IN THIS Department will be given interpretations of dreams and visions of those needing to know their inner meaning. We reserve for it only those of special interest and helpfulness.

LAST night I had a wonderful experience, it seemed to be more like a vision than a dream, because I was faintly conscious of our neighbors’ baby crying, and its crying finally brought me back to full consciousness.

I seemed to be standing with my husband on a place high up like a balcony on a high roof, looking out, before us was a gray wall or fog, and we seemed to be surrounded by this gray nothingness. Then, I heard a voice, which seemed to be my husband speaking, and he said, “Behold God.” And the gray fog parted in front of us like two great curtains being drawn back, and I looked and saw a great city below me, like one would see from an airplane, and I heard the most beautiful music coming up from this great city, and I thought, how strange, and the voice that I had heard before, said, “That music is the ordinary city noise; all of the discordant sounds blend into one great symphony in the upper air.” The scene lasted only a second, but it was not the sight, but the sound of that glorious music. Then, a light seemed to hover about me, around my head, and inside of my head, and I came into consciousness saying, “Behold God.”

This vision reminds me of a little poem I have had in my scrap book for several years. Called ONE MUSIC. I do not know the author.

“THERE is a high place in the upper air, So high that all the jarring sounds of earth— All cursing and all crying and all mirth— Melt to one murmur and one music there.

And so, perhaps, high over worm and clod, There is an unimaginable goal Where all the wars and discords of the soul Make one still music to the heart of God.

Your dream was indeed very wonderful and was actually a soul experience wherein you were shown a great reality. For to those in that higher consciousness you were in at the moment, all of these things down here are seen through the eyes of loving understanding, and they are indeed but part of the great Symphony of Life, and might be likened to the notes in the bass clef. It is interesting that it perfectly illustrates the poem you had in your scrap-book.

ONE morning early I dreamed I was out in our yard, in a long blue robe. It was nearly dawn, the light was beginning to come. I saw stealing round the side of the house a man. He seemed to be the husband of a friend who is in great straits and whom we have been helping. This man, her third husband, has been the apparent cause of separating her from her children and friends, and he dislikes her associating with anyone who can help her. He has an almost hypnotic influence over her. He suddenly looked up, and saw me, and threw some STICKY SUBSTANCE at my feet. For a few minutes I could not detach my feet. Then I said, “I am free to move, nothing can hinder me.” I went into the house. Looking out of the window I saw the sea, GREY WATERS, BOILING AND EDDYING BELOW, threatening to rise and swamp the house. But I knew that there was nothing to fear. And I raised my eyes to where the sun rose swiftly into the sky. When I looked back at the sea, the waters were golden and flowing.

This is an illustration of different mental conditions that have been influencing you. The man symbolizes your reaction to what he was doing to your friend. The sticky substance attached to your feet was the moody feeling in which you allowed yourself to get stuck, and the gray waters boiling below were those negative emotions that boiled up in you and threatened to swamp your consciousness. But you suddenly remembered to look within to the Sun Center there whose light drove out all of those dark illusions.

I DREAMED I saw a steep road coming down a mountainside into a sunlit valley. The road was narrow and precipitous and in places dangerous. Round the corner came a well-appointed four wheeled vehicle, drawn swiftly by two beautiful high stepping horses, one white and the other a golden chestnut. These horses were driven rapidly and most expertly by a fine looking man dressed in uniform or livery, white breeches, polished knee-high boots, coat with shining buttons, and top hat with a large white cockade. The speed and skill with which he drove the horses down the twisting road was remarkable. The horses were full of spirits, but obedient to his touch. Beside him sat another smaller man in similar uniform. Seated in the vehicle behind were three other men also in uniform with folded arms.

I get the sense that they were all part of a whole, or that they were all bent on one thing: that they were all at attention, fulfilling their roles, though the coachman of horses and coach seemed to have the active roles.

The scene on the steep road of the horses and coach coming down the mountain side was but illustrative of your own present equipment, if you only know it. You have within you all the things—the fine looking uniformed driver and coachmen (mental faculties); the splendid horses (the trained and disciplined forces of your nature); and the coach (your consciousness). You, however, are the owner of it all, and are riding within, directing where they go and what they do. It was a wonderful dream, and shall we say, a promise of what is to be?

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