Do You Dream - Tony Crisp

Chapter Eleven - Part Two

A DREAM SAMPLER AND SLEEP EXPERIENCE

DREAMS OF THE DEAD

Unless our consciousness actually projects, and enters this ultra clear stage in sleep, our contact with others. or the dead. will still be through the symbol-forming function of a ‘less conscious’ area of our mind. This does not invalidate the reality of the contact. Because a prophetic dream is seen in symbols, this does not mean it is untrue, it simply means it is less direct Some people who do not understand dreams and have not taken the trouble to examine the workings of the mind are often heard to say, ‘Oh, that’s only a dream.’ From the information already presented, I hope it can be seen that contact with another mind is very likely to be shown in symbols. But we must not therefore put it aside as valueless. I must state that I am not, in this book, attempting to prove anything. For those who are not convinced, then such great works as those of F. W. H. Myers, will be more helpful.

I am more interested in writing for those who wish to know how their dreams may put them in contact with their dead family and friends. To start with, it often happens that we dream of the person in connection with death, before the transition occurs. Or sometimes, just as it occurs. To make this plainer, here is a dream experienced by my father. His own father was Italian by birth, and at the end of the war (1945) he wished to revisit Italy. He had booked his holiday and was going on a Sunday morning. On the Friday night prior to his departure, my father woke from a dream crying. My mother, disturbed by his tears, asked him what was the matter. He replied that he had dreamt his father had died. He also saw two passport photographs of his brothers, with the impression of a plane journey, while in the background was his father, smiling at him. When the family went to see him off, my father felt he would never see him alive again. A postcard came to say he had arrived safely. On the Tuesday week, a telegram arrived saying he had died in his sleep. Then the two brothers flew out to Italy to have his body brought back.

Another example of this prior dreaming is given by Shane Miller, in his excellent article, ‘Working with Dreams as Recommended by the Cayce Readings’. What he says also illustrates the ‘follow-up’ dream.

Three days before my father’s death, in 1953. I dreamed that a woman appeared to me on the staircase of his home in Philadelphia. She said, “I have come to offer condolences on ‘the’ death,” and continued on her way upstairs. End of dream. My father had been ill for some time; the end had seemed imminent time and again, but when I went away for the weekend of that week I took enough clothes with me to see me through a possible trip to Philadelphia, in case the warning was realised. No time of fulfilment was given, but the Cayce readings state that in many cases the deceased will appear in a dream to the loved ones to reassure them, after three days.

‘In a general way I reckoned the time of Dad’s death to fall on Saturday; in this case, three days after the warning. The news came at 5.30 on Saturday and the following day we left for Philadelphia directly from there, exactly on schedule.

‘I found that my father had died in a coma, that he had passed on without knowing what was happening. The third night after his passing came and went without a dream of any sort. On the fifth night I had a dream which showed him sitting at a table, with his back towards me, as he fitted the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together. The anagram suggested two things immediately; first that he was unaware of my presence, and second, that he was trying to figure out what had happened to him.’

It can be seen that the ‘follow-up’ dream not only assures the dreamer of the ‘dead’ person’s continued existence, but tells them of their condition. Three further follow-up dreams can be quoted to show their characteristics.

Michael Gornall, my brother-in-law, had this dream shortly after his best friend. Bill Downs had died. (I quote from memory), ‘I saw Bill standing by a train. It was one of the long distance type of trains. He had a bag with him, was dressed in new clothes, and was smoking a pipe, which he never did in real life. He was going on a long journey. The dream left a very deep impression on me.

Another dream of Velta Wilson’s emphasises the characteristics of these ‘death’ dreams. ‘The Ts have moved to another flat, high up, a big flat with many corridors and rooms. Prof. T ... is sitting peacefully in a chair, but his wife wanders about the corridors desperately. I say to her: “What are you worrying about; now all is well.” It turned out that Prof. T ... had died that night.’

Another dream, told me by a friend, although short and simple, yet has a sense of beauty about it. ‘A little while after my father’s death, I dreamt he came to me. Taking his old tobacco tin, he opened it, and showed me, inside, a beautiful jewel.’

As a last example of this type of dream, I will quote from F. W. H. Myers’ book, Human Personality and Its Survival of Bodily Death. The dream and experience happened to Karl Dignowity. It shows how the dream may develop into a waking experience.

‘About a year ago there died in a neighbouring village a brewer called Wunscher, with whom I stood in friendly relations. His death ensued after a short illness, and as I seldom had an Opportunity of visiting him, I knew nothing of his illness nor of his death. On the day of his death I went to bed at nine o’clock, tired with the labours which my calling as a farmer demand of me. Here I must observe that my diet is of a frugal kind; beer and wine are rare things in my house, and water, as usual, had been my drink that night. Being of a very healthy constitution, I fell asleep as soon as I lay down. In my dream I heard the deceased call out with a loud voice, “Boy, make haste and give me my boots.” This awoke me, and, I noticed that, for the sake of our child, my wife had left the light burning. I pondered with pleasure over my dream, thinking in my mind, how Wunscher, who was a good natured, humorous man, would laugh when I told him of this dream. Still thinking on it I hear Wunscher’s voice scolding outside, just under my window. I sat up in my bed at once and listened. but could not understand his words. What could the brewer want? I thought, and I know for certain that I was much vexed with him, that he should make a disturbance in the night, as I felt convinced his affairs might surely have waited till the morrow. Suddenly he came into the room from behind the linen press, stepped with long strides past the bed of my wife and the child’s bed; wildly gesticulating with his arms all the time as his habit was, he called out, “What do you say to this, Herr Oberammann? This afternoon at five o’clock I have died.” Startled by this information, I exclaimed, “Oh. that is not true!” He replied: “Truly. as I tell you; and, what do you think? They want to bury me already on Tuesday afternoon at two o’clock,” accenting his assertions all the while by his gesticulations. During this long speech by my visitor I examined myself as to whether I was really awake and not dreaming.

‘I asked myself: Is this a hallucination? Is my mind in full possession of its faculties? Yes, there is the light, there the jug, this is the mirror, and this the brewer; and I came to the conclusion: I am awake. Then the thought occurred to me. What will my wife think if she awakes and finds the brewer in our bedroom? In this fear of her waking up I turned round to my wife, and to my great relief I saw from her face, which was turned towards me, that she was still asleep; but she looked very pale. I said to the brewer, “Herr Wunscher, we will speak softly, so that my wife may not wake up, it would be very disagreeable to her to find you here.” To which Wunscher answered in a lower and calmer tone: “Don’t be afraid, I will do no harm to your wife.” Things do happen indeed for which we find no explanation - I thought to myself, and said to Wunscher: “If this be true, that you have died, I am sincerely sorry for it; I will look after your children.” Wunscher stepped towards me, stretched out his arms and moved his lips as though he would embrace me; therefore I said in a threatening tone, and looking steadfastly at him with a frowning brow: “Don’t come so near, it is disagreeable to me,” and lifted my right arm to ward him off, but before my arm had reached him the apparition had vanished.’

Needless to say Wunscher had died that afternoon at five o’clock, and was buried on the following Tuesday at two. The time of the burial was settled by relatives in the death room immediately after death. This was because relations at a distance had to be told by telegram.

I hope it is obvious from the foregoing, that not all and every dream of the dead betokens a definite link with them. We often use images of the dead as symbols in dreams dealing with some personal issue. Therefore the message of the dream, as always, must rest upon the meaning unfolded from its symbolism and content. The above dreams will help to determine whether they are contact with the dead, or just symbolical.

TOWARDS THE SPIRIT

I find it difficult to draw the line between dreams occurring in the upper reaches of the Soul, and those referring to the spirit, thus the above heading. I open this section with an unusual dream told me by my eldest son, Mark, when he was about three. Mark’s bedroom at that time looked out over the village, and the church spire dominated the scene. Every Thursday evening was bell ringing practice, and Mark had often asked why the bells were rung. One of my answers, which may explain the dream, was that they called the people to church. He then asked me why people went to church, and I said it was to speak to God. A couple of weeks later we were walking through the churchyard together, and at this time he had never been in this church. He said, ‘I went in there the other night.’ I realised he meant the church, but couldn’t think when. I asked him if his mother had taken him. He was quite firm that he had been in, and he had been alone. Realising I was missing information through doubting questions, I asked him why he had gone. He said, ‘I Went to look for God - but He wasn’t in there.’ I concluded this was a dream.

We have wandered away from the direct reference made earlier under ‘The Search for God’, but it is only a circuitous wandering, to encompass the various aspects of our soul experience. And we must wander some more before we deal with the fulfilment of what my son went in search of. This occurs only when the marriage between soul and spirit occurs, the wedding of the conscious and unconscious, the Prince and the Sleeping Beauty. Once more during sleep, Anna Kingsford dreams clear information about this.

‘Now, there are two kinds of memory, the memory of the organism and the memory of the soul. The first is possessed by all creatures. The second, which is obtained by Recovery belongs to the fully regenerate man. For the Divine Spirit of a man is not one with his soul until regeneration, which is the intimate union constituting what, mystically, is called the “marriage of the hierophant”.

‘This union of the two wills constitutes the spiritual marriage, the accomplishment of which is in the Gospels represented under the parable of the marriage at Cana of Galilee. This divine marriage, or union of the human and Divine wills is indissoluble, whence the idea of the indissolubility of human marriage. And inasmuch as it is a marriage of the spirit of man to that of God, and of the Spirit of God to that of man, it is a double marriage.’

Talking about birth, she says, ‘The process of incarnation, and the method by which the soul takes new forms, are in this wise. When two persons ally themselves in the flesh and beget a child, the moment of impregnation is usually - though not invariably - the moment which attaches a soul to the newly conceived body. Hence, much depends upon the influences, astral and magnetic, under which conception takes place. The pregnant woman is the centre of a whirl of magnetic forces, and she attracts within her sphere a soul whose previous conduct and odic (libido) condition correspond either to her own or to the magnetic influences under which she conceives. This soul, if the pregnancy continues and progresses, remains attached to her sphere, but does not enter the embryo until the time of the quickening, when it usually takes possession of the body, and continues to inhabit it until the time of delivery. A pregnant woman is swayed not by her own will alone, but as often by the will of the soul newly attached to her sphere; and the opposition and cross-magnetisms of these two wills often occasion many strange and seemingly unaccountable whims, alterations of character, and longings, on the part of the woman. Sometimes, however, the moment of impregnation or conception passes without attracting any soul, and the woman may even carry a false conception for some time, in which cases abortion (miscarriage) occurs. ... Some clairvoyant women have been conscious of the soul attached to them, and have seen it, at times as a beautiful infant, at times in other shapes. Children begotten by ardent and mutual love are usually the best and healthiest, spiritually and physically, because the radical moment is seized by love, when the astral and magnetic forces are strongest and most ardent, and they attract the strongest and noblest souls.’

It may be gathered from this that Anna Kingsford (who was a medical doctor, but who eventually gave her life to a study and promulgation of intuitive researches) found in her dreams mention of reincarnation. In fact, several of her dream experiences dealt with her own past lives. She tells us, but does not offer proof, that the information given in dreams on this subject, was substantiated by outer evidence.

Whether this is so or not, whether reincarnation is a fact or not, does not concern us here. All we are concerned with is covering all the aspects of dreams, and some dreams definitely suggest the possibility of reincarnation. Therefore these dreams will be dealt with. These, like the dreams of the dead, are symbolical of death and rebirth. Others seem to be clear-cut memories. The symbolical can be seen in this dream.

‘There was a little copper-coloured boy who found a piece of polished wood shaped like a hand. He found it floating on the water, and used it as a token to buy a riotous and selfish living. After many adventures had befallen him, he realised his error and was so ashamed that he did not Want to face the world. So he decided to float upon the Waters like the stick. So he lay upon the waters and gradually the Waters entered his nose and throat and his head began to roar; and the Waters invaded his brain, and the waters were rushing all inside him and his head roared. Then quite suddenly the Water took him and flung him violently on to dry land, so that he could not even die in the Waters. And the waters scolded and rejected him and left him on dry land to live and to compensate. And the boy lay and looked at the hand, and he knew the meaning of the hand.’

This is a very lovely dream, suggesting in its symbolism that a man cannot find peace even in death, if he has misused the power of his hands, his activity. For death will reject him, and he will have to live again to compensate for his actions.

Here is a less symbolic dream. ‘I was a writer in one of the Germanic countries, in the time of swords and women’s long gowns. But although I was well known for my writings, I was only an educated peasant, and my notoriety was disliked by the “nobility”. It was the “done thing” for me to be “seen” at the balls. In the dream I had arrived at such a ball, at a large house. All evening I danced with the ladies, and was glowered at by the young men. They were looking for a chance to pick a quarrel with me. Eventually one of them was so insulting I had either to rise to the challenge of a duel, or back out as a coward. But I knew the danger of acceptance. The other young men had only one idea in mind, to kick and beat me as soundly as they could. Knowing their intentions I had come prepared. As the duel progressed and the others closed in on me to trip and then beat me I shouted the call of the Zimmermen. At this, the youths from my forest village burst into the hall, and there was a terrific fight. I don’t think any particular side won, but we eventually got out amidst the confusion, and walked through the forest to our homes. As we walked we sang the song of the Zimmermen, a rousing marching tune, and there was a wonderful feeling of brotherhood between us. When I woke I remembered the tune clearly, but did not know the meaning of the word Zimmermen. I looked it up, and found it meant carpenter or woodsman. I felt I had remembered a past life.’

Two excellent examples of dreaming about reincarnation are given by Dr Leslie Weatherhead in his booklet The Case for Reincarnation. He Writes:

‘I met a married couple in Australia who told me their amazing experience. The lady had many psychic experiences by which she felt certain that none of her girlhood acquaintances would have any special significance for her, but if she waited, her true mate would turn up. When she was in her middle thirties, she met her present husband at a public function, and both had an overwhelming and simultaneous conviction that, in an earlier life, they had been man and wife. They have now been happily married for twenty-five years and both are convinced that this is their second incarnation. A year or two before meeting her husband, the lady had a vivid waking dream of being in bed after the birth of a child which she never saw. In the dream, her husband had to leave her in this distress to go on a forlorn hope on behalf of the King. The poignancy of parting was terrible, and in the waking dream experienced, let me repeat, a year or so before she met her husband the lady wept bitterly. When she met her husband, she knew that he was the father of this child and the hero of this dream.

‘Side by side with such an experience we can put one like this: Captain and Mrs Battista, Italians, had a little daughter born in Rome, whom they called Blanche. To help look after this child they employed a French-speaking Swiss “Nanny” called Marie. Marie, the nurse, taught her little charge to sing in French a lullaby song. Blanche grew very fond of this song and it was sung to her repeatedly. Unfortunately Blanche died and Marie returned to Switzerland. Captain Battista writes: “The cradle song which would have recalled to us only too painful memories of our deceased child, ceased absolutely to be heard in the house ... all recollection of it completely escaped our minds.”

‘Three years after the death of Blanche the mother, Signora Battista, became pregnant, and in the fourth month of pregnancy she had a strange waking dream. She insists that she was wide awake when Blanche appeared to her and said, in her old, familiar voice, “Mother, I am coming back.” The vision then melted away. Captain Battista was sceptical, but when the new baby was born in February, 1906, he acquiesced in her also being given the name Blanche. The new Blanche resembled the old in every possible way.

‘Nine years after the death of the first Blanche, when the second ‘ was six years of age, an extraordinary thing happened. I will use Captain Battista’s own words: “While I Was with my wife in my study which adjoins our bedroom. We heard, both of us, like a distant echo, the famous cradle song, and the voice came from the bedroom where we had put our little daughter Blanche fast asleep. ... We found the child sitting up on the bed and singing with an

excellent French accent the cradle song which neither of us had F certainly ever taught her. My wife asked her what it was she was singing, and the child, with the utmost promptitude answered that she was singing a French song. “Who, pray, taught you this pretty song?” I asked her. “Nobody, I know it out of my own head,” answered the child.’

On The Path

In their search for self understanding a question that many thoughtful people ask themselves is, ‘Where am I going?’ or ‘Where will my life lead me?’ The following dream is of a married Woman. In a fascinating way it looks at the various values and opinions people live by, trying to see where they lead.

She says, ‘I am walking with another girl (Who seems to be a shadowy replica of myself) outside the studio. Some young men who also work at the studio are following behind us, calling out to us and joking. I say to the girl, “If they ask us to have a drink with them when we pass this public house we will accept, but if they don’t, we’ll just keep walking.” The young men, however, do not ask us to join them. The girl turns back, but I keep on walking. I go down a subway station at Chancery Lane (near where I work) with the intention of going to Oxford Street. (Oxford Street symbolises Life to me.) I board a tube train. It is quite crowded with young girls, who look rather like myself. Suddenly, a charming, softly spoken woman of about mid-thirty (my age in fact) appears and tells us that we are all required to take part in a film. In fact, we have no choice, as our carriage is being driven off to a huge building. We are all ushered into a large room. There is a rather unpleasant man who seems to be the director. In the middle of the room is an enormous iron wheel, and on the end of each spoke is an iron chair, into which, one by one the “victims” from the train are being clamped by iron bands around the arms and throat. I get a distinct feeling of fear and distrust in spite of the charming woman’s efforts to reassure me. She says, “You will be released when the film is shot.” I do not believe her, and look around for some means of escape.

Meanwhile, my turn to be clamped into the chair is coming very close. The other girls seem to give no feeling of fear, they are submitting to the ordeal like sheep going to the slaughter. I am still aware that in the background the sadistic man is gloating about the whole thing. I make a frantic dash to the doorway. Outside there are tunnels leading in every direction. I run down one only to find the end is blocked by an iron gate, through which, grinning at me maliciously, is a ticket collector. I turn and run down another tunnel and suddenly find myself running along the top of the train in which I had arrived. It is stationary. I peer down when I see a group of young people walking along a street which is parallel to the train. They are dressed in “trendy” clothes, but their eyes are devoid of any expression and their gestures are mechanical. They are walking straight into a cul-de-sac. I decide not to join them; and turn to look the other way. A group of young children and some adults are playing in the street, yet everything is silent and dim. A man is leering at them. The buildings all around are high, dark and poor looking. I manage to bypass them all and find myself looking at a beach scene. Groups of people are sunbathing and playing on the beach. Yet again I am struck by the lifeless and mechanical actions and their expressionless eyes, as if they are living yet dead. I suddenly get a glimpse of the sea beyond them. It is beautiful, alive, moving, a translucent emerald green. The sun is sparkling on it. It is the only alive thing I have seen on my travels. I long to get to it. I will get to it, and drown myself in its purity and beauty. I start to make my way towards it when sand dunes build up before me, making the journey difficult. The sand slips under my feet, but I struggle on. Suddenly, out of the crowd, a matronly woman comes after me, trying to drag me back, saying, “You shall not escape.” I feel anything is better than living like the “puppet-like” people on the beach, and I make a frantic effort to escape her clutches and break away and enter the sea, quite happy to know I will die there.’

This amazing dream has so much information in it, one can no more than hint at its meaning. The dreamer is in fact reviewing the many avenues the world offers in the search for fulfilment, satisfaction and truth. The shadowy figure is her own desires she is aware of but does not express. The men are her desires for attention and affection, and the pub is social pleasure and enjoyment. Outwardly she does not push her desires for love and relaxation, but inwardly there is a desire to ‘turn back’. Unable to find full satisfaction in this direction, she looks for ‘life’ in the unconscious, in herself, deep down in the underground. Within she finds youthful urges for fame, limelight and approval.

The ‘charming’ woman is the outer appearance fame gives, but the cruel, materialistic, grasping man is the real driving force behind these urges, behind this life. The dreamer realises that such a life is more likely to crush than to satisfy. She is then faced by the ticket collector, who probably represents the petty authorities who block our way in life. The trendy’ young people represent attempts to keep up with the Jones’s, which again, is not our true self, but a lifeless mimicry leading to a dead end. The playing children can be called ‘innocence’. If we try to remain innocent of life experience, then like the children and adults in this scene, we run the risk of being an unknowing plaything of the ‘leering’ and perverse. The beach scene is, once more, a direction in which many people seek ‘life’ and fulfilment. It symbolises the healthy outdoor life, the self enjoyment and relaxation of the playboys and playgirls of society. Once more, the dreamer sees this as a puppet like, mechanical existence, and not true ‘life’. But she sees ‘life’ in the sea, which is her inner self, her contact with the forces of life within her. To live in harmony with one’s basic self, with life, instead of only conscious desires, opinions, social pressures, promises fulfilment. But the sand of her intellectual doubts, family duties and social conventions hold her back, until she breaks free, and finds herself.

The Spirit

Turning at last to this aspect of self, apart from contact with the spirit through the guru, or master, dreams concerning spiritual experience are difficult to find. They also do not seem to have any defined characteristics, except perhaps a realisation of eternity, sinlessness, and love. Maybe we can call it a realisation of the eternal spirit behind the transitoriness of mortal life.

First of all, my wife describes an experience she had prior to our marriage.

‘I lay in my bed unable to sleep, and because of this decided to try an experiment. We had been discussing earlier the possibility of emptying the mind completely and I decided to see if this could be done. After quite a time had passed in trying I felt it was impossible, gave up and fell asleep. The next thing I knew I was suspended above my body which was asleep on the bed. I felt as if I had returned to the womb, but it was not the physical womb but the cosmic womb. There was a wonderful feeling of love and bliss and being cared for, that completely enveloped me. There was also an awareness of my oneness with God and every other creature and being in the universe, and yet also remaining an individual. There were several questions on my mind at that particular time, and I found that without actually being told the answers I knew them intuitively. I knew my forthcoming marriage was right; also the doctrine of reincarnation and karma which I had at that time been wondering about. I knew that I was surrounded by a love and protection that made all my actions right because I could not go against that which was right in the face of this experience. I wished that I might stay always in this wonderful state and knew that this was akin to what death felt like, and knowing this one should not fear death which was an expansion of oneself. Gradually I returned to my normal sleep-state and woke up, but the feeling of the experience stayed with me for quite a while afterwards.’

Paul Brunton also reached these unclouded regions of his inner experience. He describes his condition as one of trance rather than sleep; and his experience illumination rather than dream. Certainly when we reach these spiritual aspects of self, they often come as greater consciousness, as opposed to the dimness of many dreams. Nevertheless, I quote his description of what he learnt during his two-hour period of physical unconsciousness.

‘Man is grandly related and a greater Being suckled him than his mother. In his wiser moments he may come to know this. ... Man does not put the true value upon himself because he has lost the divine sense. Therefore he runs after another man’s opinion, when he could find complete certitude more surely in the spiritual authoritative centre of his own being. ... He who looks within himself and perceives only discontent, frailty, darkness and fear, need not curl his lip in mocking doubt. Let him look deeper and longer, deeper and longer, until he presently becomes aware of faint tokens and breath-like indications which appear when the heart is still. Let him heed them well, for they will take life and grow into high thoughts that will cross the threshold of his mind like wandering angels, and these again will become the forerunners of a voice which will come later, the voice of a recondite and mysterious being who inhabits his centre, who is his own ancient self.... The divine nature reveals itself anew in every human life, but if a man walk indifferently by, then the revelation is as seed on stony ground. No one is excluded from this divine consciousness; it is man who excludes himself. ... He who has once seen his real self will never again hate another. There is no sin greater than hatred, no sorrow worse than the legacy of lands splashed with blood which it inevitably bestows, no result more certain than that it will recoil on those who send it forth. Hate will pass from the world only when man learns to see the faces of his fellows, not merely by the ordinary light of day, but by the transfiguring light of their divine possibilities.... All that is truly grand in nature and inspiringly beautiful in the arts speaks to man of himself. Where the priest has failed his people the illumined artist takes up his forgotten message and procures hints of the soul for them. Whoever can recall rare moments when beauty made him a dweller amid the eternities should, whenever the world tires him, turn memory into a spur and seek sanctuary within. Thither he should wander for a little peace, a flush of strength and a glimmer of light, confident that the moment he succeeds in touching his true selfhood he will draw infinite support and find perfect compensation.’ (From A Search in Secret India.)

To end this ‘dream sampler’, I will quote what is surely one of the loveliest dreams ever published. It is experienced and described by J. B. Priestly, and is from his book Rain upon Godshill.

‘Just before I went to America, during the exhausting weeks when I was busy with my Time plays, I had such a dream, and I think it left a greater impression on my mind than any experience I had ever known before, awake or in dreams, and said more to me about this life than any book I have ever read. The setting of the dream was quite simple, and owed something to the fact that not long before my wife had visited the lighthouse here at St Catherine’s to do some bird ringing. I dreamt I Was standing at the top of a very high tower, alone, looking down upon myriads of birds all flying in one direction; every kind of bird was there, all the birds in the world. It was a noble sight, this vast aerial river of birds. But now in some mysterious fashion the gear was changed, and time speeded up, so that I saw generations of birds, watched them break their shells, flutter into life, mate, weaken, falter and die. Wings grew only to crumble; bodies were sleek, and then, in a flash, bled and shrivelled; and death struck everywhere at every second. What was the use of all this blind struggle towards life, this eager trying of wings, this hurried mating, this fight and surge, all this gigantic meaningless effort? As I stared down, seeming to see every creature’s ignoble little history almost at a glance, I felt sick at heart. It would be better if not one of them, if not one of us, had been born, if the struggle ceased for ever. I stood on my tower, still alone, desperately unhappy. But now the gear was changed again, and the time went faster still, and it was rushing by at such a rate, that the birds could not show any movement, but were like an enormous plain sown with feathers. But along this plain, flickering through the bodies themselves, there now passed a sort of white flame, trembling, dancing, then hurrying on; and as soon as I saw it I knew that this white flame was life itself, the very quintessence of being; and then it came to me, in a rocket burst of ecstasy, that nothing mattered, nothing could ever matter, because nothing else was real but this quivering and hurrying lambency of being. Birds, men and creatures not yet shaped and coloured, all were of no account except so far as this flame of life travelled through them. It left nothing to mourn over behind it; what I had thought was tragedy was mere emptiness or a shadow show; for now all real feeling was caught and purified and danced on ecstatically with the white flame of life. I had never before felt such deep happiness as I knew at the end of my dream of the tower and the birds, and if I have now kept that happiness with me, as an inner atmosphere and sanctuary for the heart, that is because I am a weak and foolish man who allows this mad world to come in destroying every green shoot of wisdom. Nevertheless, I have not been quite the same man since. A dream had come through the multitude of business.

Do You Dream Chapter 1 - Do You Dream Chapter 2 - Do You Dream Chapter 3 - Do You Dream Chapter 4 - Do You Dream Chapter 5 - Do You Dream Chapter 6 - Do You Dream Chapter 7 - Do You Dream Chapter 8 - Do You Dream Chapter 9 - Do You Dream Chapter 10 - Do You Dream Chapter 11 part one- Do You Dream Chapter 11 part two - Do You Dream Chapter 12 - Dream Dictionary

Tony's in print Books in the UK or USA

Books - Stories - Poems - Articles/Features - Links - One Stop Shop - Home