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Here's my interpretation of the dream I typed out the other day:

The church - The village where I lived between the ages of seven and a half and nine and a half was very isolated; it was/is way out in the rolling-hill countryside and is surrounded by farmland. The church stood beside the school, and behind both was a large pasture that was - to me - mysterious and where I never saw anyone go. I associate this village, and everything I experienced there, with my imagination, because I believe that it was at that time of my life that my imagination was born.

I see churches as almost "false" holy places - "earthly" holy places. I believe the church here (in the dream) is an image of the natural sense of "holiness", or goodness, and innocence I had up until around six years ago, when I first forced myself to confront adult life, which I'd always been frightened of. I went after "earthly life"; I followed my watch outside after it smashed through the stained-glass windows of the kirk. I went after it thinking it was important, thinking earthly life was important (in and of itself, that is). Round the back of the kirk, where the watch had gone, was an area covered in gravel; actually it was more like rubble - fist-sized rubble, covered in dust and grime. There were a few faded old crisp and sweetie packets scattered around. The sun was out but shone through a high haze. The place - the whole village in fact - was deserted and it was dead quiet; there was a very slight, dry wind. I fished around in the rubble for a good wee while.

This part of the dream is an image of the last six years of my life. During this time I've felt like a ghost or non-entity; a husk; because I'd abandoned my natural inner being in the quest to be a "normal" adult and acquaint myself with "the world" - the physical world as it can be seen seperate from the spiritual one - the materialists' veiwpoint.

So all this time I was searching for my true inner being amongst gross physical things. My true inner being being, as I thought, my old self that I'd lost, my old self that was part and parcel of earthly life, but which also had natural depth - a spiritual aspect that was a birth-right. So finally I find it, and it has become useless, worthless. But I'm not really troubled by this, and I realise that deep down - through all the years of searching - I've always known it was worthless; that I would never find the true substance of my being there, or the true substance of life itself. Only now it really hits home: I'm finally completely convinced that the true substance of my being has nothing to do with my intellect, my memories, my emotions, the acts I am capable of doing in and of myself, and so on; the true substance of my being is God (you heard me). Divinity. The spiritual world that permeates the physical one at every point.

And only now, only after properly realising the worthlessness of my own self, do I find what I've really been looking for all along. I look up and find the infinitely remote and tranquil wooded valley, the beautiful green valley. And I feel like I am an inseperable part of it. I feel like a child - free from cares; looked after by beings far higher than myself. All I need to do in life is deal calmly with each and every passing moment. The being Who is far greater than me will take care of everything that I thought I would have to take care of myself. I am a drop in His ocean.

But I would never have gained this if I hadn't gone through the voiding of everything that I was by birth.

I should also say that this dream came in the midst of a few days where I was doing virtually nothing but reading "Dark Night of the Soul" by St. John of the Cross (excellent by the way). And the evening before I dreamt the dream, I was looking at pictures of Svaneti in Georgia (and here) - one of the - in my estimation - most beautiful places on Earth.

Now go and read the dream again. 'Cause it's miles better than all that intellectualizing crap I've just written.