I am sitting in the gallery of a crowded courtroom, perhaps eight or ten rows back from the front. I realize that I am an assistant working for an attorney, and I have been left in a very awkward situation. In a strange twist of events, the attorney has left the courtroom, leaving me in charge of his case—a case involving a father, a man who has formerly abused his wife, and has now been accused of abusing his daughter. Apparently, the lawyer had another trial to attend to, and decided that I am fully capable of covering for him.
What I find totally odd is that I am not a licensed attorney, and have not yet finished law school. I know next to nothing about this case—and I am not even actually sure who I am representing—the father or the daughter. All I know is that before he left, the attorney handed me a blank notebook and a stack of unopened envelopes, telling me that everything I needed to know can be found inside the envelopes.
As I sit in the courtroom feeling unprepared and helpless, I decide to begin opening the envelopes—hoping to find something that will rescue me from my difficult predicament. The first envelope is addressed to my friend Patti—a former coworker and dear friend at my last job as a computer software engineer. I set Patti’s letter aside, planning to give it to her at my next opportunity.
The next envelope in the stack is blank on the outside. After ripping it open, I remove the papers inside and begin to rummage through what I found. A lady in the row directly behind soon taps me on the shoulder.
“Your paper shuffling is very noisy and distracting.” She informs me in a very annoyed voice. “Will you please be quiet!!!”
As the trial begins, I feel a sense of intense anxiety, wondering how I can possibly proceed. The opposing attorney calls his first witness. From my spot, still seated deep in the gallery, I realize that the witness is actually a group of young children who stand at the front of the court and who proceed to sing a beautiful song.
While the children sing, I still feel quite anxious, continuing to hurriedly shuffle papers, searching the unopened letters for any hint of what I should do next.
As the musical performance ends, I discover that I have left the courtroom and am instead in what I believe to be my home. I am trying to solve another mystery. In my hand I am holding part of my cell phone, but the bottom half—the half that makes the phone function—is missing. I search everywhere, eventually giving up, surrendering to the fact that I might never find the lost piece. Recognizing that the part of the phone I am still holding most likely contains my SIM card, I begin to make plans to attempt a recovery of the data on that memory card.
However, almost immediately I find myself walking down a crowded hallway accompanied by several men in suits. One of the men gets my attention and asks if I would mind taking a photo of him with my camera.
Smiling back at him, I calmly reply, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a camera with me.”
“Oh, but you do.” The man replies while insistently pointing to a small bag hanging from a long strap on my shoulder.
As I open the bag, I find a black 35 millimeter camera with a large SLR lens. As I remove the camera, I notice that it appears to be older and film-based—but the camera is still in excellent, like-new condition. I immediately begin to examine the fancy camera, attempting to figure out how to utilize all of the unfamiliar controls.
One of the men in our group calls out, “Hey look at that rock formation in those distant hills. See those two black dots that kind of look like two eyes? Well one of them is different now—something is strange with it—something is moving.”
“Where? What?” I ask over and over again. “I can’t see it. I can’t see anything that looks like what you are describing.”
As I stare intently out at the distant hills, I see what looks like a beautiful mix between the green granite-filled hills around Mount Rushmore and the towering rock formations of Monument Valley. I see the amazing splendor of the hills but feel deeply frustrated that I am unable to locate the anomaly that this man is so patiently attempting to point out to me.
Suddenly I am flying away in a helicopter, headed in the direction of the hills toward which the man is pointing. He keeps saying “Go there … go that way … this way, etc…,” but we don’t seem to be finding what he wants to point out to us. We are high up the mountainside, searching, soaring through the beautiful rugged scenery. I am still clueless as to exactly what it is that we are trying to find. My frustration of seeming failure is approaching a level where I am ready to simply give up the search.
As we fly over a triangular shaped open area, high atop a rugged mountain, a man appears as if out of nowhere, and runs into the clearing waving his arms at us, asking us to rescue him. But we don’t land the helicopter. Instead, we pull our helicopter away and leave him below, still frantically waving his arms.
In what feels very natural, I suddenly float up into the air, behind and above the passenger cabin of the helicopter. For some strange reason, however, I can still see the entire inside cabin area about ten feet below and in front of me. I observe that about eight large men, all wearing full black suits, are squeezed into three rows of seats. The entire cabin area is completely packed with these bulky men. There is absolutely no room for anyone else to squeeze in. In fact, I begin to wonder where I might have been sitting, because there is no room for me either.
The thought passes through my mind, “We don’t need to rescue that man. Indiana Jones will rescue him. Besides, we don’t have any room for him anyway.”
Almost immediately a strange theory pops into my consciousness: Indiana Jones is very closely connected to the attorney—the same attorney for whom I was working back in the crowded courtroom.
As I wake up, I am completely puzzled by my vivid but bizarre dream—a dream filled with so many seemingly disjointed details—details that appear to have nothing to do with each other—details that I eagerly attempt to capture in writing before they melt away into my subconscious.
Searching For Meaning
Immediately after recording the events of last Friday morning’s dream, I set my notebook aside, not believing that I would ever begin to make sense of this bizarre sequence of events.
Later that afternoon, however, a little hunch and a burst of spiritual energy encouraged me to give interpretation a try. As I entered a meditative state, the ideas almost immediately began to flow freely, seeming to arise from deeply within. Soon I was looking up items in an online dream dictionary, hoping to glean additional insight. Later, I also discussed the strange dream with a few intuitive friends.
But the key in assigning my own personal meaning has nothing to do what I found written online, or with conversation that was shared between friends. Above all else, I trust only the deep energizing feelings that resonate from within my soul. If I feel it in my heart, I believe it.
I would like now to attempt an interpretation of all that this dream means to me. The message of this dream seems to have a universal message for each one of us. I hope these words will ring as true with your heart as they do with my own.
And The Verdict Is
My initial impressions surrounding a courtroom situation were so obvious. For some time now, much of my focus has been on removing the judgments that continue to flash into my own consciousness—ever so subtle judgments that often seem to continue rising up out of nowhere. A courtroom is a place where judgment is ultimately balanced—a place where both guilt and innocence are waiting to be declared.
As an unprepared non-attorney, I felt as if I were pushed into a situation for which I was not properly trained—yet as I sat there in that crowded courtroom gallery, a slight feeling of confidence also began to arise from within. I clearly knew that with the benefit of the correct training and insights, I would indeed be fully capable of accomplishing the task that was so unexpectedly dropped into my lap.
While I was not at all clear about my role in the court, nor was I even certain regarding exactly whom I was representing, one thing did seem quite evident. My function in that courtroom was definitely to help bring forth a verdict of innocence. As I sat in that courtroom, I knew that with additional insight and training that I could indeed become a powerful tool in helping others to share my recognition of that amazing divine innocence.
As I sat there helplessly wondering how to proceed, I pondered the fact that I had been provided two tools—an empty yellow notepad and a stack of unopened letters. Deep intuition confirms to me that the sealed letters represent a series of unopened messages from my spiritual guides—unopened messages that have already been sent to me—messages that I didn’t even know I had in my possession.
Those messages contain everything I need to know and learn as I proceed in my quest to bring light to universal innocence—yet for many reasons—reasons left to be explored—I continue to leave the envelopes unopened.
Yes, such help is available to me right now, but I need to put pride aside and ask for guidance in recognizing the messages, and in understanding their meaning.
As the trial began, I am deeply amazed that the only witness turned out to be a small group of beautiful, innocent young children—singing a childlike song, and entertaining the court with love. What a powerful testimonial of innocence that is.
Even as I write these words today, some six days after my dream, tears of joy are streaming down my cheeks while an undeniable electrifying energy continues to playfully dance with my spine. How I wish I could remember the song that these incredible children were singing to the judge, the jury, and the throngs of people who were eagerly awaiting a pronouncement of justice.
As I ponder the meaning of the empty yellow notepad, I now realize that my function is to take notes regarding the messages and insights that are provided to me. I cannot fulfill my purpose in propagating the concept of innocence if I do not diligently record the words that flow through me.
This particular courtroom was very crowded. Everyone seemed eager to hear the verdict. I find it very interesting that I was seated in the very midst of that crowd—not up front where a normal attorney would sit. As I explore the possibility of “why”, I am reminded of our oneness, of the fact that we are not separate, but united. We are all in this together—judge, jury, defendant, witnesses, attorneys, and crowds of bystanders. There is no difference.
I find myself slightly puzzled that one of my envelopes was addressed to my friend Patti. I have no idea what is inside of that envelope, and I have no message whatsoever to give to her, except that perhaps I need to let her know that the universe has a message waiting for her too—a message that she needs to discover and open herself.
The internal insights garnered from this courtroom scene resonate deeply with my heart and soul. I only pray that I am capable of fulfilling my supporting role in this unfolding stage play—that I am capable of following my own divine inspiration in helping the jury to reach such a deserving verdict of pure innocence.
No Dial Tone
It seems that cell phones have been a major thread in many of my dreams over the past eighteen months.
Throughout the past decade, cell phones have become an integral part of my life. They are a powerful communication tool that can be utilized to speak to almost anyone, from practically anywhere.
Past dreams in which I lost my cell phone have left me with the impression that the time had arrived to let go of old attachments, and that I was entering a process of losing (undoing) my entire identity of who I thought I was.
But this dream feels different. In my dream, I experienced a distinct impression that my SIM card was still intact—that my contact information was still present within the broken phone. I had not lost my contact info—I had simply lost the ability to dial and receive calls—to receive the messages that were being sent my way.
My heart tells me that I continue to have my divine source’s phone numbers safely stored away. It is simply time for me to upgrade my hardware, to reconnect with my spiritual guides in new and more powerful ways. Such frequent communication with my source is a powerful tool that I have been somewhat neglecting as of late.
Unrecognized Tools
When the man in the hallway asked me to take his photo, I believed that he must be crazy. I felt absolutely convinced that I had no camera and I refused to believe otherwise until he literally pointed it out to me as it simply dangled from my shoulder.
When I opened my shoulder bag and realized that I had an SLR camera with a high quality lens, I was shocked. I realized that my new tool was quite sophisticated with many features, most of which I was still clueless regarding how to utilize. This camera was an older 35 millimeter film-based camera, but still in like-new and mostly-unused condition. It feels clear to me now that I must have been carrying this camera around for many years without even realizing that it was mine.
As we discussed my dream, my friend Susan asked how old I thought the camera might have been. Immediately, the age of fifteen to twenty years old popped into my head. Could it be that the universe blessed me with the abilities of this amazing camera over fifteen years ago, but I have, as-of-yet, never even realized that the gift was mine?
My gift includes the ability to capture photographs of present moment events. The high quality zoom lens allows me to clearly focus in (or not) on distant details. The aperture settings allow me to adjust the speed of the shutter and the size of the opening through which the light images are captured. The Single Lens Reflex (SLR) action allows me to see the image through the viewfinder exactly as my lens itself registers the image.
It occurs to me that all of these features have to do with perception. The most common goal of a quality camera is to control and adjust all of the settings in such a way that the image on the film captures the present moment with perfect light and clarity. However, sometimes cameras can be used to create illusions—varying light, speed, filters, and the like such that the resultant image is nothing like the original.
Yes, I believe that universe is telling me that I have a very sophisticated tool available to me—an unrecognized tool that I have unknowingly possessed for many years. Through this dream, I am being told that it is time to look around me, to discover what has been given to me, and to learn more specifics about how to use my gift so that I might see the present moment with more vivid clarity than ever before.
Who knows what tools the universe is trying to give to each one of us? It is our own responsibility to shift our thinking, to be open to the amazing possibilities, and to learn to recognize and to use what is already rightfully ours.
Distant Eyes
As my male friend pointed high into the distant mountains, telling me of the far-away formations that reminded him of two eyes, I felt clueless and helpless as I struggled to see for myself exactly what he himself was seeing.
Through meditation, I believe that the man was one of my guides, persistently attempting to help me to see something significant towering above in those remote rocks. But even with my guide standing right there beside me, I was still blind, incapable of seeing.
As I ponder about these two mysterious eyes from yet another angle, I realize that the symbol of two eyes in the distance has a prior meaning to me. Just a week before my first visit to Cozumel, in early December of 2007, I was blessed with a profoundly powerful meditation experience. In my writing about that experience—my Oct 22, 2009 Sacred Memories post—I mention an odd face-like shape that appeared in a dark sky filled with twinkling stars. The most prominent feature of that face was the two distant eyes staring down at me. In the exact moment that I recognized those two odd-looking eyes, an indescribable and overwhelming spiritual energy surged throughout my body.
Could the universe be using imagery from a past meditation experience, telling me that the time has come to look for those two eyes again—time to revisit and possibly go deeper into that memorable meditation experience? Only time will tell.
Floating Away
Almost seamlessly, I suddenly found myself soaring toward the mountains in my helicopter—searching for what I could not see, feeling frustrated and almost giving up in my quest.
The symbolism of this experience still escapes me, but the internet dream dictionary points out that being high in the mountains is associated with realizing goals, achieving a higher realm of consciousness, knowledge, and spiritual truth. Along a similar vein, that same dream dictionary also associates flying in a helicopter with experiencing a higher level of consciousness, new found freedom and greater awareness.
Could it be that my dream is telling me that the time has arrived to get into that helicopter, time to search anew for the connection represented to me by those two eyes, time to redouble my commitment to a achieving a higher realm of consciousness and spiritual truth. I would like to believe that this is exactly what I am being told.
No Longer A Rescuer Be
Throughout my life, I have tended to be a rescuer—always trying to help others, trying to keep them from experiencing their own pain and suffering. I have often engaged in rescuing others at my own expense, frequently neglecting my own needs and personal growth in the process. Such behavior is far less common today, but even now I still experience the temptation to rescue.
Yet my own most powerful life lessons—the learning experiences that have blessed me most deeply—are the ones where I seemingly went it alone, the ones where I was forced to face the trauma of excruciatingly difficult situations and decisions without someone else standing by to rescue me and pick up the pieces. It was in those experiences of stepping into the frightening unknown that I began to awaken the heartbeat of my own deep connection with the divine—a connection that was rooted deeply within my own soul.
My therapist friend Paul often told me, “Brenda, we don’t have the right to prevent someone else from experiencing their pain. When we do so, we take away their own growth opportunities.”
I love Paul’s counsel—counsel that has also been repeatedly given to me by my dear psychic friend Trish. But even so, I still tend to want to jump in with my red cape and save the day when I learn that someone that I love is suffering.
So in my dream, at the place where the man ran screaming and yelling into the triangle-shaped mountaintop clearing, waiving his arms high above his head while begging to be rescued—yes even in that strange dream, I felt totally shocked when the helicopter that was seemingly under my personal control simply pulled away and departed the scene.
Today, my intuition strongly resonates that the universe was telling me through this part of the dream that the time has come for me to once and for all give up the profession of being a rescuer. Rescuing others is no longer my role in life. I need to leave that role to “Indiana Jones.”
As a side note, it is interesting that my internet dream dictionary tells me that triangles symbolize aspirations, potential, and truth. They are a symbol of spirituality, encompassing the body, mind, and spirit. Was it a coincidence that I latched onto the memory that my mountain clearing was triangle shaped? I am intrigued by the thought that this was more than coincidence.
Floating Freely
What a puzzling feeling it was to feel myself rising above the helicopter, looking down on the crowded cabin from about ten feet away. Even more mind boggling was the fact that I did not see my own body in the helicopter. In fact, the cabin of the helicopter was so crowded with about eight men in dark suits that I could not possibly see how I could have fit in there myself. Where could I have been sitting?
My friend Michelle pointed out that the message might be that I don’t really need a helicopter to fly to new spiritual highs—that the limits of the physical body no longer apply when dealing in the realm of spirit. I am learning to fly without the aid of a helicopter.
Michelle also pointed out to me that the men who were conspicuously dressed in identical black suits could have represented the conventional world of human beliefs—a world that is tied down by conformity and rules that no longer apply. Perhaps I was floating away from that world of auto-pilot belief systems. Michelle’s observations ring true to my heart.
My friend Susan felt drawn by the fact that I saw what seemed like eight men in the helicopter—again pulling me back to the spiritual significance of that infinite number with no beginning or end—reminding me of the incredible experience we shared together on 8/08/08 at 8:00 p.m..—the experience where she helped me to perform an energy-clearing in my home just prior to it’s selling. If you missed it, details of that experience are contained in my Aug 9, 2009 Amazing Freedom post.
Of all the symbolism in my dream, I am still slightly unsure when it comes to the full meaning of my floating above these eight men. I hope for additional insight as time progresses.
Missing Attorneys and Movie Heroes
When I shared my dream with dear intuitive Susan, I left out one detail that I didn’t seem to find very significant. I neglected to tell her of a distinct impression that flooded my awareness at the end of my dream—an impression that told me that Indiana Jones and my missing attorney were somehow very closely related to each other.
Amazingly, as Susan and I discussed the symbolism of my nocturnal adventure, she jumped into the conversation and out of the blue and proclaimed: “Brenda, I’m feeling very strongly that both Indiana Jones and your attorney-boss were somehow one and the same person.”
Boom! Zap! Pow! Kazaam! Talk about hitting me between the eyes with a comic book punch.
Immediately, a powerful wave of insight flowed through me, confirming that yes, indeed, the two were the same person. They both represented my divine source. Holy Spirit is my guide that left me in charge in that crowded and lonely courtroom, and Holy Spirit is the same Indiana Jones hero that will rescue that man seemingly stranded in the mountains. My only responsibility is to follow spirit’s teachings and messages as I am guided step by step in my own personal awakening process.
When I reach that state of enlightened awakening, the illusory world around me will simply melt away and I will indeed see the truth through the tools of clearly focused lenses in ideal lighting. I will easily see that no guilt exists, that judgment is a figment of my own imagination, and that unconditional love is accompanied by pure divine innocence belonging to everyone.
I need but recognize and follow the messages given to me, while utilizing the tools that are provided for my journey. And what an amazing journey it is becoming.
Copyright © 2010 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved