The World Inside A Glass Bubble

man-in-glass-bubble

This was a dream I dreamed several years ago. I dreamed that the world is trapped in a huge thick glass bubble, spellbound by a dramatic but repetitious movie it is constantly watching. The multitude’s faces were anguished and world-weary in the dark — caught in a cyclical shadowy human condition. No one in the dark was aware of their predicament.

          I saw the whole world inside a dimmed movie house. The whole world was watching a movie. The movie screen looked like a giant computer screen. All eyes and attention were focused on the movie which was taken as real by the moviegoers. At one point in the dream, I, too, was inside the movie house and I could agree that the movie was very interesting, except that, I noticed, the plot was nothing new. It appeared to be an old story being revived over, and over again through different times and locations with a different set of actors acting the same roles. I was going to speak to the man seated to my right, to say a casual comment about the movie when I sensed he did not want to be bothered. He was laughing at what he was seeing in the movie. I turned to the woman to my left, but she too sent the vibes that she did not want to be disturbed. She was crying at what she was seeing in the movie. I thought it quite amusing that an exact same scene in a movie could make one cry and another laugh.

Crowd watching movie in theatre

          As I was watching the people watching the movie, it occurred to me that it was only their collective perception which was making the movie appear like real, for in my vantage point, as I watched them from outside the movie house, they are only looking at a man-made movie. Then I noticed that the movie house and the people in it were inside what looked like a huge bubble. I concurrently became aware of the distraught and world-weary faces of the moviegoers. I thought that as it is merely a bubble encasing the whole world, the bubble could easily burst and everyone in it would be freed. A closer look, however, revealed the bubble to be thicker than it initially appeared. It was a very thick glass bubble. Nobody among the moviegoers seemed to be aware that they are watching a movie in a dark movie house contained in a glass bubble. I thought, if only somebody would poke at the glass bubble to create noise, the viewers’ one-pointed attention on the movie would be momentarily broken, enough for someone to take notice of the confinement and inform the others. I had the idea of hurling a stone; even if it lacked enough impact to break the huge thick glass, it might distract some to notice their enclosure. I scrounged for a stone, but could not find any. And then, a most astonishing revelation took place: it was the multitude’s age-old, deep-seated, complex and tangled thoughts, which, over eons, consistently wove a membrane that solidified into an impenetrable hard glass bubble. I knew then that the bubble could only be cracked from the inside – from its very source. As this almost frightening realization struck me, my body involuntarily convulsed, and I awoke from the dream.

The world’s prevalent and enduring thoughts compounded, gained density, and formed a spherical aquarium-like glass bubble that confined a whole world which is totally oblivious of its confinement.

The Wounded Healer: Wounded No More

goddessbeauty 

Most healers are molded to become who they are – as healers and teachers – because of past wounds, hurts, and other very deep psychological experiences that led them to walk the sinuous Path of the Healer.

Not everyone is meant to be a healer – shaman, herbalist, therapist, nurse, doctor, artist.

We need engineers, technicians, carpenters, scientists, farmers, nannies, salespeople, truck drivers.

We need those whose job is to dig the ground and bury the dead. If you meet one, bow to them.

Do we need politicians? 🙂

Each to his or her own calling, different, yet equally indispensable.

Differences are what allow each one contribute to build a complete and balanced world.

We need fools – a reason for the wise to be known as ‘wise’.

We need sinners – a reason for the saint to be called a ‘saint’.

Many healers naturally start as wounded healers because they have to intimately know illness in order to know how to deal with, and heal illness.

However, there should come a time for a healer to pass the stage of being wounded.

A time for a healer to heal her own hurt, to close her own wounds, so that she can be an example that healing can indeed happen.

When a healer is able to close her own gaping wounds, when she had come to terms with her own inner demons, she no longer unconsciously engage in the usual human drama.

She may, however, consciously choose to engage in the drama. But it would now be only for fun, for play — for hers and others’ amusement.

The healer could then become a sort of a clown, a Fool in people’s eyes.

And she is at peace with it. She is at peace with everything.

She is content to exist  simply as herself. And all around her are healed by her healing presence.