so much gold within

a dream of gold. a teaching dream. in the dream i am in a holy event. the participants sit around tables with assigned seating. there are no name cards. just some gold jewelry that belong to that person. so there i am, going around to search for my seat. i am sure i had put down my jewelry to save myself a seat. i go around table to table. while i am admiring all those golden splendor, o how gorgeous that piece is, o how spectacular this bracelet looks, i cannot find my jewelry. i wake up filled with the question, where is my jewelry, where is my seat? at the same time the images of all those beautiful gold stay with me. as i type this i can still see the purity of all that gold, the masterful design and craftsmanship of them all.

what is this about? i go into morning meditation with this question. very quickly a message comes from within. in the form of a question. who do you think those gold belong to? bing, bong, boom, i get it. all that gold are within me. they don't belong to anyone else. they are part of me, part of who i am. just like that my understanding shifts dramatically and expands exponentially. why do i have to search for gold and find a place to sit when i already have a storehouse of gold within and the most sublime seat in my own heart. 

her father is god

is this place, vaidyagrama, an ayurveda hospital/ashram? or ashram/hospital? hard to tell where does one end and the other begins. every day six am a smiling, serene man brings medicine to the door. six fifteen bell rings ripple through the campus. the call to morning prayer and meditation. a full menu of spiritual medicine. indeed. let me count. a collection of vedic mantras. what else? the hymn thousand names of vishnu, one who sustains everyone and everything in the universe. more than one hundred verses. pranayama, breathing exercise. repeating the ganesh mantra 108 times. by the time i walk out of the hall, welcomed by the misty dawn lights i am so grateful that i have this body to sing praises to the one who has taken form of all the organs and systems that make up me.

this morning i walk into the hall and i see something that moves me extra, extra deeply. dr ramdas, the other medical director of vaidyagrama, is leading the prayer. check this out. his little daughter spreads over his lap, a natural crib, sound asleep. dr ramdas begins to chant. my heart instantly melts and soars all at once. his booming voice pulses a golden timbre. the vibrations are steeped in the sweetness and wisdom of knowledge which was seen by sages and seer thousands of years ago. his conviction in the path he has chosen and his resolve in following this timely and timeless tradition are loud and clear and infectious. it is pure nectar. pure truth is truly sweet.

at one point i look up from the text of thousand names of vishnu i see something marvelous to behold. the little girl clings to her father with all her tiny limbs and mind and soul as he sends out sacred sound in all directions dispensing sublime knowledge on how to live a pure life that is filled with joy and purpose. a bright realization appears in me. the man walks the talk. from this little girl’s eye she has no doubt that her father is a manifestation of god. 

this is what a father is ought to be. imagine how the child is being nourished to her core. imbibing vedic mantras while sleeping in her father’s lap. i recognize i am having an experience of thousand names of vishnu, the one who takes the shapes and forms of all. i feel so fortunate to be in the healing hands of such great souls. they have a grand dream and they roll up their sleeves and make it happen. the little girl is learning the life fundamentals by example. 

what doe it take to have that level of faith?

making dream real is messy business. not for the fainthearted. make no mistake. i am not complaining. hwubby's book is picked up by a major national distributor. it is coming out with a new edition. exciting, right? you bet it is. what it also means is a tsunami of tasks descending upon us. we are fortunate enough to hire a publicity person. that said, we are doing a lot of work ourselves. like galley send. the publicity person understands our situation. she thinks a lot of hwubby's book, sees nice demand for it, so she is willing to give us the media list and we take care of the logistics of sending galleys to magazines and publications. it's phenomenal that she is willing to do this because such lists are her bread and butter. anyhow the big mailing day falls on the day of occupy oakland. hwubby and i really want to go to show our support for the cause. we figure we would start early, be done by early afternoon and then go to downtown oakland. i thought i was prepared for the unexpected. but from the get go everything took longer than i thought it would be. for instance it's difficult to read the tiny printout that got more smudged after going through failed internet faxing and email attachment. is it 'fl 2'? or 'f 12?' bickie? or bickle? o, how about this? i put three mailing lists on three sheets in one excel workbook? then i can't get the merge function to work on the second and third sheet. just like that, one thing piles up on top of another. at one point hwubby says, stop talking to me like that, you are dictatorial. and i thought i was just trying to move things along and get things done. oy yoi yoi.

we did meet the post office's closing time. but by then it's after seven thirty. could we still go out to downtown oakland? maybe. but i didn't. i just couldn't see how i could do that and still get up early. am i then just looking out for my self-interest and awol-ing for something bigger than myself? well, i have to be honest. i was too tired to think straight. and even if i am not i would still have done what i did because in the moments when we had to make choices to move the thing in one way or another it's hard to make myself do anything that might jeopardize hwubby's dream that's been a long time in the making.

as i read today's torah portion where yhvh calls abram to leave his life as it is i have such renewed respect for abram's move. what does it take to have that level of faith? i want it.

all this grandeur are within me.

i awake at three thirty. the body is still soaking in the massage the evening prior. the mind is filled with the sweet and gentle warmth of the bed. i fall back asleep and dream. how to capture it in one sentence? a big, bold nightmare that flips into the sublime. here it is. i run like crazy from someone who wants to rob me. it's dark but the roads are wide and open. periodically i look back. the guy is still after me but i am ahead. earlier in the dream hwubby and i are examining some jewelry. all set with diamonds of all colors. yellow. pink. so vivid. so crystal clear. i can't take my eyes off a tiny evening clutch bedecked with pink diamonds. a really adorable little thing and i know hwubby is getting it for me. in the dream the thought that goes through me is this. i don't really need this. i keep it as a thought. there are thoughts that are better left unsaid. anyway, getting back to the dream. i am just about bursting with exasperation not knowing when i could stop running like this and the anguish vanish. i am at peace with what it is. i run with a deep sense of calm. now i notice how grand the urban landscape is around me. i am able to appreciate its scale. how sparkling the roads are. before i know it darkness becomes light. i am chanting in a dazzlingly white room with sky high ceiling with my guru. a simple, beautiful chant praising the guru principle that exists in all. every tiny lilt lifts the ceiling a little higher. the momentum of the chant builds and builds and the room becomes bigger and bigger. it all seems so natural.

what's my point here? all this grandeur, all this brightness and all this beauty are within me. what else is not, really.

i am that big.

there is monumental world of grandeur within. this is what i get from a dream the night prior. in the dream i am taking a day off and go to check out a site in central district, prime real estate in hong kong. what do i see? construction sites all around me as far as eyes can see. not the usual skyscrapers that hong kong is world famous for. granite pedestal that is a street long. fluted marble columns that pierce the silvery gray cosmos. and then there is this pink limestone sitting lion. the top of is head doesn't look finished but i am not sure. i can't see the ends of it wherever i turn. it's that huge.

what does this dream say to me? first and foremost it strikes clear beyond doubt that all this grandeur is inside me. i am that big.

entrenched attachment to a warm bed

breakthrough this night. mind coming out of a nice dream which dissipates moments upon awake. body relaxed and still. a soundless voice appears. without words it is the distillation of why it's such a seemingly endless struggle to get up before early. i see my childhood and teenage years, all the way into young adulthood, encapsulated in one image. sleeping on coarse, cold concrete. walls are pieces of aluminum sloppily held together with holes everywhere. no roof. just another piece of odd shaped aluminum precariously sitting on some thin wood bars. mice scratch wood and aluminum, whatever they could lay their sharp claws on. cockroaches and centipedes roam like they are in the wild. come to think of it i was hospitalized for a week because of a poisonous bite from a centipede in a ear. the child can't wait to get up out of fear, anxiety and over-the-top worry. and so it strikes me crystal clear. of course there is an entrenched attachment of a warm, comfy bed in a safe and quiet place. in fact, that week in the hospital was the happiest days of my childhood. i had my own bed. night nurse fed me milk and cookie. anyway the body is not of a child anymore. but the trauma is lodged in the firmament of being.

so how come i have no trouble getting up super early for retreats? because the allure of immersing in the sublime inner peace and security is irresistible. it's the real thing. it overrides the mental circuitry. but for the allure to become permanent it takes sustained spiritual work over a long period of time with full faith and surrender. and so i get out of bed very encouraged. it's just another residual tendency. i am the supreme, sublime self and that's that. i sit for an hour in the sweetness of the self. i have a deep sense that something heavy has been lifted. i feel that much lighter. if i didn't have things to take care of i could just sit and sit and sit.

soul gas. karmic fart.

hwubby awakes and says, many bad dreams. i say, do you remember any of it? he says, nooooh. i say, the yogic scriptures say that we put up less resistance in sleep than during waking state, these dreams could and may be stuff that have to come up in order to go. i can see something going through hwubby's mind. he says, i see, the soul passing gas. i chuckle and say, that's right, karmic fart. what a relief. gas come. gas go. no need to get into it like going through the garbage bin contents.

relaxed alertness. even-keeled joy.

as i marvel more and more the crystalline clarity and purity of the visuals in the dream, how refined and luscious those figures of smoke are i realize why the scriptures call this physical body gross. that doesn't take away the holiness of this body, the temple in which we know our own true nature. it's just that i have the experience of what is real. in this morning's meditation it is so clear that the space into where the exhalations dissolve is both within me and holding me. i no longer get frustrated because the mind can't wrap around it. i gently place attention in the movement of the incoming and outgoing breaths, don't try to force anything or judge anything, like, am i doing the right thing, should the inhalations be longer, shouldn't i equalize the inbreaths and outbreaths. blah blah blah.

the other thing i realize recently is i have not been taking enough time and care to come of meditation. because the mind kind of has this habitual way of judging my meditations. o, it's not deep, you are aware of your body, you don't see thunder and lightnings and angels. so usually when i hear the timer i take a few rounds of deep breaths and get up from the asana. what happens is i would get drowsy and even dizzy during the day. but since i have been giving time and attention to bring myself out of meditation my energy during the day is steadier. there is a heightened sense of alertness in a relaxed manner. i am tied tighter and tighter into this state of even-keeled joy. it's so easy now to enjoy things and people and not get attached or bothered.

dream in me? me in dream?

the visuals in this dream has been so very much in my consciousness that, to me, it's as real as, if not more than, all that in the physical world. here's that particular fragment that is absolutely my top fave. i'm ready to go to work, on my way and look to my left down a street. all that i see is figures and an old tree. they are made of black smoke. through them and against them, as the backdrop to this dream canvas i can see gentle, tender fish-belly-grey pre-dawn lights. the vista is exquisite and lovely beyond anything i have seen or imagined. i move in closer. one of the figures turns in my direction, gives me this look that startles me and stops me in my track for a fraction of an instant before i realize i am moving backwards at the speed of...a canon ball. i find myself moving at an ever accelerating speed, so fast that i cannot see anything around me but blurs. the sense of speed is so real that it carries over into the waking state for quite a while. i see anxious feeling appear, and a thought. where's hwubby? as i look at this and i can't help it because the beautiful composition of the scene and the look from that ethereal, smoky figure are, as i type this, vivid as ever. their brightness don't dim a bit. so as i reflect on this i realize the mind cannot wrap around the paradox that this vast dream space is holding my awareness while the dream happens all within me. the other thrilling insight is this. it is the benchmark of progress when dreams are bright and vivid. and by the way, here's a huge mystery. i go to sleep in the dark. i awake in dark. so by what light is dream illumined? where is the light source? there has to be a powerful source because the colors in the rest of the dream are just vibrant and strong. really. at one point i gaze into this sparkling white top that i am wearing and marvel at the marigold yellow of the poop in the toilet. aaah. what else but the light of my own sublime self.

here's to dream being real.

leaving for seattle in a little bit. hwubby's one act opera is in production there. he has worked so hard for such a long time to make it happen. and it is happening. he didn't give up even when it seemed utterly impossible to pull it off. here's to dream being real. bravo, hwubby.

disrupted sleep. beautiful dream.

don't sleep well these days. takes a while to fall asleep and keeps coming in and out of it. anyhow last night i dream in one of these short sleeps. beautiful and bright dream. a huge crowd gathers in front of the room hwubby and i live in for a spiritual event. our room is one of several in the back of this space. a huge space. so crowded i have to crawl my way through rows and stacks of people. at one point i have to snake around and under a grand piano. once the event is over people flow out in all directions. i look up and see a splendid vista behind the crowd. i am gazing into spectacular gorge just before sunrise. the top slightly flat-bottomed v is filled with misty, lovely, exquisite pre-dawn lights. the bottom inverted flat-bottomed v is shimmering, midnight blue water. two vast triangular pitch-black masses form the awe-inspiring gorge. then the next scene is this bustling eating scenario after the event. people sit around little tables nibbling. i see this swami, an elegant beloved woman in her seventies. she is beaming. she says to me, in her lyrical voice and kind tone, kind of hungry, need some food. i scurry around very concerned i will not be able to find food good enough for her. i find this old woman selling dollops of chapati dough. i get some only to realize i don't have a rolling pin. anxiety is building up fast. just before i awake it comes to me. toast and tea. i feel this relief. of course. toast and tea are enough and good enough.

aaaah. the remnants of unworthiness, inadequacy.

by what light do we see in dream?

there's a recurring meditation experience that i have been trying to put it into words. actually it's also something about dreams as well. since i have to start somewhere, and, by the way, isn't it true of anything we have to take care of and we don't quite know where to begin, just start somewhere, do something, right now. anyhow. let me try. i meditate in darkness. i even blindfold the eyes. so how comes in the world of closed eyes, i sense, or, more accurately, see, with the closed eyes, this darkness with such luminosity? take this morning, for instance, the moment i close the eyes, there's this incredible expanse of greenish-white brilliance shining over the physical darkness. it's like i am looking at the darkness through a spotlight that is larger than the inner being. meanwhile i am aware of the contours and confines of the physical body. yet the inner being and this field of light don't seem to have any limits. so is this light in the body? or is the body immersed in this light? at this point, the mind can't take it. it says, too much. so i let the thought thread pause at this one. i go to sleep in darkness. so by what lights do i see those vibrant colors, vivid shapes and forms in dreams? where do all those lights in the dream world come from?

for the remainder of the meditation i just revel in the deliciousness of the easy breath which, by the way, is naturally deepening and lengthening. as i sense i am emerging like a diver coming up gradually from the ocean depths i hear this. the light of pure awareness. bingo. that's it. in those moments i am in touch with the light of pure consciousness by which physical darkness is illumined and dreams are lit up. and i own all of that. wow. 

luminosity of darkness. 1099-misc

i am stepping up my daily spiritual practices with a couple of things. double the time of singing aum to about thirty minutes. for the last couple of years i've been doing thirty-six rounds according to the number of pearls on the necklace i use as a counter. that's about fifteen minutes. now i double the effort. secondly i meditate before going to bed.

whoa. wow. on the first night i dream. it's like i watch the dream with a different prescription. it's so much brighter. the colors are more vibrant. the contours of shapes and forms are incredibly sharper. at one point someone shows me the details of an elaborate wreath that is made of fresh lush green leaves. i can feel the life pulsing in the leaf veins. in another scene, an adorable, chubbo-chubbo toddler comes to my embrace. the amazing life throbbing beneath her translucent, egg-white smooth, peachy complexion is irresistible. since then it's been like that every night. what about the morning meditation with the thirty minutes of aum singing? how about this? the mind plunges into this bright, quiet, open space with the lingering resonance of the last round. sweet warmth oozes from deep within into the limbs, all the way to the fingertips. the sensation of fullness is exquisite. i'm absorbed in awe and wonder at the luminosity of darkness. there's truly nowhere else i'd rather be than in my own being.

then, check this out. as i emerge from the depths of this vast world of black light i hear this crystal clear. 1099. my inner self really never ceases to amaze me. this is the time of the year to start looking into who to send 1099-misc to. after initial moments of lurking anxiety, which i am aware that it is residual tendency, the inner self instructs step by step what to do about it. there you have it. lofty, mystical experience together with the most practical stuff all rolled into one sitting. can't get better than this. so thrilling.

homesteader treat in bamboo nursery

this is a dream and reality, one and the same. i wake up and find myself in a expertly built house within a bamboo nursery. we're visiting hwubby's best friend, a truly master builder. the frosty windows tell me how cold outside is. but the air indoor feels fresh, alive and just lovely. i ask the boff, and why do i call him by 'the boff?' it comes from the word 'boffin.' someone who can cobble together anything. anyhow i ask the boff, what did you do to the air? he says, super insulated. somehow i hear this tiny voiceless whisper from within. there's more to it than this. sure enough, his wify says, right on the heel of the inner message, her index finger making swirls, there's ventilation. here's what they do. he insulates the walls really well. as for the double-pane glass doors he puts in two layers of glasses and three layers of air. the air indoor is not stagnant but gets gently marinated with periodic infusions of fresh air that is scented with the innumerable bamboos on the property.

then we sit down to a real homesteader treat. a spread of jams and jelly from fruits picked on the property. my fave is quince jelly. it has this ethereal, delicate flavor. fantastic with the fresh off-the-griddle gluten-free waffles.

abundance all around.

out of coppola self, into my own self

i go to sleep with this question. how do i bring the immortal world and human world together? i don't have the answer. not yet. not as far as the regular conscious mind goes. but i do remember something hwubby says, maybe the character dreams, and then the dreamworld, little by little, seeps into her world until she can no longer tell they are separate.

anyhow yesterday i read two pieces of spiritual writings, one by my guru, the other by a top fave swami who has been serving the guru's mission to impart the teaching of the supreme self for decades with unwavering devotion. guess what? both include revelations through dreams. and guess what? i dream last night. here's how it goes. actually i should say this is what i recall.

the entryway to the dream is like a rippling lake surface. i can see gorgeous dancing lights that are refractions of what's on the other side. i go straight through like walking into a lake without getting wet. beyond the shifting surface is a world where time does not go by in a linear fashion. how do i know that? i see a spread of beautiful, vibrant sprouts. one patch catches my eye. tiny lavender buds. they flower into full four-petaled bloom in an unhurried manner in front of my watch. the scent is sublte and intoxicating.

then i see sophie coppola. she is in a spaghetti strap dress. pink and fitted with a floral, ruffled hemline. i see she is frustrated trying to explain something to an audience and getting more and more so. in the dream i am calm and centered. i simply walk up. i say to her, is this what you want to say, it's probably the language. immediately she looks utterly relieved.

i tell hwubby the dream. he says, you are now in this frustrated coppola self. you just have to go back into your own self. you have a question. you ask your self. and trust what comes to you.

thanksgiving dream

i come out of a dream the night before thanksgiving. in a blink it disappears from my consciousness. i make an inner effort to stay quiet and still, both body and mind. the sound of the easy breath flows through my awareness. after a while the dream returns like cascades of gentle waves.

here it goes. hwubby and i are in usa for one day. i cram in as many spiritual activities as i can into the schedule. i pack a small glass container of food and a wallet that holds papers and money. then i have to pass through a crowded place to get the chanting venue. i emerge from the crowd only to find that i have lost both the money and food. the clock is ticking away. i am missing the chant. i start to cry and that's when i flip out of the dream. i find myself feeling safe. all that anxiety in the dream are...so unreal. what a reversal in the states.

happy thanksgiving. so much to be thankful for.

contentment is what i am

i dreamed last night. now i realize it's about two tendencies. envy and jealousy. actually they are siblings. kind of twins. anyway, in the dream i'm with kar yan, a girl in my secondary school. she has a stable, nice family. her parents provide for the children and devote to their education and wellbeing. so there i am in my dream world. i am staying over at her place, a clean, bright, spacious apartment. that's heaven to me considering i live in a shack that has a leaky roof over a concrete floor on which everything take place. kar yan has long, shining, black hair that run like a waterfall. mine is short, curly and unwieldy. we are packing to go some place. her father helps her with the packing. i look at them and wish he is my father. so i don't realize i am pooping directly into the beautiful mocha color cashmere coat that i am wearing. i feel terribly embarrassed. inevitably i have to get up and get going, fully expecting i am making a fool of myself in front of everybody, only to see piles of jewels roll down the coat lining. at that moment i come out of the dream.

fortunately it doesn't take long for me to figure out what's going on. my sustained spiritual efforts elevate me to a vantage point where i can see the root cause of envy and jealousy. disconnecting from the inherent contentment that is my own nature.

i am the crown jewel of all that i have

here's another teaching dream. this one goes like this. i'm sitting at a dressing table. mother is sitting next to me. all around me are people all dressed and bejeweled. i pull out the drawer in front of me. it is filled with jewelry. gold. jade. diamond. i take in the scene around me, feeling enough and contented. mother is saying, in a nagging way, wear it, wear it. i look at the glammed up people around me and look at all that i have in the drawer and think to myself in a calm and relaxed way, do i need to wear it? no. do i want to wear it? no. at that point i wake up.

as i share the dream with my study partner it dawns on me that i am the crown jewel of all that i have.

teaching dream

one nice dream after another. two in one night. my teacher comes in the latter one. i am sitting at a big, round table at the back of an expansive hall with people. we are kind of shooting breeze, very laid back. i see my teacher. she is walking in a steady gait across the hall, sort of from my right to left. as she gets closer to me i see three dolls tucked into her backpack and she is in walking shoes. i say, have a nice walk. she beams, comes to the table, and starts talking to us. she pauses behind each person momentarily. as she gets closer and closer to me i feel more and more self-conscious. i can't hear what she is saying. it seems that she is saying nice things to other people. soon after coming out of the dream i realize it's the residual tendency to feel inadequate, worthless and comparing with others.

in order to attain what you want to attain...

no wonder the ancient wisdom says, be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. i wish for full-realization. and look what i am getting. one challenge upon another. just when i think this is as intense as it gets, the scale and proportion keep getting more intense as time goes by relentlessly. tick tock tick tock. all i can do now is to stay in each moment, be with it as it is and pour forth all the cumulative powers of the spiritual practices and understanding to anchor me tight in the present no matter what. periodically i remember something a person say the other day, over sunday chai, i have a dream with the teacher, in it she says, sometimes you have to go through suffering in order to attain what you want to attain. i take it as a message meant for me. i thank the person for sharing it. the simple statement sounds bitter to the mind which is under the influence of old baggage. at the same time it feels right and releasing. if i could attain what i want to attain without suffering, that would be nice. but if i couldn't what can i do?! i can't back down.