I don’t know about you, but my dreams are becoming more vivid these days. And I mean that not only in the clarity of visual, but also emotional, detail.
Last night I found myself presiding in a courtroom. But it wasn’t one where testimony was given and weighed; it wasn’t a probative setting. No one was examining and cross-examining witnesses.
Instead documents were being assessed and accepted; the setting was affirmative. The claimant was being acknowledged and welcomed into a setting. I had the feeling that a lot of the value of the proceedings lay in what was said in the final statement.
I was particularly drawn to the formality of the setting, and favorably so. It was put on for the sake of the claimant, not because I and my colleagues wanted it that way. I was dressed in some sort of legal costume (see photo of gown, below) and it was acceptable to me. I felt very much impressed with the proceedings.
The formality sticks in my memory because, when I sat years ago, I was very much less formal than my colleagues. While I sometimes wore a suit and often just the regulation black sports jacket (see photo, below right), I always, as a matter of reminding myself to remain humble, wore desert boots (upper photo). They poked a hole in any developing pomposity, no pun intended.
My colleagues wore polished patent leather shoes (above). One of them would often whisper in the lunchroom, in a loving manner, “Steve, lose the shoes.” But I never did. The shoes became a standing joke, pun intended.
I remember how one day, when I strode towards a claimant to congratulate her on having been accorded refugee status, (1) she bent down to touch my shoes … errr, desert boots. That was perhaps the one day I wish I had been wearing something a little more formal.
But, in this dream, I was very comfortable being gowned. The urban monk was set aside and it seemed appropriate to do so. I felt no discomfort.
I feel shy relating this dream and am forcing myself to do it and resisting the urge to delete this post, because being a writer means sharing details like these. Now I need to introduce the matter of the rays.
Ever since reading AA Michael’s recent message, I’ve been working with the blue ray of Will, the pink ray of Love, and the golden ray of Wisdom, separately or merged as the violet ray of Transformation. Before my daily meditation, I’ve been asking my celestial, spirit and galactic guides to send me those rays around the clock, whether I remember to ask them to do so or not.
And then during my meditation, I’ve been imagining the rays beaming down on me.
You remember that AA Michael said the rays were alchemical. Well, I certainly am feeling a palpable result.
What I currently do is I imagine myself being bathed in them at the same time as asking for a specific result.
In terms of Will, I’ve been asking to be more surrendered to the divine Will, stronger in my own Will for that which is wholesome, and stronger in restraining myself from that which is unwholesome.
In terms of Love, I’ve been asking for more love, compassion, and considerateness
In terms of Wisdom, I’ve been asking for more commitment to the truth, less attachment to the false or hypocritical, and a better ability to discriminate between the two.
If I were to think of one word that would typify a person who succeeded alchemically in creating these qualities within him or herself, I would say “ennobled.”
And the funny thing was that “ennobling” was exactly a word I’d use to describe the business of the legal setting of my dream. The purpose was to leave the claimant feeling inspired, “ennobled.”
I must say I cannot wait until this evening’s sleep to see what the invisible teachers wish to communicate next. Who knows. Dreams just may become a very much more significant part of my life than they have in the past.
(1) It still brings tears to my eyes to say over in my mind the magical words that we would end a positive decision with: “… and I extend to you Canada’s protection.” For people who had been tortured or imprisoned in their home countries, those words meant salvation.