One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy

Peter Pan and The Lost Boys

I think this was the longest part of the dream, but I don't recall much detail or lucidity. I recall that I was playing with a group of children. We have a clubhouse and the most prominent detail that I remember is that there is a stairway immediately inside the front door. As we play, I start flying and they were so excited to see that. I show them that they could fly too.

At some point the dream resets. Maybe I woke and re-entered.

Michael

I return to the clubhouse. It looks like the same house with the entry and stairway. But it's dark and quiet now. I search the house for my gang of Lost Boys but don't find them. I exit back through the front door and onto the front porch.

There's a driveway in front of the house and I see a car parked. I sense this is not right. There's a strange man in the driver's seat of the car. He doesn't belong here. He's an intruder. I walk out to confront him. I pull him out of the car. I turn him around and push him down the driveway out into the road. I don't hurt him or use any special powers. I just sent him out on his way to somewhere else.

I am moved by this because in a recent dream I had promised The Goddess that I would have courage. I would catch people when they fall and I would protect those in danger. I would not just watch and think. I would act.

Then the Peter Pan idea connects with this new idea of the guardian angel. And I start flying again.

The Light

I fly up to a comfortable height. But tonight I feel the urge to go higher. And higher. And higher again. The world is still mostly dark below me. On the horizon, I see a sliver of The Sun. I compel The Sun to rise and it obeys my command. It climbs into the sky. It is so intensely bright, but it doesn't hurt to stare at it. Because I am so high up, I must be in space, so the light doesn't fill the ambient sky. It remains a bright circle against the dark background.

Emboldened, I compel another Sun to rise. This one is different. It is bright green and it has rings like Saturn. I compel yet another Sun to rise. And this one is bright red with darker spots like craters on Mars.

I am in awe of how beautiful it is. I brought the light and the Sun. And then, of course, I remember: the clay and the potter. I'm acting like the potter again. Is that wrong? Maybe I have created a false duality with this idea of clay. I think of Forrest Gump, the wise idiot: "Maybe it's both."

I look at my hands. What hath God wrought?

I wake up and reflect.

I realize this new synthesis doesn't conflict with the clay and the potter. The idea of the clay doesn't assert that God and man are separate. It only means that it is folly to be so proud and think you can fully understand divinity. In fact, the parable doesn't instruct the clay to accept being just clay. It only instructs the clay not to quarrel with the potter.

Then I think about Michael, the guardian angel, and recognize the same theme. His name means: "Who is like God?" That's a bit cryptic though. More plainly, it means: The angel defends against those who falsely claim to be like God. But it's not wrong to claim to be divine. It's only wrong to claim to be above or replacement for God. Again, the trap is in the false duality where I try to fit as one or the other. Maybe it's both.