Last night, I revisited a place I have been to many times throughout my dreamstate. It is very familiar to me. I know the layout of this metroplex very well because I have seen it many many times, not so much in recurring dreams but rather, completely different dreams, set in the same environment–an environment so real that I can reach out and touch solid stone and see the sun glinting on the shiny glazed heads of the orange and green dragon finials on the stone walls.
This is the place that I was kicked out of a few nights ago. This is a section of the 4th Density that I partially exist in.
Let me tell you a secret about 4th Density. You can’t kick a person out of 4th Density. It’s not a place. It’s a vibration. Once your body vibrates to that reality, even if only in sporadic bursts at random times, you’re going to find yourself moving in and out, sometimes simultaneously.
It’s disconcerting at first, but you get used to it. For me, it usually only happens at night, when my desperate death grip on 3rd Density reality slips.
So let me describe to you, this place I find myself.
At the center of this metroplex is a huge temple set on top of a ziggurat made of andesite. The temple is not really for prayers. It is a place to ascend towards, in solitary contemplation, with the emphasis on ‘solitary’ and ‘ascension’ because we truly had to ascend on our own steam. There are no stairs or elevators, or even the random goat toe hold for any such coarse, rigorous methods as rock-climbing. We simply levitate up when the spirit calls. I know because I’ve been up there. And to get down, we jump and slowly descend back to the ground on whatever wing-and-prayer we possessed.
The ziggurat below the temple is not just for show. It is a place of healing–what would be considered a hospital, but in this place, there are no medical devices such as we Third Densitites would recognize. Instead, there are many rooms devoid of any furniture or objects save for a single stone bed. The bed is not a flat surface. It is a stone box the length of a human being. It looks like a coffin with no lid, but it is not for the dead. It is a healing box. We lie in the box when we need deep vibratory cleansing. Nothing mystical or magical at all. It’s just a universal medical tool to realign the chi. Very basic healing here.
Surrounding the stone ziggurat is a garden laid out in concentric rings. The garden provides a cornucopia of fresh flowers, fruits, and vegetables in vast abundance, and given the large number of citizens who actively care for the gardens, it remains in a constant profusion of bloom. Since I have never really been much of a gardener, I simply enjoy the fruits of their labor and repay them in a different manner. That way, those who love to garden can garden to their hearts’ content, and those who do not like to garden (me) can do other things.
A large paved road encircles the gardens around the ziggurat, forming a huge oval similar to the track on a football field. The road is similar to any Third Density road in existence with the exception that embedded within its layers are a multitude of organic crystals that are responsible for feeding energy to the metroplex so that lights come on when it gets dark, and we have power to do all that we do, which includes such mundane things as levitating to the temple heights.
Beyond this road is the marketplace that sells everything one could possibly want or need, but does not utilize cash as currency. After all, what do we really need in this density other than services? So we service each other, and pay forward for the services we have been given. For example, if I gave a musical concert to a large group today, those who went to see me sing and play on my instrument would then offer their services to me in a future setting, should I wish to be shown how to nock an arrow, or attend a color light show, or they could offer me fresh passionfruit and nectar from the communal gardens.
Beyond the market area, there are tall buildings that surround the complex and comprise the living quarters. I know exactly where my own domicile is. I have been there often. If the temple complex was the center dot on a large clock and I stand facing the front of the temple, my little ‘condo’ would be between the six and the seven o’clock position, inside one of the taller towers.
My condo is rather sparse. There isn’t much in the way of furnishings, just a low couch that doubles as a single bed, and a small table. It is laughable how few possessions are in my home, and it sounds as if I am living in poverty, but the reality of that metroplex is that there is nothing that needs to be stored. If we need something, we generate it to be utilized, and when it’s done, it goes back into a general ‘raw’ state to be used for another purpose. There is no need to store anything other than the few items that have some personal meaning.
So now that I have established this dreamscape, I can move onto other interesting aspects of this existence.
(Continue to 4D (Part 2) : Hole In the Wall)