Book 3 Origins
Not long ago I wrote, I’m not writing stories in hope of anyone, besides myself, ever reading them. I’m not craving fame nor fortune for these efforts. Indeed it is an effort that is ripe with the potential to cause karma. Karma I don’t need and that I don’t desire. So instead, I write this story to convey the liberation that has become available to all sentient beings. The liberation that is available for those who read this as well as for those who do not. And that’s what I meant. I mean, that is, the part about karma causes me great worry. But the drive to write is from a source more grounded than karma. At least I hope it is.
“Give me a paragraph or two to explain.” That’s how it started. I’ll explain it this way. Most nights when I go to sleep I start with clear mind meditation. I’ve practiced this for more than forty years. It starts by waking me to the pillow and the bed. Laying on my back, legs outstretched, arms at my sides. I turn my thoughts to see this place in the bed as a meditation. Neither comfortable, snuggling into the mattress, pillows, and sheets, nor uncomfortable. Just being here in a meditation pose. My body recognizes the mind and my mind recognizes the body. The task for the body works to calm itself and relax. My mind does the same. No aches, no pain. No worries, no running dialogue. Mind and body in equipoise.
To tell the truth, I often have to start over from the beginning a dozen or more times before the mind and body reach harmony. What follows is worth the several minutes spent starting over, and over, and over again. Well, truth be told, you’re not supposed to tell people what happens when you reach the various Jhanas stages or whatever because when we hear what someone else got from meditation we strive to experience the same or better sort of thing. Totally makes sense when you hear or read that. At the same time who wants to get just a little hint or something substantial to start with. Otherwise, after the third or fourth… legs outstretched my arms at my side, blah blah blah. We just close our eyes and fall asleep.
Here’s some straight-up room temperature, peaty Isla Scotch. Let’s agree, a shot of Ardbeg. Anyway, analogy aside, I walk into the dream state and I can see fingers tapping away on a keyboard. I can hear the keys getting pressed. Sometimes the typing is fast and other times it is slow. The dream begins to pull back away from the keyboard and fingers. I can see the blurry frame and well-lit monitor of what looks to be a laptop. As the dream pulls further back the room begins to come into view, but nothing is actually in clear focus. Slowly, back and back, and away from the laptop, the dream opens.
Eventually, I can see the person sitting at the dining room table, typing away. There must be five or six empty chairs and no one else in the room. Just one person typing away. The room is dimly lit with what seems like a wall sconce positioned just behind the typist. I’m floating and observing and just starting to wonder if this dream could be any more boring when I’m suddenly aware the typing has stopped. The typist has left the table. I heard a door close and it was that sort of noise where I wondered, was that in the dream, or is someone in the house? I chose to stay awake in the dream.
As the dream moves me toward the laptop this time instead of away. Closer and closer until all I can see is what the typist had written. I scrolled all the way to the top of the writing.
Here’s what it was about.