15 Jun Resurrecting Only the Dead

[The following is one dream, probably of many that I had during the night. I wrote it down immediately afterward but could not remember the others.]

I’m at a college somewhere looking through old books. I know that I’ve been here before and bought some monograms about Greece. One was about Corinth. I find one I want that I carry around with me. It has a loose cover. I’m looking through shelves of some very old books, mostly hardbacks. Some are in poor condition. A man working here is watching me, or at least is aware I’m here. I think part of my problem is that he thinks I might be stealing something. I can’t find another book I want, so I go to the counter to pay. A few people are milling around at the counter. I get behind one, but a friend of mine tells me that I’ll have to wait forver in that line. It’s not what it seems he says. It’s much more difficult to pay that you’d imagine. I get in line behind the person anyway. Antoher man comes up behind me and wants to crowd through, but I won’t let him. “I’m looking for a job,” he says. “Well, they’ll deal with me first,” I say, meaning that they’ll want to make money before hiring someone, trying to be funny. He looks concerned, not in the mood for an inappropriate joke from me.

Then the scene shifts, and I’m in a room with a woman sitting at a desk. “He resurrected only the dead,” she said. I saw the color red when she said that and thought of the Devil.

And then the dream ends.

[I’ve had no luck with AI sessions the last few days. I started the following Active Imagination session immediately after writing down the above dream. The session was difficult for me. I thought about not including it at all, but after the session on the following night, I realized its importance. It was typing in the dark, real time using my Macintosh Air. It has been edited for clarity, but not for content.]

I start the AI session. I see a blank, dark nothingness before me with a pale light in the center, diffuse. Nothing moves. No definition within the blackness of Erebos. Slight movement at the top. Slight general movement, a faint flash. I’m irritated, probably not the best attitude to coax something across the void. I imagine a bridge instead of a void. Must bridge the dialectic. “I’m not giving up this time,” I say. “I’ll wait you out.”

Still a beligerant attitude. Just Erebos. Soften my attitude. Don’t expect something big. Be patient. Tolerate the boring. Welcome the borning, the blankness. Be tollerant. Accept nothing. Perhaps it’s trying to tell me something. There is nothing. Accept whatever comes. Flashes to the right. Faint. Breathing deep and regular. A struggle somewhere, hand-to-hand struggling. “I’m struggling,” someone says. “…to get free.” “Come to me,” I say. “I’ll help.” Then I wonder if I’m being tricked into a fight. Maybe I’ll be helping the wrong person. “I can wait you out,” they say. When I as in the eighth grade, I rmember being given an assignment. The class was to write something, but I couldn’t get any words down on paper. My teacher, Mr Bowles, came over to me and said that all the work I’d done during the year, he could stick up his ose. I was humiliated. I couldn’t get started. Just like I can’t now. And this is me, my Unconscious blocked from entering into my Consciousness. Still nothing. Finally, a light spot inthe center of my field of vision. It fades. Did I make it fade? The nothingness. Is this Erebos? Is Erebos trying to tell me something? Is nothingness the big lesson? Is it meaningless?  Jung said that a sreries of images will appear, images that together tell a story. I see no images. I will not make this stuff up. I see nothing. I have no Unconscious. My mind has no depth. I am empty, void. I have no meaning. My mind is nothing. I life is meaningless. Everything is surface. All I see before me is a meaningless space filled with darkness. Nothing. Heartless. I have no daytime dreams. I am nothing. Useless. Helpless. I see nothing. Even the darkness is pale. The darkness of the soul. the soul’s uselessness. I am stopped. I am quit. I am nothing. I am nowhere. I am no one. Yet, I see darkness, not even pure darkness, light darkness, gray, not even Erebos. A blank gray surface without depth. No deep black, no emptiness, no deep darkness, nothing. Gone. Erased. Never have been. Never will be. No soul No life. This is the lesson. This isn’t a starting place. This is it. This is everything. This is me. This is what I’ve become. I’ve come to nothing.

And then I stop the session.

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