Matt Damon says Mr. Obama has caved to Wall Street. A lot of people know and say this. Matt Damon is an international movie star. He has a voice. Many that agree have no voice.

The writer of the following dreams and their exposition is a person who has appeared on this site many times. I remember his dreams and I am always struck by their truth telling, pretty much up front. Before Mr. Obama was elected this patient's dreams predicted that he would be a failure for the people who were, at the time, wild with excitement for his candidacy.

I know well the truth of dreams and noted the message. Of course it is true since it comes from the unconscious which is a constant repository of truth. The unconscious is the largest purveyor of truth that is constant in its outpouring and requires only the right key to unlock. For this patient the unconscious flows, and here think Niagara Falls, think Iguazu Falls which is even bigger than Niagara. He has not been afraid of jumping into the foam amid the roar. He has always emerged stunned at the knowledge he has gained and sometimes finds himself unsteady walking to the door at session end. He is truly swept off his feet. His face looks a bit haggard. He knows he has been through something elemental. In time he is refreshed and strengthened by the knowledge and feeling thus plunges in again.

Truth is a quality much argued about these days, perhaps all the days in the past. It is revered by some, defiled by most, disregarded by those who run this country and every other country on the planet. It is a commodity that encumbers or so is the prevailing thinking by all rulers and by all governments in all times.

Since the one entity that promises happiness, security, peace and love is ignored, it is trampled upon. Later I will trace out how governments are like individuals and how individuals pay a heavy price for giving the truth short shrift.

I want to put before the reader a question which follows the discussion above. What would people do if they had access to the truth? How would they conduct themselves? For example at election time. It is clear by now to all people that candidates for public office lie and convincingly so about what they plan to do for the people. We know now more plainly than ever that the people are not minded except to enchant them in populous terms to get their vote. So far in this country the one man/one vote principle prevails and since the poor and the middle class far outnumber the wealthy who control the country behind the scenes they have to be beguiled. It is also clear that what Matt Damon says is true. What is striking are the campaign speeches that Mr. Obama made which thrilled people, energized them. Time has passed and fulfillment has yet to come. None of those promises has stood to power.

The basis of these ideas is that the leadership of the country, whatever party rules, has to focus on the welfare of the people in every domain of life so that fears in the physical world that beset all people does not match internal fears which all of us have. Internal fears and anxieties are not generally understood and therefore provide an enormous vulnerability of the people and, of course, to the culture. The political culture must be one of not lining the pockets of one's friends or one's supporters. In brief self involvement must be entirely out. The political system has to assume the characteristics of a good family with a caring mother and father.

What if the people had a chance to know whether a candidate would make good on his or her promises to them? What would the people do? And what would the individual do if they knew what the truth was? For one we could have a short run to election time and save a lot of money. It would change the way the game is played. There are several more answers appropos of this question but I want to close the introduction by saying it is possible to know the truth in a candidate's heart as to whether he or she is honest about their promises. Wouldn't that be a game changer?

PATIENT'S INTRODUCTION

I have been seeing Dr. Bail for many years. I pride myself on being a sophisticated person, and relatively successful. I live in a cosmopolitan way. I’ve traveled a decent amount of the world and am well read. I have published books, essays and poetry. I make movies and TV. I play music and blog. I have had children and grandchildren. I’ve been through a divorce and remarried. In my eyes, I am very much a 21^st Century man.

There are various aspects of Dr. Bail’s work that have always concerned me, even as I have gotten an incalculable amount of comfort and help from his interpretation of my dreams. I know that his work has saved my life (literally) and allowed it to blossom. Nonetheless terms like “the inner saboteur,” “the divine,” the use of the tarot and the importance he places on numbers in his interpretations have always given me pause. And I have recoiled at the concept of past lives.

And yet because, like a miraculous medicine, I have gotten vastly better while working with Dr. Bail, I’ve more or less gone along with these more troubling (I might say, naïve or New Age) aspects of his work.

But as I have gone deeper into my dreams, year after year, remembering them nearly every night, I have found myself unable to rely so confidently on this literate mind that I’ve worked so hard to foster. It’s as if I’ve been worn down by a merciless journey, or in some kind of endless low-grade war (I sometimes compare my experience to The Lord of the Rings Trilogy – talk about naïve).

Yet my actual experience with Dr. Bail has been anything but naïve. I’ve been forced to confront my deepest urges - the murderousness that I have felt for others and they have felt for me. My sexual catastrophes and triumphs, the deaths of those I’ve loved and hated, my tendencies towards mania, my heartbreaks, depressions and dreadful mistakes…

And these have not been intellectual confrontations. In dreams, one experiences everything as absolutely real, physically real. This is what I felt the other night.

I was in horrible pain in the dream and in a terrible place. I cannot attribute this horror to my waking days, which have been lovely. I had just had a major success in my career. I am now happily remarried. My wife and I had had a lovely dinner. By doing this work I have avoided the worst of the old tensions and grown close to my adult children, my three grandsons, my brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces.

DREAM ONE

But in this dream I was in horrible pain, my consciousness was melting. I was dizzy, but it was far worse, as if the blood in my brain were hot lead. Everything was burning inside and smelled horrifically. My eyes were bleeding. I was trying to make it to a bathroom. A woman was guiding me. Another awful aspect of the dream was that this woman, who I desperately needed, didn’t care one wit about me. I was an inconvenience at best. Nor was she pleasant, but she was all I had and I was literally coming unglued.

At this point I understood exactly why someone would commit suicide. If I could have gotten my thoughts clear enough I would have killed myself immediately. But my body was no longer working. I was now confronting a large white bathtub. Was I naked? Did it matter? I could see my piss shooting into the tub. The urine was bright yellow. It had a chemical quality. Was it toxic? It didn’t seem to wash away, just stayed in bright yellow, acrid streaks as I kept melting.

Then I was staring at a giant, black dresser. Either it was huge or I was suddenly small. I looked up at three columns of spaces in the dresser where drawers should have been. But the drawers had been removed. Each row would have held about eight drawers. The horrific feelings still dogged me; in fact the hot lead now seemed to be moving throughout my body. This boiling lead should have long since killed me. Why hadn’t it killed me? I was desperate to be gone from this horror…

ASSOCIATIONS

I woke up. The pain continued. I felt as awful as I’ve ever felt - anxious beyond words and in physical pain. My heart raced, my fingers were numb. Again, I understood why people would kill themselves. My grandmother had killed herself. My father had tried. I now completely understood them. I understood why people would do drugs till they OD-ed - anything to stay away from this level of torture.

After a few hours the pain subsided, but I didn’t go back to sleep. I was still very agitated when I got to my session, lying down on the couch, trying to collect my thoughts. The last few weeks of sessions with Dr. Bail had been addressing many of the people in my waking life – my grown children, my second wife’s family and their troubles. I had been navigating through some very complicated waters and had had to face the degree to which I had sabotaged aspects of these relationships in the past with my mania and fears. But recently things had gone very well. There had been some major reconciliations.

During this time my dreams had moved back and forth between helping solve these outward issues, while continuing to address some deeper internal damage – the good news/bad news. While, as I’ve noted, I struggle with some of Dr. Bail’s positions I have come to believe that the fetus being damaged by the mother’s anxieties is correct. Having studied recent in utero imaging, I believe it’s beyond refutation that fetuses are full of feeling and fears. And it seems to follow that, like any chemical imbalance in the mother, an emotional imbalance would affect the fetus adversely as well.

On having this dream, I felt that I was perhaps approaching some deep emotional aspects of myself. My mother was an alcoholic. Was this dream a residue of my early misery in utero? Again, while I have issues with Dr. Bail, I have come to experience that nearly every important emotion I have felt has remained lodged within me, causing great suffering and confusion or, in some cases, joy. Was this dream one of these deepest confusions? I had hoped so. It’d be a little like hitting Mordor in “Lord of the Rings,” not fun, but getting to the core of the thing.

The answer from Dr. Bail seemed to be a qualified yes. When I think back on it now, I feel that – yes – this could well have been what it was like to be a tiny in utero creature filling up with whiskey. And the woman I was leaning on could well have been a way of capturing my mother to whom motherhood had always a burden as she struggled with her own “demons.”

But Dr. Bail seemed more interested in the second part of the dream, the black dresser with it’s three rows where drawers should have been, each row containing eight places for drawers. I generally steer clear of numbers unless I know the exact count, but I sensed that at least here the numbers were in some kind of balance. Then something came into my head. Who knows how this happens? I remembered being a little boy, having just learned to read. My grandfather had just died. For some reason I had started reading the Bible. I had started with Genesis and moved forward systematically. It was the Book of Numbers that came to mind - all those endless descriptions of cubits (a biblical measurement) that had described the exact size and nature of the Tabernacle. When I had been little I had read every sentence, like counting marbles. Some profound comfort had come from this.

So in this session I was the one who ventured that perhaps this dresser was in some way an indication of “the Divine.” I had deeply believed in a God during those early Bible reading days. Dr. Bail seemed to agree, then added that perhaps the powerful yellow of urine was an indication of the Divine as well, since yellow (in his lexicon) is a divine color. I found myself (despite myself) deeply moved by this and deeply moved by the memory of this child up in his room, while everyone else slept, puzzling over the Bible’s obtuse measurements. I felt such love for this child.

What is interesting, Dr. Bail went on, is that in my dream I am in the most horrific pain with a horrible woman by my side, which he agreed would have been my deeply troubled mother. But within me was the Divine – the Divine as urine (a concept I enjoyed, given it’s earthiness and lack of pretension).

But what about the black dresser with its empty spaces, which if memory served was eight times three empty spaces, equaling twenty-four, divided by two, equals twelve – all these numbers (in Dr. Bail’s lexicon) very spiritual numbers? Yes, he felt this was about spirituality and that perhaps the drawers were missing (whatever the number) because almost no one at this point on earth has gone to the Divine, experiencing the Divine as something akin to an empty vessel. Look at the state of the world.

I have struggled mightily with the state of the world, which at the moment of this writing sees the populace of the Middle East rising up against corruption and brutality while its leaders and my country (the US) work hard to contain or crush them; Wall Street and bankers garner obscene profits while bereft state workers protest without success in Wisconsin. The globe warms, pollution expands, wars rage and everyone in positions of power lies and spins whatever truth comes their way.

DREAM TWO

I am in a car, moving through a dusty, relatively primitive city, which is perhaps in the Middle East. The walls are thick and made of stone, covered in stucco. The buildings are low lying. I see three very round- faced little girls at a door. They are striking looking, and sad, dressed in the multi colored clothes of peasants. There are other people in these dusty streets going about their day.

Then I am in some kind of incredibly sophisticated control room. I understand that the people here are the authorities. They have cameras everywhere so that the city is mapped out in such a way that the people and vehicles are seen as negative images, grey and white, and can be tracked wherever they go. It seems that anyone on these city streets can also be destroyed at will. I seem to be friends with these people.

I then later go outside and study the thick walls of this city. Where are the cameras? I see within the stone of the walls vague outlines of concrete. I assume this is where they have run the wires for the cameras. I then start to realize that there are tiny holes in all the walls. I can’t see inside but I realize that, of course, this is where the cameras are - all the “ eyes” of the authorities. I have an urge get an ice pick. I wonder if I can destroy these eyes.

ASSOCIATIONS

It is difficult to convey the emotional power of a dream. The three girls were inked for me emotionally to all the children currently being killed in the Middle East, a terrible thing to witness. And of course the authorities in the dream seemed to be about the leaders who perpetrate these murders, not to mention the leaders in our own country who support those dictators and are willing to cut back all the social programs for their own people while continuing to prop up and nurture the greediest and most corrupt among us.

Why dream about this now? I’ve known for a long time that while dreams certainly illuminate the world’s landscape, almost invariably they are also addressing one’s inner landscape. I couldn’t help but associate the brutal tactics of our world leaders with the tactics inside of myself. I have sadly discovered that the darkest and most destructive aspects of myself seem to have “eyes everywhere.” In this case the walls revealed an “imprint” (another of Dr. Bail’s words) where the stone had been cut, wires installed and concrete used to cover and protect the authorities brutal ability over their world/my world.

Again, it is the emotion I felt about these cameras, the ability of the authorities to track and kill at will, coupled with my already existing outrage at the dictators of the Middle East. The dream helped me to experience emotionally the rigid cruelty and murderousness that I’ve found inside myself. The dream even presented a precise imagery (far better for me nowadays than an intellectual word like, “inner saboteur”).

Upon this discovery of the cameras came my feelings of hopelessness. Was I really going to go after this nearly omniscient authority with an ice pick? I’d be dead in a heartbeat, as are so many of the Middle Eastern protestors now. And even if some of the protestors succeed, history shows us that they will either be manipulated or fall into corruption themselves. In short, the state of the Human Race seems hopeless.

DREAM THREE

I’m walking along a street at night. It’s raining hard. I’m trying to get a ride from cars, which speed by, nothing more than black shapes with blinding headlights. I have an umbrella, but the drafts from the passing cars blow it apart. I then use the umbrella, half jokingly to entice a car to stop. Now I see a number of other people walking along the shoulder of this road. One jokes with me about using the umbrella like a clown, like Charlie Chaplin. He is holding a large, makeshift beach umbrella. Its surface is made of thick brown paper, held together with twine.

“Would you like it?” he asks, pushing it towards me. “It was used while selling Christmas trees on the side of the road.”

At this point we come around a corner. Daylight emerges. There is an abandoned white clapboard house, covered with dead ivy, set in a wooded cliff. The young man says he worked for the former owner of this house that they were, computer people. The president of the company had had a conversation with him a few years back, explaining that the company’s products were ten years ahead of the times. But I seem to see some of this equipment in my imagination. It’s old, like a 1930s radio that my grandfather might have owned.

Now a young woman appears. She is beautiful. She explains that she also worked at this house, has started dialing a number on her cell phone, she has been intending to call the president who has become incredibly successful, in fact he is presiding over a major convention in the city that we now see stretched out in the valley below us.

As the phone conversation unfolds it is clear that she cares very much about this man, explaining to him that she’s going to the press for his own good that the media has to know the truth. It’s clear that he’s against this, even as she explains that it will save his life, but he heatedly insists that he has a very important reputation to protect.

I am deeply moved by this woman’s emotional commitment, not to mention her striking beauty, which is when the dream becomes a kind of movie. I hear a narrator, or is it my voice?

“From that moment on…I was hooked.”

ASSOCIATIONS

I’m not sure I can describe how beautiful this dream was for me - like a great piece of art, even before understanding it: the shapeless, black cars with their stunning bright lights, which I knew held families inside who didn’t even notice those of us caught in the rain; my Charlie Chaplin broken umbrella; the refugee-like souls in black, tramping along the road beside me, even the strange cardboard umbrella. It felt like a riveting opening for a movie and then the narration about the woman, which I thought was so romantic and a little “noire.” “From that moment on…I was hooked.”

Immediately Dr. Bail felt that this woman was the feminine unconscious, caring, beautiful, tough and utterly compelling (“I was hooked’). Even before waking, I suspected that the president of the computer company was Steve Jobs who, at this writing is releasing his Ipad 2, even as we all know he is dying of cancer. Here is the feminine unconscious pleading with him – I can save your life – come out with the truth. What is Steve Job’s truth? The dream seems to indicate that whatever it is (his real human truth, which is all the unconscious seems interested in) is not out in the open and is therefore killing him.

Dr. Bail then talked about the rain, which he generally sees as the unconscious (something I always forget while dreaming). Generally it’s very good to be caught in the rain. It’s a problem when (for instance) you are sealed up in a car, speeding by in black, protected from the deepest and most painful (and most cleansing) parts of yourself. My umbrella being ruined is good. And it’s interesting that I seem to have gained some of the luster (and humor) of a Charlie Chaplin.

Who is the young man with the breach umbrella? This is when Dr. Bail brought the dream into focus for me. I had suspected that the association with “ selling Christmas trees on the side of the road” spotlighted religion. Sure enough, the Christian (and other) religions, he said, have attempted to shield us all from the unconscious, selling us Christmas trees and other kinds of “snake oil,” as Dr. Bail put it. But their constructs are made of cardboard, he pointed out. They will not last. They are not lasting now.

Primarily he said (and I felt it as he spoke) that the dream was directing its attention to Steve Jobs (and all the intellectuals and leaders) who are astonishingly successful in the things of this world (i.e.: Apple Computers), even as the dream sees these inventions as nothing more than my grandfather’s old radio. The unconscious is not impressed by the Ipad2 or it’s next incarnation. It’s committed, as this beautiful young woman in my dream was committed, to saving human lives on the deepest level.

It is also striking, at the moment of this writing, that a massive earthquake and devastating Tsunami has just hit Japan this morning. So many people I know have had dreams of this kind of disaster. In the dreams they are appropriately terrified. But these forces exist both in the waking (and dreaming) world. Dr. Bail was very clear in his interpretation of this third dream that there is nothing Steve Jobs can do about the forces of nature both inside and outside himself, nothing he can do but accept and learn from them. Watching the Japanese tsunami on U-tube this morning as it washed cars, buildings and whole sections of cities away brings home the power of the forces I have encountered in my unconscious.

I can be melted down in a horrifying heartbeat as in Dream #1. How different is this from a tsunami? But it also seemed (according to Dr. Bail’s interpretation) that Divine forces (as mysterious as each of us needs to make them) are there with us even in the worse moments, as with the urine and the dresser. (I still love the idea of God as urine, not to mention that urine is a form of cleansing.) And yet on the other side are those forces in their black cars, speeding by obliviously or in their confident conferences unveiling their next new product or manipulating those cameras in the walls, believing they will prevail forever. Of course, they will not. The good (and dreadfully bad) news seems to be that like all powerful man made networks or empires or whatever they want to call themselves – they will all ultimately be washed away. And everyone individually dies as well, whether they like it or not.

Finally I need to point out to myself that I am “friends” in Dream #2 with those forces in that bunker with their cameras, computers and weapons. And I have strong elements inside me like poor Steve Jobs. Why else would I dream about him? But all Steve Jobs worldliness (and mine) won’t fend off the inevitable. All his victories (and mine) won’t shield us from the real humanness we are capable of, even as we fight to keep our retrogressive grip on what we want to believe is human, just as the leaders of world fight, lie, steal and manipulate to convince us that they are human and what they are doing helps the human face.

And yet haven’t I at least dipped my toe into the dark and murderous terrain of my early life – frightening, overwhelming, stunning - a tsunami of feelings? Even as my dreams indicate that (to borrow from Lord of the Rings again) I still (like a Steve Jobs) cling to the gleaming gold ring of a perverse intellectual power. But I am starting to understand that this strangling power will ultimately be destroyed, if not by me by someone, because the truth of the uncompromising unconscious is beginning to show its face and the brutal and hierarchical rules of the old order are beginning to come unglued, just as I came unglued in my dream, just as the rains will wash away the cardboard surface of all the past religions’ umbrellas, just as reality with take away poor Steve Jobs et al.

It’s coming, whether we want to admit it or not and, in my more lucid moments, I can sense that what is coming will bring profound transformation and real hope to a species that deserves it.

COMMENTARY

The patient is Frank, a 53 year-old man who is a writer and a director of commercials and whom we have met before in other essays of mine; "Tear Down The House", "Roundabout", and "Reflections on the Global Financial Crisis."

The patient's first dream relates better than any words I could use, the horrific experience of the fetus in the womb. Obviously the image is a symbolic representation of the experience for there was no blood on the pillow in reality. But one does think, in the light of his alcoholic mother, "blood shot eyes" and the going to the bathroom is the realization of the imperative need to evacuate the feelings of this excruciating experience. The account that the patient gives is an accurate blend of the dreams, important associations and my thoughts about the dream in relation to his life. The patient has skillfully blended all of these "emotional facts" into a smooth narrative.

It is in fact the job of the analyst in the deepest sense to be the "mother" who has to clean up the baby that constantly "shits and pisses". The analyst must take these constant evacuations into himself and within his psyche cleanse this besmirched baby. The analyst is detoxifying the person and then, by way of interpretation, gives back the meaning of the detritus in a healing not hurtful way. Without this interjection by the analyst the patient will never be cleaned up even if he/she has an intellectual sense of what the process is and what the theory is. The real work goes on in this simple process. It is here that the outcome is the result of the analyst listening, by his acceptance daily and always of the material given out by an immature organism that has been severely battered. This pain, this anxiety and the question, "Will I ever get to a bathroom with someone I can depend on and who will metaphorically "eat my shit and drink my piss". As a result there is a beginning of a trust between the two. This is not a blind trust because the analyst is constantly asking the patient to subject his information to the patient's common sense and to his information of the outside world as well as to his inner world. Is there a correspondence between what is said and these worlds?

Over time it is this trust that will give the patient the confidence to trust his own intuition which has this long period of time to check again and again. It is not in the quick response that people usually have, "I know I am right because I had this feeling in my gut". That quick gut feeling is usually wrong over the long run.

The symbols in this patient's dream are wonderful, such as the urine, to show even in the waste products of a person there is the presence of the Divine. The presentation of the chest and empty drawers is as good a symbol to denote that despite the many churches, mosques, temples, etc. true spirituality - a real connection with the Divine - is absent and as long as this disconnect continues there will be war and all the concomitants of war whatever the cause. Of course there is one cause - as there has only been one over centuries - power and control over everyone else's riches. It has always been, "I am the master and you are the slaves"; "We are the royals and you are the peasants"; "We are the presidents, the kings and queens, prime ministers, the czars and you are our servants"; it is always, "We are the Divinely appointed and you are not". (Oh, yah? Who says so? And the royals, czars, controllers of the world say, "We do!"). Nowhere is this so clear as in the recent turmoil in this country pertaining to the health care debate. Here despite being elected and therefore automatically having access to the best healthcare available through the Federal government, there was a ferocious fight to not give it to the people. In fact, get this, Mr. Obama took it off the table and gave the "haves" a bundle of money to boot. So is it not clear where he stands? It seems there is an assumption running in the minds of men and women that there is a fact, albeit a manufactured one, that we the people are not to have and not to hope. That we are not as good, that we are the lambs to be killed as needed, to be taken advantage of, to be cheated and we are not to resist. Remember the seven hundred billion transferred to the "poor" rich of this country. Remember the tax cut to the rich before getting into the business of the country and his first business was how to deal with the deficit. Yes, you know the story. Now we'll plug up the holes with your money, your hard won rights and your lives. We will send you to fight for our interests abroad (only the very rich have interests in foreign lands).

I have gone into some detail here to illustrate this edifice is not Divinely inspired but manufactured by man from ancient times onward. This long woven thread of lies continues to the present. It is this that has to be looked at and cut. The now must be examined. It is the message in our unconscious. This message will tell us how to think, where to go, and what to do - not for the slaves only but for everyone.

The third dream depicts the patient's concern over problematic situations in the outside world. I rather imagine that the unconscious of many people is being influenced by the turbulence in the outer world and it adds more anxiety and fear to their being as these people do not know of their own inner fears.

The second dream there are apparatuses to watch the people everywhere. In England they have the streets watched and in America there was a law enacted by which anyone can be watched and whose private life can be tapped if there is a suspicion. One's fate may depend on some stranger's suspicions. The patient has come upon the fact that there is an inner saboteur, although he doesn't like the term, that knows all that goes on inside oneself. It keeps a vigilant stance that one does not alert another (the analyst) about what is going on. The archenemy of the analyst is the internal saboteur (like Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarity). The internal saboteur is the arch defender of the imprint. It is a part of the being that suffered the pain described by the patient. It's vow is to never get near that pain again and to never let anyone else (the analyst) near any intimation of knowledge that might lead to that flood of pain. It knows that it's exposure means the end of it. There is indeed no need for it, that is the imprint, not when the patient can decide his/her life on their terms. All clearly without secret messages distorting the picture of his/her reality and therefore ultimate decision.

I cannot explicate more simply, more beautifully the last dream of the patient. It is a powerful statement of the history of the world and of each human being, certainly of these past two thousand years, a long and large tissue of lies upon which has been built many civilizations buttressed by misused science and by inventions more marvelous upon more marvelous. Looked at from this point of view it is almost incomprehensible that man has ignored the information readily available, ignored and despised by our universities and supposed wise men. Recent events have shown the swiftness with which an elaborate and contrived civilization can be demolished. That the elaborate intellectual view of the rulers, whether in the U.S or Europe, supported by their logic will fall swiftly is a question which never enters their minds. Don't they have a reminiscence of being here before as when the King asked Daniel to read the writing on the wall? The safest place we can be is in touch with our unconscious. It is the place to hear the clear message of Source. It will not lie, make up stories, demagogue or pull out a gun. It will tell you the truth and what you have to do to get on course.

Note the unconscious of the individual becomes the mass unconscious. Neither must have any fear. If the unconscious anxiety, fear and dread is in the unconscious, it will find someone in the outside world to make that picture come true. This has been what has happened over these thousands of years. The good thing is that if one starts putting things together, the Divine has begun to take an active hand in changing what he/she has wrought. Those who ally with that concept will be ahead of the game.

NOTE

The Getty Museum in Los Angeles recently had an exhibit showing beautifully painted scrolls depicting the coronation of the King of France in the fifth century A.D. He was also at this time shown as divinely appointed. Arrangements between crown and church worked to each other's advantage. (Look up kings name-Clovis baptism?) Today we know no one is divinely appointed. Where then does this situation, which borders on idealization, come from? As everything else in the world, it must come from the mother and the infant whose life, and even pre-life, depends on the mother. This fact seeps into every cell of the infant's being. So much so that people have noticed even bad mothers are idealized and idolized. This is the fundamental fact between the two. For those who have been in that situation it is a hard chair to give up. But then mothers and fathers are human and the child begins to grow. The daily events infringe on the family - disappointments, joys, obstacles to one's satisfaction - whatever the desire is - anger, siblings, envy, jealousy, hatred, discontent, betrayal. Idealization has to overcome all of these states and sometimes it can, but in doing so a great deal of denial of the reality of this family, and all families, must be practiced This child also has to contend with its imprint, unknown to it, and then must deal with whomever the mother has identified this child with unconsciously. Other siblings make it more complicated. If the parents are immature, there are more complications. The child then may feel that to maintain an idealization in the face of average life, where people mostly are not mature and not ideal, it has the opportunity to switch his allegiance to the teacher since one knows nothing of her actual life. In pre-school, kindergarten and higher a great deal of idealization takes place. This is roughly how it goes.

What is to be noted is that people have a deep well of feelings ready to be used for this purpose. Later in life it may be a sports star, a movie star or a musician; for example Benny Goodman, King of Swing, or Clark Gable known as The King. There are also many Queens who have come and gone. Here one can go to the movies, the opera, the modeling world or to the Queen of England. Today we do not have many kings. The events of life are showing that we as a people of the world are coming to an end of this cycle of idealization. My premise is that those who are cheered and idealized have little personal contact with the people who idealize them. It is a fact that if we as a people of this world could idealize anyone it would be the Great Father and the Great Mother. They are the ones who created this universe and especially our planet and all upon it including ourselves. The fact that people worship other people shows how far we have gotten from being close to the Divine and how quickly some people have jumped into the breach to assume the mantle of the Divine.

History tells us that the results of such a "divinity" are poor, much like the sorcerer's apprentice. (Perhaps the composer was playing out what I have been talking about)

Of course the gig is ending. Each player holds on more tightly since they are entrenched in power and security. The power and the security are illusory. Newspapers and bloggers tell us every day how quickly powerful men can fall. Those who pretend to wear the mantle of spirit must reveal that they are not spirit but only a man pretending. To be a leader and to allow the inequities that occur in our country, and those in other countries, betrays their shallow falseness especially when they say they are religious people and attend a place of worship. At this time the people of Tunis and Eqypt have begun the long spiral down. Their cry was "Enough".

The last dream the patient had after the above three was as follows:

He was in a strange place. A man was on the ground bleeding. It was as if he were cut open in front because blood was gushing out.

The patient said, by way of association, that he didn't know what to do. He felt overwhelmed, to try or just to let the man die. The associations again had to do with the miserable conditions of the world. He was seeing the bleeding out of our current way of life.

There will be another chance - another beginning.

To sum up, I have briefly and roughly described ten thousand years of civilization. (Egypt was an empire with a pharaoh and a priestly class. Both claimed divinity.) All the rest is "whipped cream and blow", to borrow a phrase from another dream of this patient. The problem for everyone will be to identify the truth. How does one discern that? There is no trusting the government. Politicians often tell outright lies or partial ones and are not ashamed when they are found out. It used to be that they would have proffered their resignation for their lies.

The President lies. No shame in following a Bush agenda that includes invading a sovereign country with the same rationalization Bush used and for which Obama, as candidate, excoriated Bush. There is, of course, no morality in any of the government agencies. We do not know how badly they are corrupted until we have a tragedy.

The Internet is a market place where truth and lies sit side by side. The country, every country, is awash with the same mixture. It is to me ludicrous to see Obama approach the podium with obvious explanations for everything. Sometimes the military even appears with him as if that adds to the weight of what he says or the truth of it. In fact, leaders nowhere can claim that they really know what to do about anything. For some time now they have created a crazy patchwork of band-aids, which sooner or later fall off.

The country's situation, indeed the world's, is beginning to resemble the family in that the child has already been corrupted and then, as in life, gets to have more information that is more or less true or more or less a lie. This according to the prejudice of his parents, according to their level of education, according to their culture and their own mothers and fathers. How can parents be the apostles of "veritas" when they too have unknowingly been a victim of an imprint, not to speak of all the politicians in the world?

Mankind must realize the urgent problem is that all authority figures, meaning especially our elected officials, are perceived in the deepest layers of the unconscious as the "mother" and are accordingly given the privilege of getting whatever they do get as the "mother". Mothers laugh at how their infants try to feed them. This is the nidus of our elected officials - feeding them to the exclusion of feeding ourselves. The baby, by this action, is attempting to insure its survival by making sure the mother survives. There has to be the realization that politicians are not our mothers and may not have our best interests at heart (see Wisconsin, Ohio, New Jersey, Maine, and Florida. The majority of the people in these states voted the horrific unconscious fears and anxieties. These came into reality at the election of governors who would put these unconscious fears into place. Reality manifests the unconscious).

It is time to say "hold on" and "who says so?" and "enough". Your job is to take care of us, your electorate, not your cronies in the business world.

The time may come when communication in the outside world is impossible either through governmental sabotage or a foreign nation's efforts to cripple us. How then will anyone be able to ascertain any degree of truth? That being the case, one must know that the truth lies within ourselves, in one's unconscious, and is derivable.

Shakespeare described it so well, and today it seems so graphic, so in our face. All the players strutting their stuff on stage for a little while and then passing on leaving only chaos behind. They are all adherents of Louis XIV; "Apres moi le deluge".

The spiritual leaders of the world are equally absurd running on a platform of "we are the connection to the Divine". How can that be if, as has been the case for thousands of years, two armies are lined up to fight and each prays to God for a victory? Surely all the angelic realm must shake their heads in sadness for this primitive belief to still be around, as if in that realm there are Catholics, Jews, Muslims, etc. All is a fiction and far away from the real thing. Source is love and only knows and gives love. Anything less is manmade and a fraud.