Ramana Marharshi's Query: Mini Meditations That Can Bring Us To the Soul: Kerry Meets Clayton in a “Dream”: A Mystic’s Journal Entry: January 3-4 , 2010.
Ramana Marharshi's Query: Mini Meditations That Can Bring Us To the Soul: Kerry Meets Clayton in a “Dream”: A Mystic’s Journal Entry: January 3 - 4 , 2010.
Image: Ramana Maharshi
Sunday, January 3
I received the following e-mail from my meditation student, Kerry. In my opinion, this was not a psychological dream, but rather an actual meeting with Clayton in another realm. Kerry had this dream meeting with Clayton the night after he went to other realms. Clayton was also one of my meditation students. He was just an enchanting young man, and very serious about the spiritual Path. Even though only twenty years old, Clayton died suddenly of a heart attack a few nights ago, on New Year’s Eve. Below is Kerry’s e-mail to me:
“ Hello Laurie.
I am so very sad right now. Clayton and I didn’t know each other very long, but I always felt a deep connection with him. We lived together last summer, as friends. I thought of him as my spiritual teacher even though we were the same age. When I think of him, I think of Joy.
Here’s the dream I had last night:
I found myself in a beautiful sunny field with Clayton. He had long hair, as I remember him from this summer, when we were closer and when I think of him as happiest. There were a few other people in the field with us. They were all just as happy as he and I, although it wasn’t clear to me whether they had any relationship to us or not. I couldn’t see any of them very clearly. Clayton and I were flying, swooping a few feet above the ground, effortlessly, joyfully, with the exhilaration that comes from sprinting. I was filled with a great ecstatic vitality, thrilled to be alive, everything was beautiful – how I always felt when I was near him. We were grinning hugely and laughing from the very bottoms of ourselves. At times I could feel that I was fading in and out of the dream. At one point I was slipping out, but then snapped back in strongly. It seemed to me that Clayton had pulled me back. I remember clearly saying, “Hey man, thanks for pulling me back. I’m gonna need it.”
I e-mailed Kerry back:
Hello dear Kerry! Here is a new exercise for you, from Ramana Marharshi, who was Paul Brunton's Teacher. Paul Brunton was my Teacher's Teacher, so Ramana is your great-great-grandfather.
Close your eyes and inwardly say: "Who is sad? I am. Who am I? I am Radiant Light." In other words, mini meditations, as needed, throughout the day. Even for a minute or two.
You might also just say: "Who is sad?" - eventually, the rest of the phrase might not even be necessary. xxx Laurie
I met with Kerry the following evening, and gave her Clayton’s Christmas present - a small light that you could clip onto books or other things, to light your way. It was the only gift for my meditation students that I put a gift tag on; it also had a big white bow. The other presents were either unwrapped or just had Christmas paper - a set of three small white frosted candles in the shape of houses and Christmas trees, in a little clear plastic box. Because of the holidays most of the meditators were out of town, and I kept looking at the presents wishing that Clayton would come before Christmas and get his present. With all the presents still waiting for people to claim them, I always thought of him. Now, of course, I know why. And tonight, as I gave Kerry Clayton’s present, I realized that Clayton wanted Kerry to have the small light - he no longer needed it, but Kerry very much does ...
The editor and I meet tomorrow to discuss the final changes and corrections for this little book, by the end of next week I should have the ms of ‘We Meet in Dreams’ mailed off to Diana to start formatting. And dear Clayton will now end this section of the book, ‘Dream Visits To and From Other Realms’ ...
Monday, January 4
Met with the editor this afternoon, and we managed to get to the end of We Meet in Dreams. I am now facing a miasma of corrections and suggestions, scattered about the manuscript much like the snow falling outside in the wind.