Vision of Slaying the Dragon

I had a beautiful vision this morning. First I’ll recount it, and then I’ll talk about visions.

During the sit, I drifted into a semi-dreamlike state which was distinguished from a dream in at least 3 ways. One, it was very clear. Two, I was conscious of what was going on, and aware that this was me having this experience (so to speak). Three, I was able to easily manipulate what was going on, just as I am now. More so, in a way, since I could wave objects into and out of existence, but the point being, unlike a dream, in which even my actions are seemingly beyond my control, I was able to act as directly as wiggling my toes now.

So, I saw myself walking down a short few stairs and peering around the corner into a basement. I had a very brief flash of total horror – it wasn’t even clear, really, just that there was a lot of violence, and Mom was there, and it was terrible. It was like in a movie where you see like a quick frame of a whole scene of gruesome gore – not for even a full second or two, like in the Shining, but really just for a flash. My first response was to say “Whoa, well, I’m not going to go there.” And recognize that this was a fantasy and just another of those unfortunate dark sides of my imagination. Like when I was kind of fixated on the nun whose a yogi here, as I still am basically, and kept imagining all kinds of terrible violence. You know, slashing and stabbing and things like that. That happens to me a lot, and it makes me feel very sad and dirty. Maybe after processing this vision I won’t so much anymore. I don’t know why it happens. I don’t feel any animosity toward the nun - on the contrary, I think she’s sweet and has totally fantastic clothes that I wish I had. Maybe what I’m slashing is myself, or my desire? I think this instinct of mine is targeted more towards women than men, but it happens with men also. Almost always people I really like. When I imagine the president getting stabbed or something, I feel a little guilty because it’s not a nice image to cultivate, but it doesn’t really disturb me. No, it’s usually someone I love or care about - precisely that. And then I get these horrible images.

What I decided, though, instead of shying away from it, is, I would look at it with my equanimity. I mean, that’s what the practice is, right? This week especially, when I’ve set a few intentions -- 1: to do the schedule as fully and ‘religiously’ as possible and see what happens, 2: to allow negative stuff to come up, even encourage it a little bit, to go into that, 3: concurrently, to allow more of a focus on myself, in contrast to the ontology of emptiness & nonduality. I felt a sense of courage and confidence. I would go in there, in my meditation pose, surrounded by white light, and would not be harmed. Whatever I saw, I would see and not run away from. I felt a fair amount of fear, and stayed with that for a bit - fear, fear. Then went in.

It was a little unclear exactly what was going on - this is a feature of some of my visions, which is why retreat is so obviously critical for the development of this faculty, since what makes it unclear is clearly my small mind desiring it one way or the other, trying to construct some sort of experience. On retreat, I’m much more able to allow. It’s so, so much clearer. Dreams, visions, all of it. In fact, I have a worry that off retreat, things will get so unclear so fast that it’s almost not worth spending time with this, because it’ll be so gone. I’m so into my goddess and god visualizations, I can’t wait to do them with people, but I feel like, if you’re in normal, busy, desiring, self-identifying mind - can you even do it with any power?

Unclear, but eventually it resolved itself into Mom being horribly attacked by some kind of dragon or beast. She was mostly naked, and bleeding, and crying. Around the periphery of the room - the basement area was like a smallish room - I dimly perceived bones and flesh and lots of badly injured, mutilated people. It was terrible and terrifying - blood everywhere - but I saw/felt myself clearly to be in a kind of triangle of white light, because I was meditating and in this space of tranquility.

Mom ran from the room, out the door and up the stairs. I felt good for letting her out. I wondered, is this really what her inner life is like? I thought, no, it’s not this bad. She’s not even aware of it if it is. But, maybe it is this bad ‘underneath.’ I can’t remember exactly what happened in what order, but I’m pretty sure it was this one. I turned to face the dragon, which was morphing and swiping and everything, very much in contemporary special effects mode, but also very real and organic and dangerous. I observed that I could just let it swipe through me, because what was ‘I’ anyway? I turned to face the dragon and with my power I just began to shrink it and change it until it was finally a small, white bird that posed no threat to anyone. I put it into a cage and was at peace. Then I set about healing the situation around me. I started painting the room with the white light. The blood-spattered walls, the concrete - effortlessly turned them all white. I was in the presence of God. There was a kind of concentration of white light, to the right of where the dragon was but to the left of where the bird now resided in the birdcage. The white light was kind of like a pillar of fire, in that image, but not really and definitely not so violent, more just a presence, a radiance, of white light. I knelt before God and acknowledged that this was God’s power, not mine, and thanked God for being able to channel it. We looked around the room (‘we’ is how it seemed) and there were still the remains of the people that were there. God said “Can these bones live?” Of course I remembered Ezekiel - which caused me to realize, this is a vision, this is just what the prophets had, only perhaps they were clearer, and of course, their whole world recognized this as part of human consciousness, part of what it is to be a human is, for some, for the prophets, to have visions like this. So I answered “O Lord, thou knowest.” Then I rose, and seemingly moved my arms to gather together all of the bits and pieces of people that were strewn all over the white space. I breathed love into them and created a person out of them, a beautiful, male but androgynous-looking human being who looked me in the eye and smiled. The face was beatific, a bit like some of the virgin mary paintings, or the very effeminate Jesus ones - the man had no beard. I did check to see if it was a man, and it was, he had a penis, but it was not a sexual charge that I got from it - that wasn’t where this vision was headed. I embraced the man and he walked up the stairs. I felt - and feel now, recounting it, an almost indescribable joy and holiness and peace and love for God.

I remembered my mother, and ‘called’ her down the stairs mentally. She was still battered and bloody. It was very hard for me to look at her for three reasons. One, she was in this awful shape. Two, she was naked. Three, I had all kind of Oedipal fears and intimacy ‘issues’ with the situation. I am afraid to let mom back into my life, I have trusted her before and been betrayed. I see a need to heal this relationship, maybe even a fundamental need, but this woman will never approve of who I am, and I fear that being close to her will guide me to be a person I don’t even want to be. Part of me invents rationalizations for doing it - hey I’ll get more free stuff, and so on. Part of me wants to heal her pain, and heal my pain. But a worried, non-trusting part of me reminds me that this is the woman who caused me so much agony. Then again, maybe it was more me responding to her than her herself. I felt all of this, but kind of was with all that awkward unpleasant and intimate energy, and turned to heal her, too. With the same white light I healed the various scars that she had, and she was whole. Aware that she was naked, I created a sort of white toga or something for her to wear. Then I thought, I’m doing this for her, what would she want. So it became an elegant dress, like a wedding dress - elegant as she says. I smiled at that. While I was at it, I caused her to lose some weight so she looked like she did in her 40s. And then I remembered a photo I saw of her from her first wedding, where she had some sort of tiara or crown, so I created one on top of her head and smiled at that too. I created a place for her to rest in the white room/space, and was now completely clear on letting her lead her life the way she wanted to - so it was that loveseat that she put in my room in her apartment, which I can’t stand but which she likes. Only it was white, with pink and aqua stripes as she would want. I stuck a picture on the wall above it, then made it many pictures as she likes to arrange. I even created some plants, including birds of paradise (which I recognized as being a little tacky, no?, but it’s what she likes) and she sat down on the loveseat surrounded by all the plants.

She said, “You know, I’m really at a different stage these days,” as if to ask for a change of clothes. So I changed the dress into one of those nice casual suits she has, with the jacket and slacks and t-shirt blouse underneath - first it was black with golden yellow, then I changed it to white with some pastel color, since after all this was all white. She seemed very comfortable, and sat down. It occurred to me that she’d probably watch TV.

I turned back to the white radiance, grateful. It said “No, she can’t see me,” in response to a query I hadn’t yet expressed - can she see You? “But, she can perceive me through this,” and I saw the light filtered through the Torah to her, and saw how she cherished that. It occurred to me, the Buddha is also (just) a filter, and I saw an image of the Buddha between me and the light, filtering the light in that way, and then disappearing. I felt so grateful to be able to see the light directly, and also a little wary of being too arrogant. I feel like there was an emanation of ‘don’t worry’ from the white light, or some sense of comfort or assurance. I realized too that to see God everywhere, to see the light in everything as Surya Das said, means to really be free of all filters, even as we appreciate them all. That requires the purification - to see God even where I am sure there isn’t God, as in stressful situations and constricted people and all the rest of the shadow.

I was with that Presence. I felt like this was the next step after the vision I had up in 101 a few days ago during my deep concentration - a vision I can now barely remember but which ended when I asked “Must ‘God’ also be set aside?” and was answered “That’s all for now.”

Anyway this was the next step. I awoke feeling so lucky and so gifted with this.

Now it is 805 and I barely have time to reflect before the sit.

I feel like this is what I want. All that self stuff from last night – okay, okay, but let’s prioritize God. When doing all the self stuff, be aware ‘This is self-stuff.’ Treat it as something we honor and take care of, but not make the center.

I want to work with Andrew Ramer to develop my visionary faculties. I want to work with Michael Cohen to life-coach the self-stuff pieces and figure out what’s the right balance. And I want to work with Joseph Kramer on the sex part.

But what if I really could be a prophet visionary. I don’t have to be heard or listened to. I’m not sure I even want to be. What if I developed this ability and spent time looking into these inner realms?

Now, what do I think happened. I don’t have a real conception of what angels are - maybe that white light is what Andrew would call an angel. I see it as, I don’t know. Obviously my imagination plays an important role, this was an inner journey into imagination. But that imagination is “tapped in.” These weren’t images I was creating - these were images I was allowing. That was the sense – allow this to be. When I was acting, I was acting. But there was also a temptation to manipulate the scene - that had to be allowed. So I’m not sure exactly who had this vision, or what it was. But I feel in my heart that it is what prophecy is. Or shamanism. I can understand Don Juan more (Castaneda).

It feels very close to me, though. Not really so scary. And the key is, this isn’t about me, this is about allowing more than that. Beyond ego. It’s nice that I am a little reticent to even share this experience, since it countervails my egoic desire to be Known as some kind of sage. But I feel like, look, this is something I can do. I have the writing creativity, the spiritual practice, the different traditions (SO important to have multiple filters), the tachlis piece. And it is so, so refreshing not to be serving my selfish desire. That is so tedious and so unsatisfying! Just do, do, do. Plug away. But always come back to presence.

You can only be authentically equanimous from a place of presence. If you’re still in all the thoughts, it’s just a thought of equanimity.

Now, to sit.