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to the lighthouse

Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2016 8:39 pm
by Naga_Fireball
To the Lighthouse is a book written by Virginia Woolf, if I am not mistaken. It contains a verse regarding the great comfort provided by the male intelligence she describes through her protagonist as "upholding the world".

That like iron girders, it runs through and around reality, like a scaffold and armor in one.


I've posted this dream before elsewhere. It occurred when i was 14 years old, in a russian hotel in Ulaanbaatar. Mongolia.

Five years or so ago I wrote it down and showed the story and pictures to a Jungian analyst. He asked to borrow it and i never saw it again. The therapist did ask me to read the books of Carl Jung. Years later I stumbled across Carl's dream of the world tree and how beautiful it was.

In my dream i become aware, I'm sitting in a canoe or rowboat with my dream double. This person is hooded and cloaked in brown linen. So am I. We blend right into our surroundings like Sam and Frodo wearing elvish robes.

Ahead of us, across not too much ocean, is a cliffside. The cliff forms a natural pinnacle. Across some water is a second freestanding stone spire. On the cliff is a lighthouse to answer the older tower.

But as i look up and my guide helps us disembark near the cliff, i see that the lighthouse is dark.

The full moon hangs like a subtle jewel between the towers.

My guide shows me the ropes allowing us to ascend toward the structure above.

We reach the top and after climbing stairs (?) there is a large square paned glass window. Like a reinforced storm window. It opens easily or was already open.

My guide refuses to enter with me and I am overwhelmed by feelings of loneliness and fear.

I step through and see a great metal vault, taller than any bank safe. There is a lock as large as a ship's wheel made of metal.

Before I take another step the wheel spins violently and without another sound, the enormously heavy door flings itself wide.

There is a fairly large room with black and white checkered floor. Near the back where one might expect an altar or shrine rises living smoke.

The smoke has no form at all but is completely and horribly aware of me. I am overwhelmed by a sense of evil that would make HP Lovecraft jealous.

As i try to process the insane sights, my body receives an electric shock so strong that my heart
Is skipping. The shock and sensation of pure and absolute evil sends me rocketing into wakefulness.

Hanging in the darkness over my bed I see a glowing after image with the impression of a leering skull and face.


Re: to the lighthouse

Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2016 8:43 pm
by Naga_Fireball
P.s. Woolf died by drowning, a suicide. Gave her life for the comfort of her caregivers and husband.

Jung lived a long time but stole from the journal of a woman named Wolf , experienced many of the highs and lows Virginia did.. He did establish a whole new school of therapy, but it seems strange to give one person credit when there are two people in the most important dreams.

He described a feeling of electricity when he dreamed the world tree. The interconnectedness Virginia describes in her novel, different Wolf, same story . lol