Ezekiel’s Wheels (John Dotson’s dream of November 25, 2015)

With a group, a somewhat nebulous group, in a massive architectural structure—a very old, highly elaborate public building. The entrance interior is fully realized with heavy, dark wood, mahogany. Struts, bulkheads, decorative ceiling, wall paneling. There is a very large staircase with elaborately curving banisters. And suddenly I am aware that we are being drawn up the staircase without stepping, but rather by some magical, invisible force—and I realize that this is very, very high tech—beyond tech.

On another level, I am aware that I am revisiting a location where I have taught—where I have appeared as the teacher on many occasions. I remember now that the location of all these structures and activities is on the edge of a cliff. The tectonics of this cliff are so extremely powerful that the gravitational field is disturbed. There are many people going about their business, some of them I know, and my work is concerned with all of them, though I am in no particular way recognized.

One of my usual tasks is to pick up litter. I observe an old woman with a rolling receptacle, whose job is sweeping and picking up litter. She is haggard. When she notices me noticing her, she responds with shock. I look into her aged face, into her eyes. I cannot tell if she is positive or negative towards me. She seems volatile, but she could be benign. Maybe she knows me, I feel. There is nothing I can tell her, or need to. I can only look and listen and walk on. It seems I have an appointment to get to—the very reason I am here.

I am back on the first level now, below. The level of elaborately carved, serpentine figures of mahogany. An underground mezzanine. And everything is flowing backwards. Though we are facing forward, upward, my traveling companions and I are moving downward as the magical staircase-conduit flows back to a deeper level. We are being summoned to the end that was the beginning of this episode—and the next.

On this deeper level is some apparatus, also of massive substance. It seems to be mahogany and it could be metal also. It is some sort of stupendous vehicle. At front is a pair of circular discs—wheels, but wheels beyond wheels. They are not aligned in the ordinary way, but rather they turn toward each other and are oblique. In their way, they appear to form a huge, horizontal figure 8. They move, or they are movement itself. They can go in any direction, together or independently. But they appear not to move. This is a vehicle of all possible movement. Which, in a given place, may be unmoving. I am supposed to get this.