Sunday, December 5, 2010

Politics or "Remind me again why I came to this planet?"

I've recently had the great good fortune to cyber-meet a wonderful author and blogger, Trish MacGregor. She and her author husband, Rob MacGregor, have a very worth reading blog titled Synchronicity, (link at the end of this post). I've found that besides illuminating discussions on "all things mystical" they also address some challenging political issues. Trish posed this question to me; "So if politics were a dream, Adelita, what would it all mean?"

A dream from May of 2005 flashed to mind. It's titled "Galactic Travels #1". It's long, so here's an excerpt.

I’m traveling through the galaxy with a group of people I know (not sure who). We’re stopping on several planets, looking for a suitable place to live. On one, we’re adopted by the people there, and after a time, we’re conferred citizenship (or whatever they called it, they made us one of them.) But then something happens, some kind of raid from another planet and we’re rounded up by these men in khaki uniforms with weapons (that look like guns)... At the end of the dream I say to a woman from the khaki army who's questioning me about my education, "I'm not from your planet."

In the dream, my dream self is somewhat passive, yet thankfully, pretty resourceful. I slip out of custody and also confront the woman with the knowledge that I'm not from this planet. Throughout the dream, I'm also interacting with the others I know aren't from this planet. I'm not alone.

"Galactic Travels #1" has stayed with me as the knowledge that we move about in the universe, planet to planet, between levels of reality, living an existence here and there. After this dream, I read some of Robert Monroe's work on astral travel and OBEs. In his OBEs he hops around all over the place, often to some less than tantalizing spots, but the key he offers to all this out of body travel is the knowledge of the power of intention. We move around in other than physical planes with the power of our focus and intention.

"Politics", the word comes from the Greek, "polis", the body of people we are. (Interesting that you add the ending "ticks" and it becomes the mess it is today.) If politics in it's contemporary manifestation is part of the dream I'm living on this planet, at this moment, I remember I'm here of my own volition. I wanted to come here. I came with a group of people I know. When I incarnated here, I had a plan, a purpose. My heart fell in love with some possibility; it's a dream that is mine to fulfill and that needs to be fulfilled here, on this planet. How I do is a crap shoot; there are significant obstacles and crazy thinking people. I'm in a militant plane where the paradigm of fear is created by the few in power and enforced by their armies of minions with brutality. But there are many aliens visiting, like me. We don't live that paradigm and we're here to make a difference.

We're a body of people who've chosen to come to this planet to live among another body of people who think crazy. But we chose to come here to see what we could do, perhaps to make a better home for ourselves and future generations on this gorgeous planet.

(Every time I slip and complain to my husband that this is a horrible world, he corrects me; it's not the world, the planet is beautiful, it's the people.)

So, we have a purpose, those of us who think Love is the answer. We came from somewhere else, but it's important that we're here and we do what we can.

Trish also commented: "Years ago, when I read Jane Roberts Seth books, I was struck by his discussions on dreaming, that in a sense, we dream ourselves into existence, that collective we could dream a better world".

Robert Moss speaks frequently about his dream of creating a dreaming culture, a people who use their night and waking dreams to shape the reality we want to live. I for one am on board with it. We know we're dreaming. We know we're here for the duration of a visit and then we're gone; it's not forever, just now. We are many. We can connect and with the power of our focus and intention, dream the body polis we want to be.

I can re-enter my dream of Galactic travels and rehearse what I want to bring about without fear of the guns; in my dream, I can do what I want. Then, I can transfer what I discover to what I do here, in this waking dream, and I can do it with others, with people like Trish and Rob who are doing it. We joked about meeting in cyber space, but that's where we are really. We are out there as well as here. Our dreams are a portal to that awareness.

When I go back into this dream, I see myself participating in all sorts of ways in the education of the citizenry already here; I want to win them away from fear and brutality. I know that I must assess each battle for its win-ability and stay close in communication with my fellow travelers. I'll do what I can, then I'll be moving on.

Here's the link to "Sychronicity"

Photo: NASA - "Spiral and Elliptical Galaxies"


  1. Love it! Your galactic dream is intriguing. So now let's all dream ourselves to a better place - and dream these bums out of Congress!! Or, at any rate, dream away fear and brutality.

    odd word verification here: obsorb - absorb??

  2. Absolutely intriguing!

    With reference to our discussion outside the blog, I somehow find a connection here:

    My "smoking gun" dream...I'm on the deck of a cruise ship, one in a crowd of people who are partying and having a great time, when the "dictator" (a thin elegant Hispanic man dressed in white with slicked-back black hair, moustache... and an obvious agenda) interrupts the festivities. He's on a stage in the middle of the deck, holding a mic in his hand, threatening everyone with his political propaganda...when the sound of gunshots interrupts his speech. One of the shots hits him in the chest and he collapses and dies instantly.

    I'm compelled to find the source of the gunshot, and take off in a frenzy...looking everywhere. I'm running from deck to deck, even taking a ride on the luggage belt in the pit of the ship. Suddenly, on one of the upper decks, I smell the smoke from the gun and see two guards standing outside one of the staterooms. I peek inside to see my Mother holding the smoking gun and looking out her window toward the deck where the dictator lies motionless.

    It's a recurring dream, which began long before my Mom passed away. But, somehow, there is a connection to yours. It reminds me that we indeed have the collective power to make a defeat political evil.