Braveheart - Down the manhole
Type of Spiritual Experience
Some artefacts are symbolic of the wounds you have incurred that need to be healed. Again the symbolism can be very complex and only the person who has the vision or dream will understand the symbolism involved.
A description of the experience
I call it the Manhole. It is not a manhole but that's the easiest way to describe it. It is in the ground on a hillside surrounded by small terraces built with white stones. They resemble rice-paddy terraces but they are bone-dry. On each terrace sits cross-legged a man with a white beard and loose robes, like teachers in Ancient Greece.
When I raise my eyes I see below and beyond a shore line with a small bay upon which a long wooden boat is drawn up. A short way from the shoreline is a regular line of small trees. The sky is very blue with a few puffy clouds.
There is a gentle breeze. It is warm verging on hot.
The Manhole it about one metre across with a circular rim about four centimetres wide carrying a script. This is not a script I can recognise: I don't know whether it reads clockwise or anti-clockwise. At any one time that I look at it closely I seem to know what it reads. "Books cannot teach you how to love" "In darkness find your own light, for you are brilliant" "How can you escape from what is written?"
My helpers stand around the manhole - I feel they are inviting me in. I leap feet first though it.
I enter a dark tube going down very fast. Suddenly it is very bright and I am in a huge cavern. The roof of the cavern is as undulating rocks covered with images in red, brown, blue and green. The images are wonderful and almost beyond description. There are whorls and flowers and beasts and beautiful patterns. I can gaze on them for ever
I look straight ahead of me and see a large glass panel on a rock wall. I move over to it and see that behind it is rock. Moving across it are spindly shapes in a kind of projected light. It is like another world being shown to me. These shapes are angular and they move slowly in different colours as if projected onto the glass from behind. I try to reach out to them but the glass prevents me. There are hundreds, probably thousand of these things.
A sound arises - chanting. It gets louder and louder. It seems to be attacking me! I am being attacked by a loud chanting sound! I thrust my Ankh forward and make loud noises myself. Thunder and lightning crash and flash.
I awake in a sweat feeling exhilarated and lively.