Winging On

Sweating Dreams

part of: The Hidden Land

by Lora of Many Generations

Sweating Dreams

Maria rose gently up from the deeps of sleep. The futon was just as deep. It curled its protecting arms around her hips…shoulders…head, called her back down. She snuggled in, sinking again. The air around her nose sticking up out of the blankets was cave cool. It smelled of running water, fresh earth, and unseen forms of life hidden deep in the recesses of the cave as it folded inward toward the core of the Hidden Land, as she folded back inward toward her own core.
She appeared suddenly on a tall hill sticking high out of the trees of the Hidden Land. Blinking confusedly as she entered fully into the dream, she looked around to get her bearings. From where she was standing she could see for miles to the horizon on either side: an unbroken vista of wild forest Land…rivers, lakes, and in the distance a green plain…farther, an ocean heaving under the light of two moons. Two sharp Warriors of the Mind, compassionate and implacable stood on either
side of her. “Are you ready,” asked the one to her right. He was tall, beautiful and black, swathed in scarlet at his hips. His eyes were electrosheen blue and burning. A great heat emerged from him and surged through the whole of Maria’s being. She felt simultaneously protected and excited. To her left stood a sapphire blue woman with azuridian eyes and long, silver hair. Her whole being shimmered scintillation. The air around her smelled of sand, wind, and ocean water, open and clean with constant motion. Maria felt simultaneously fascinated and threatened. Caught between her emotions and the fire and water emanated by these two powerful beings, Maria struggled for balance.

“Good, good, work with it” said the man. A sparkling light in his eyes danced playfully over a vacumn of dead seriousness. That vacumn wound all the way down through the whole of his life straight into the Mind of the Universe itself…the subatomic reality of his own being. Maria resisted getting sucked in by turning her attention to her own inner reality. Yes, it was still there, warm, dark, familar – her own inner window on all that Was, Is or Ever Shall Be. “Stay home with me,” came the voice she had heard all her life, “and wander everywhere else free!”

“Yes, she is almost ready,” said the woman.

Maria turned and regarded the woman closely. Somewhere in the back of her mind her inner voice said, “Yes, you are dreaming. Still, she is real. Speak with her. Ask her whatever you will.”

Maria stumbled momentarily. In this inner world stumbling stole the breath and clamped the heart in an icy fist. The man she thought understood, but the woman? The woman she feared and did not know why. Many breaths, many poundings of her heart later she finally asked, “Who, who are you?”

“I am myself,” the woman replied. “That is the only answer there is.”

“But what is your self?” Maria pressed, suddenly feeling urgent.

“You wish to pin me down and examine me?” the woman replied tauntingly.

Maria felt her breath being sucked out into the vacumn leading down to this woman’s window.

“The soft breath of the sea at dawn,
the swipe of the eagle’s claw
clutching tight the breast of the rabbit running,
the tickle of a kitten’s fur laughing over my cheek,
the roar of a river one thousand straight feet down
through a rocky canyon,
eating into the Heart of the Universe,
revealing ancient plans,
that she is,
and so much more!” laughed the man.

“Only metaphor will do you see?” he asked. “In fact, a whole book of metaphors sharp enough to reveal the working aspects of her life.”

The woman tilted her head slightly, arched an eyebrow and looked deep into Maria. “It is so with me, with you, with him, with everything and everyone. Waste no more time asking for quick easy answers that, once heard, will explain everything to you indisputably and forevermore! Ride the wave of the moment sister, ride it open, seeking, and unafraid!”

In that moment Maria saw not a woman but an unfolding of space and time, energies intersecting, weaving, raveling, dancing. Where the man had stood before, the proud warrior lover image fell away. He was a million things and no thing, here and gone, bye and by, kind and hateful, proud and humble, all things in due course and measure of time and place.

Blinking stuporously, Maria looked up into the deeps of the night sky. The two moons of the Hidden Land careened there in their wild course. In that moment their skins flew off and revealed the pulsing energies within that set them and held them in their orbits. Their own regal weavings, helping to create the harmonious energies of the Hidden Land were revealed as vectors of force and pulses of song. Stunned Maria fell to the ground, feeling her own vectors of force laughing.

Maria had always conceived of the Universe as being based on energies, interweaving energies. In theory many humans always had. The ancient Hindus had embodied the insight in the myth of the Dance of Shiva. But she had never really felt the reality of that insight in her bones until this moment.

“What you feel in your bones, you can make use of to transform many things,” the glowing woman said.

Maria laughed. “I never really let this knowing come into my bones before now.”

“It is often so,” the woman acknowledged. “Until we allow the knowing in all the way, we know nothing, though we may say many things.”

“It is clear knowing is truly taking place if transformation can be observed. Where there is no transformation, there is no implantation of knowing!” the man asserted.

Maria felt she knew what he was getting at, but wasn’t entirely sure.

The woman, watching Maria intently added, “It does no good to collect facts that are not implanted in the bones. They will create no transformation. They will simply accumulate in the mind and confuse.”

“They will obfuscate the moment,” the man added.

“Ensuring chaos,” the woman finished.

“It is because your race has prevented knowing from being implanted in your bones that chaos prevails and seems inevitable,” the man said.

“For transformation, which is the consequence of knowing, produces change, which your race fears above all things,” the woman added.

“Because change upsets the structures present which facilitate the rule of some and the servitude of many,” Maria heard herself say.

“Indeed,” the man agreed.

“It upsets the grasping,” Maria gasped, vistas of knowing surging within her like a tsunami ballooning toward the Land of her mind. “The grasping at youth, at life, at passing familiar emotional states, facts, at people, social position, things…change takes these things out of our grasp.”

“And opens you to all that Is, Was, or Ever Shall Be,” the woman continued.

“How is this bad?” asked the man.

“It ensures life will never be dull,” added the woman. “That growth will be continuous, spontaneous, delicious…always!”

“Life and dullness aren’t the issues, unfortunately,” Maria answered. “The grasping has been the object of human attention for so long we don’t know how to do anything else.”

The man and the woman sat down on the hill and just stared at her as she lay. They seemed impatient. Maria sat up and looked at them carefully, deeply. “I know what you are saying is true,” she finally said.

“So stop grasping and live,” the woman said.

“Is it that easy, when the rest of our race is still grasping?” Maria squeaked.

The man laughed uproariously. Maria felt foolish. “Good,” said the man. “Feel foolish.”

“It is perfectly within your power to alter yourself, to let go of the grasping. What does it matter if no one else in your life ever does? You will be free!” the woman stated firmly. “You aren’t responsible for their choices, their joys, their agonies. They are. They are free to learn from your example or not.”

“But will I have to walk alone?” Maria whined.

The man seemed about at the end of his patience. “She is not ready!” He stated flatly to the woman.

“Perhaps, one more moment and we’ll see,” the woman replied.

“Are you walking alone now?” she asked Maria.

Maria sat back on her mental haunches. The faces of Shekina, Marcia, Johnmarro, Kendra, Robert, Moira came flashing through. She thought of the deep struggles of their forbears, Robert and Moira’s, and of the First and Second Generations wandering in the wastelands of the early years of the Third Millenium. She wasn’t alone. She had no army at her back, but she wasn’t alone. Then she looked within to the dark, warm place of her Meeting with the Universe and she knew she had never been alone. Her heart ballooned with strength inside her.

“I can do it. I can let go of the grasping,” she finally said. “I can ride the wave of the moment fully…willingly.”

“Prove it,” said the man.

“How,” Maria stammered.

“All the days of your life in every choice you make,” the woman demanded.

In this moment they were fierce, beautiful, implacable. They watched her intensely, waiting for her response with savage breaths. She was terrified by their harsh demeanor.

“They mean to wake you or give you something to remember in your sleep all the rest of your days!” the voice in the back of her mind said softly, and none too gently itself.

Maria breathed deeply, exhaled completely and relaxed. “I can do that,” she said at last.

Shaking she awoke drenched in sweat. It was late afternoon in the Hidden Land. Hugging her chest she staggered up out of the futon and looked around in confusion.

The cave.


Her companions were nowhere in sight.

There was the bathing pool in the back. She had to have water on her skin right then. Swaying uncertainly she toddled back and undressed, slipped into the tepid water, sat on a smoothly carved stone just the right shape to cradle a backside. Almost immediately she felt the core of her bones flower open. Laying her head back on a green carved stone just the right shape to cradle a head, she looked up at the ceiling. There overhead was the same kind of crystalwork she had seen in the shrine back home. But this one had no image shining in it. A clear, cool light came from it. She felt filled with peace.

A voice from the front of the cave caught her attention, “She has awakened.”

It was Uhl. “Hello lovely, I see you have returned to us from hard, sweaty work in dreams,” she giggled.

“Yeah…yeah,” Maria said.

“Would you like to share that with us?” Uhl asked. “In the crystal.”

“What do you mean?” Maria asked, intrigued.

“The crystal is a device within which we can place our minds, our hearts, our beings and live out in sensation the contents of dreams, feelings, ideas, anything we can conceive. It is our workspace, our playspace, part of the community of our being,” Uhl replied.

Maria just gaped at her. “Ah…sure…I’d love to try that actually.”

“Then, when the others arrive, we will do that,” Uhl said, obviously delighted.

to be continued….

Related by Lora, Twilit Majz of the Fourth Generation