Unleash The Power of Your Mind

I’ve always been a strong believer in the power of dreams. This may sound like a cliche to some, but to me personally dreams were always the best way for my shadow side to communicate with me; the symbology of these dreams were sometimes cryptic, but at most times the signifance of certain images were very clear to me.

Some years ago, I had a dream that I was at a party … I say party, more like a drug den. I was in a room full of hippies and junkies, all lying on cushions and beanbags, and there were bongs, pipes and needles all over the place. I was part of that crowd; I can’t recall if I was actually using a needle myself in the dream, but I was pretty wasted. There was a feeling of sheltered security in that place, a feeling that the outside world didn’t matter, that we all were fed up with the world and just wanted to retreat in this narcotic fuelled haven.

At one point I looked up and a huge figure standing above me. I looked around, no-one else seemed to notice, as they were all in their own little worlds. The figure became clearer: it was a huge man, and looked be a Mesoamerican Indian … Toltec or Mazatec … he looked down at me sternly and then suddenly bent down and grabbed my ankles.

I was dragged out of the room. I tried to get the attention of my fellow junkies, but they weren’t interested or was unaware what was happening. The man dragged me from the room and through a corridor, then out into a garden. Once he got me outside he proceeded to beat the crap out of me.

The dream shifted to another scene, where I was on a bus riding through the Mexican desert. Funnily enough, the bus was full of British folk, all talking bullshit, ranting on about the most banal and trivial gossip and issues. I couldn’t take it any more. I called out to the bus driver and demanded that he stop. I would rather brave the desert alone than be among these irritating people.

The bus driver stopped without protest and let me out. The bus then sped off, although I could still hear the yammering of the passengers in my ears. I walked through the desert for some time, it was actually quite cool, the sky was cloudy.

Then I heard some kind of engine sound behind me … I looked back and saw a cloud of sand, then emerged two figures in motorbikes, advancing in my direction. I they got closer, and this is the weird bit, I saw two indian sorcerers on the bikes. One was old with white hair, the other younger, with black hair. They were don Juan and don Genaro from the Carlos Casteneda books … I know, it does sound bizarre.

They came after me as if to run me down. I ran like the wind, I think I was screaming, as they almost collided with me and swerved at the last minute, roaring with laughter.

That’s all I remember of the dream. I’m still trying to work it out.