How to Hear the Deep Quiet that Sustains Us
When I was in college, I was totally engrossed in learning, studying philosophy, psychology, etc. Equally I was involved in demonstrating for everything from stopping a war to getting funds to feed and clothe children. I felt that the life of the world and my life shared the same stream.
But right now, in this time in history, the link between most of us and those in power has grown too distant. The sense that what I do influences world events or that life has meaning in and of itself is getting lost. Sometimes, I can feel like one overwhelming cloud is darkening all our lives.
But other times⎼ for example, last night. I don’t know why, but even something little can change everything. I went to bed, did a short meditation, said goodnight to my wife and cats. And when I turned out the lights, like usual, the darkness surrounded me. But it was a different sort of darkness, amazingly quiet, except for the soft purring of the cats, and so much like an embrace. The anxiety and worry disappeared. No thoughts were anywhere.
And right there, while resting my head on the pillow, I felt in the middle of everything. The quiet of that specific moment encompassed everything. I can barely describe it now, other than to say the night seemed to open to me. All that was needed was to let myself in. And a sense of peace would be waiting for me. And then it was.
We so benefit from better understanding ourselves. I’d been having a painful and possibly serious health issue. And last week, I needed to undergo a medical procedure to help heal it. The night before the procedure, I was anxious. Since I had to wake up earlier than normal to get to the hospital, and my condition often interfered with sleep, I was worried about how much sleep I would get.
But I fell asleep just fine. And soon entered a dream. Without going into too much detail, my dream-self heard, and then saw through a window, someone outside our house. There was snow on the ground. The person was walking away from me and suddenly fell into the snow. I got up to go out after them. But before I could, the dream changed location.
I was in a huge barnlike structure occupied by a group of maybe ten, maybe twenty people. I couldn’t see any of them clearly. And someone was just out of sight, partially hidden. But I could clearly feel this mystery person was important and was getting ready to lead the group in an activity.
However, one person in the group, who I felt to be an outlier, an independent sort, started chanting Ooommm. Or AUM. On their own. A few others joined in. I joined in. This was a simple OM, very natural. It’s a practice I first learned in a college improvisational theatre group. Just taking a breath in; and as we breathed out, we let the air pass through the vocal cords and naturally vibrate out the sound. Concentrating on the feel of the sound, we then heard the silence we created in and around us.
But some people, people associated with the mystery figure, didn’t like what we were doing. From the darkness, the mystery person or leader commanded us to stop. But we didn’t. It felt good to OM. Someone from the mystery group came over and tried to put their hand over my mouth and stop the chant. But I, we, shook them off and continued.
Before I continue the narration, I must explain that I also use a CPAP machine to assist my breathing when asleep. And at that moment in the dream, another layer of my mind realized the OM was going on in tune with the CPAP. They were actually one.
And the dream changed again. I was in an old house with high, expansive ceilings. Or maybe, what I thought was a house was a classroom. And despite the pain and medical condition I had suffered, I felt like jumping; I felt, without any doubt, I could jump all the way to the ceiling. My wife appeared and I called to her. “Look. Look.”
And I leaped, but slowly. It was more like floating than leaping. And when my head touched the ceiling, it felt like a massage, not a bump. I stayed up there for one, two, three minutes, seemingly weightless. And then I gently drifted, floated down so slowly, and out of the dream.
Later, when awake, I told the dream to my real wife in her daytime-self. She commented that the OM was me keeping myself breathing, and alive. She said the body at the beginning was me; and the me at the end was saving the me at the beginning.
Sometimes, our dreams, and those closest to us, can show us exactly what we need to see.
We just don’t know so much of who we are or of what we’re capable. Our dreams, if we look at them, can reveal a great deal that our conscious mind does not or cannot access. We can also get to know ourselves better by becoming mindful of our subtle bodily sensations, feelings, patterns of thoughts and emotions. We can meditate, chant, walk with mind in that quiet space before words arise and where the universe is born.
And we know this⎼ we are all woven into this life together. And we all benefit by recognizing and acting in accord with this fact.
*Many of these links provide practices to try if you like.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock
A phenomenal dream, Ira! Thank you for sharing it and your insights. May you heal enfolded by the peace you experienced in the dark before the dreaming…
Jenna