Fear and Exultation Amidst Interconnected Chaos (John Dotson’s dream of August 5, 2016)

This was a lucid, pulse racing dream. It involved people I know, including a close friend whom I haven’t seen in decades, and some family tension.

The action picks up in a very sophisticated hotel. I have finished an engagement, a performance of some sort, and am on my way back to my room, and, in a montage of energies, I am also ready to leave my room, to travel. As I am nearly at the elevator door, a highly suspicious figure disappears through a nearby service door. Male. But I do not see his face.

I make my way into the elevator and press the appropriate button for the ground floor. The elevator moves but it does not get to the first floor. Rather it stops at an intermediary floor, and I am very wary. I do not want the doors to open. I press again the #1 button. Again very fast descent, but then a stop, a reversal, and very swift movement back up the floors, with the floor numbers racing. Very alarmed, I push the emergency button to stop the elevator. It does stop, but immediately starts again, descending very fast. Clearly, I am not in control. No matter what buttons I push, the elevator ascends/descends autonomously. I am very frightened.

At last a door opens, and I walk out on whatever floor it is. But this is no ordinary floor, no ordinary architecture. I have a feeling that I have been drugged with a powerful hallucinogen. In truth, I have been. And this is all integrated now in a new scenario of revelations. Some are consoling, some are profoundly disturbing.  Various persons are present—some famous, others not but clearly connected and in the know. I am being taught, instructed—initiated. Brought into an open secret about the interconnectedness of things.

The shadowy figure re-emerges and is menacingly walking toward me with an injector gun—a device with a sharp needle. I struggle inwardly to escape, but cannot move as he approaches and pierces my upper arm. Then, after a brief interlude, he does so again, and then again. This does not hurt, but I am aware of the harrowing flux of events.

I’m not clear about what is going to happen next, where I will be going, or be taken. As I turn to a wise old man, his face shows and affirms that what I have long been aware of about the bigger picture is true. The whole story is as serious and real as I could ever have imagined. My involvements with all are highly complex. There are assurances and there are great dangers. I am both exhilarated and profoundly shaken. I cannot comprehend it all. I am overwhelmed. I feel paralyzed and yet I know that I must keep moving. I feel trapped and profoundly threatened—or rather, I feel the overall situation to be profoundly threatening not only for me but for all who are living. Yet I am aware this is the work. I feel unequal to the task. I would like to undo this revelation.

As the drama continues, I call upon a friend who is now sleeping. The scene is almost like college days. There is disarray, and folks are sleeping where they are able. I wake her up to tell her, with urgency, what has happened to me. I don’t expect her to believe it, and I couldn’t possibly begin to explain. There are no mere explanations for what I have encountered.