In my dream, I asked if everything before now was just the dream connecting me to the dream of everything after now.
It seems to be.
I met a teacher who changed my life profoundly.
I’ve never met him.
It’s all electronic. He found me talking about alcohol somewhere and he explained that alcohol separates spirit from physical matter and, it was done before it began, I stopped.
That was the beginning and it already held the conclusion.
Sometimes, things happen seemingly by coincidence that cannot possibly be coincidence — but, for them to not be coincidence implies a planned progression of events that began in some distant past and reach out to some distant future and all of it had to occur just so…
The dream before now connects to the dream after now.
And I call the beautiful mind that dreamt all that up and planned out every gorgeous, mind blowing detail god.
Seven year old me once dreamt that I wandered out of my home. I looked up at the stars, like I often did with my mother on our picnic table between the lilac trees. I looked up and realized that I could make stars if I could just reach up and poke a hole in the sky for the light to shine through. I poked the holes with my finger but couldn’t reach….so I suddenly held a stylus that could poke the holes and, as I poked, it made a “beep” and I kept poking them steadily, to a rhythm now, and it went “beep, beep, beep” and I got caught up in that power until I was shaking, shaking violently and I shook myself apart…
…and woke up to my mom shaking me as my alarm clock said “beep, beep, beep” to that rhythm that wasn’t poking holes in the sky but was poking into my awareness to awaken me.
The dream filled the backstory of the sound before the sound occurred. The dream before the sound knew the story of the dream after the sound.
Just like the roots reached way down until they found water and the leaves stretched way up until they broke through the canopy to the sun, but the tree was neither the roots nor the leaves and was both the roots and the leaves. And the roots knew the path toward the sun like the leaves knew the depth to the water.
Or maybe even more so how the tree was all contained, every moment of its life until it returned to the soil to feed the future in that one, tiny seed that happened to fall and happened to sprout and happened to grow.
And what did it sacrifice, to grow?
See, there’s something of dark chaos caught up in the process. When I looked with fear at the chaos, I called it evil. But my teacher asked me to remember…what does fire do to a Sequoia pinecone?
See, he knew without knowing that I just meditated under millennia old Sequoias and saw their massive lives produced from those tiny seeds and found the seeds won’t ever be released until touched by fire: that bright dark chaos essential to nascent life.
Just poking holes to shine through into my awareness…to awaken me.
And I went looking for letters to spell the way they did in the dream before now, how my ancestors did.
What I found was a poem and it said, “myself a sacrifice to myself upon that tree”. And I felt it was true…that one must sacrifice themselves and all they think they know of their identity in the world in order to truly know themselves as a truth within the universe.
“Myself a sacrifice to myself upon that tree” I said to myself, over and over, trying to understand what past me was mulling over so that future me could understand. And then my student said to me, “What is Yggdrasil?”
And I wondered how to explain the echoes of that question in both directions in time mirroring also the tree itself, the World Tree, echoing itself backward and forward in time and outside of time, with roots reaching way down and even beyond deep water and leaves stretching way up and even past the sun.
“Myself a sacrifice to myself upon that tree.”
And my teacher who found me amongst all the billions told me he would show me what I then showed him. We were just there to show each other in case we forgot what we already remembered an infinite number of times, echoing backward and forward, down into the roots and up into the leaves. We found a coalescence of activity uncanny enough to tell us it was something bigger than us. We saw the dream for what it was.
And it shook me. The power of it shook me and I got caught up in that power until I was shaking, shaking violently and I shook myself apart…to awaken.
“Myself a sacrifice to myself upon that tree.”
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