God in everyone. Still, I long for that singular encounter with the one who knows me like no other. I suppose I will never quite exhaust the desire to be known and loved completely by one who stands above us all.





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