THE AKASHIC RECORD

I am with my mother in an outdoor antique warehouse in a primitive foreign country a long time ago.  There is much activity.  Perhaps it is a communication or transportation center.  A man whose job it is to investigate packages has just found a large burlap bag full of concealed marijuana.  I point out to my mother what this man is doing. On a raised shelf-like platform surrounding the central area are neatly stacked infinite pairs of gloved hands.  These have been left behind souls who have died and gone on to their next lives.  Each pair contains the whole of the history of the person to whom it belongs.  I am searching for my own pair. 

 

COMMENTS

 

Any red-blooded middle-aged man Western with virtually no financial security sycg as myself who spends a year and a half doing dream work a the expense of taking care of business would have to be a bit crazy.  So in the first segment of the dream we see my intellect justifying to my ‘mother,’ the reasonable sensible part of my mind, my search for self knowledge.  The primitive antique warehouse is the Unconscious, the part of the Self that saves collective and individual experience.  The large concealed bags of marijuana are the treasures stored in the Unconscious.  The content of the unconscious is ‘concealed,’ hidden from the conscious mind.  I have, however, found the gateway to this hidden world and am investigating it. 

 

In the second part of the dream I am searching for the history of my soul.  It is contained in my karmas, all the activities that I have done in the past… symbolized by the hands.  Hands represent my accomplishments.  But search is futile because all the hands are the same size.  This means that what we think of as our individuality on the conscious level is not an individuality at all.  All the activities of everyone have the same value.  If we take all the hands to be my own, my ‘past lives’ then it is impossible to find a unique life or identity.