To: K-list
Recieved: 2004/03/25 09:56
Subject: Re: [K-list] My Reoccurring Dream of Attachment
From: M.A.S.
On 2004/03/25 09:56, M.A.S. posted thus to the K-list:
At 02:25 PM 24/03/2004, David Bozzi wrote:
>:)
>
>It seems like an archetypal dream.
>I was wondering if others had had it also
>(or derivatives of it).
>
>Thanx
I used to have it often. Trying to pack, someplace to go, and the stuff
keeps multiplying.
One dream, I had been storing my stuff at an art college, and discovered
the students had been using my clothes, etc. as props, the stuff was
strewn all over, in different rooms on many different floors of this huge
building.
I was invited to a fancy dinner for a King who was ill. A grand function
being held on the top floor of the college, the whole place was busy with
preparations. I did not think I could make it, I had so much to do, but did
stop in briefly towards the end. Caught the Kings attention by my late
arrival, gave him some healing but there was no time, he had to go. He
invited me to join him at his summer palace... (the role of the King was
elegantly played by Raul Julia) I explained that I had to finish packing,
and he said it was not necessary to bring anything, he would provide
everything I might need, whatever I desired.
I believed him, but I really wanted to bring some of my favourite silk
shirts... I could not find them, looked all night and missed the King's
boat. Watching it pull away from the dock without me, one of the King's
entourage (a famous comedian) started making fun of my lateness and my
attachment to the shirts, how I had not trusted the King and had made them
more important than he... but also telling me there would be another boat
sometime later.
Waking, I realized the King was Shiva... and despaired at my
foolishness at not trusting "Goddess provides."
Some months later, I had another dream, I was a courier of some
secret information with enemy spies after me. I eluded them in the airport,
luggage check in etc. but a female spy caught up to me on the tarmac as I
was about to board the airplane, holding a gun on me, to bring me back to
the group of spies at the departure gate. I remembered I had wings, under
my trench coat. I distracted her by asking her to hold my coat, draping it
over her weapon and flew off, leaving my coat and all of my luggage behind
except for the tiny briefcase (not mine) that held the vital message I was
to deliver.
I awoke, ecstatic. I have not had the luggage dream since, except once,
when I actually was busy packing to move into my present home...
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