one in the driver’s seat was your Divine Self and when you surrender the wheel to Him and let Him do the driving, no matter how deep or wide the “chasm” He can drive you across it and along the highway easily and happily to your goal. The forest and desolate wastes are only states of consciousness of your human mind. But with Him along you will not even see them.

ONE NIGHT as I meditated before going to sleep, I was thinking how selfishness closed all avenues for good to come in, and I really did feel sad about two women I know who could not see a thing but just their own wants and needs.

That night I dreamed that some unseen person took me by the hand and we entered a large barn-like building. No beauty in it. Just a place with a high level in which things could be stored. I saw literally hundreds of queer oblong boxes set up on little stands about three feet from the ground. They might have been coffins, but I had never seen any like them. They were a dirty cream color. We walked and walked through aisles of them and finally went up a sort of incline and as I looked ahead, I saw one of the boxes and out of a crack I could see three fingers moving. They seemed to be wiggling to attract attention. I was horrified because I did not know anything was inside any of the boxes. All at once I took hold of my companion whose face I could not see, and said, “Oh, they want love. Lord they have built shells around themselves. That must be selfishness and they can’t get out or get anything at all, and yet they want love.” By that time we were at the top of the incline and I stood and began to sing, “Oh, the world is dying, for a little bit of love.” And I awoke sitting up in bed, and I promise I must have thought I was singing.

That night your Teacher took your hand and led you down into the state of consciousness—the large barn-like building—in which your friends are now bound, illustrated by the queer boxes that house them (the way self boxes itself in). There they stay and believe they enjoy themselves, thinking only about self and its needs, and always trying to get things to feed that self. Once in a while, however, it becomes too stifling even for self, and the soul tries to get out, longing for a little bit of love; and it opens a little crack in self’s box. The helper nearest usually sees, and