In Which I Dreamed I Was Lord Vishnu

A couple nights ago I had a very vivid dream about being the Lord Vishnu.

I understand this might be very offensive to some people, as a mere human cannot be a god, nor should they assume they ever could be. Please understand that I mean no offense, rather that I am reporting exactly what I saw in my dream and that I do not assume myself to be godly, but rather that, for a night, I was blessed with a strange sort of empathy previously unknown to me.

I was in a small room, much like a classroom. There was even a chalkboard on the wall, but no seats. From the very start, I was aware that I was Lord Vishnu. I was aware of my blue skin, gold-bedecked torso and crown, and I was choosing to portray myself with only two arms.

The classroom was empty. The walls stretched away into a deep red, and I knew that they stretched far past the stars. We were in a small, concentrated section of the universe. With an expression of profound boredom, I turned my focus to my current task. I stretched out my hand over a patch of dark red land, a patch just in front of the chalkboard, and I called into existence a number that seemed close to fifteen human beings.

Strips of paper fluttered into existence, shooting from the ground and shivering as though moved by a wind from beneath. On them were crude drawings of humans, their designs simple: two-dimensional. I knew that they could only see in the second dimension. Therefore, were I to move before them, they would see my three-dimensional body in two-dimensional segments; there was no way for them to perceive me in my entirety. I recognized these segments as my avatars: Rama, Krishna, Vahara, the Buddha, etc. Even in viewing all ten, it would be difficult for humans to perceive me.

I took a chalk piece and wrote my lesson on the board. I wrote the truth of the universe, the purpose of life, escape from Samsara and the embrace of Moksha. I wrote the secrets of identifying that God is present in all things and I wrote all this without thinking too hard on it, for the words were sealed upon my heart; they were that very thing of which I was made.

I turned to the people, little shivering slips of paper, the image on their strips flipping their heads like poorly-animated cartoons. Their frantic movement, their chattering…it awakened an odd distaste in me. I pointed to the board and read to them what was on it, but they appeared not to hear. A few of them saw segments of the board, and I hoped they would talk to one another. The cosmos beckoned me; I could not stay in this room another moment. I left them, thinking they would talk amongst themselves, sharing ideas and therefore perceiving my message.

I do not remember what I did when I was outside of the room.

When I came back, everything was on fire. The slips of paper were ripping one another, burning amongst the flames, others were drowning one another, the ink running and screams, screams filling the air. Severely disappointed, and with an air of one destroying a malicious pest, I stretched my hand over them and shut my fist. Immediately, they were sucked back into the earth and into the realm of death. The screams were silenced. The flames were blown out. I was alone again in this miniscule section of an ever-stretching universe, a faint scent of smoke upon the air.

I rested for a moment, my hand still a fist in the air. Slowly, I opened it again, and I called into existence the same amount of humans, who shivered like little slips of flame. Again I taught them the lesson, writing it more clearly on the board, repeating it at times, just to be clear. Once again, the universe beckoned, and I left them alone.

When I returned, it was the same story. Flames enveloped the earth, the humans drowned one another, and ripped others to shreds. They just…kept…killing each other.

I felt the anger surging within me. Despite my attempt to calm myself, when I closed my fist to demolish them, it was with a quickness far greater than the previous time. My entire body was tense and the lingering smell of smoke served as a reminder of what I could not teach.

I paced the scorched earth, knowing in my heart that the true problem lied in their very design. Their brains were molded towards violence and fear, but this was not something over which I had dominion. This was Brahma’s territory, Lord of Creation, and I had only the ability to call forth life and destroy it if I saw fit.

Frustrated, I tried again. I called forth the humans and watched them shivering before me, unaware of my presence, unaware of the power I commanded over them. They chattered base and useless things, blind to the cosmos surrounding them.

A thought occurred to me that I should walk one human through the entire board, helping them to perceive the entire message. I made myself small, the size of the humans, and I stood behind one of them. I placed my hands on each side of the paper figure. When they joined and I felt the warmth of my own body through this being, I became aware of how thin they were…how very fragile. And in that moment, when such a fragile thing yielded to me and trusted me completely, despite being as frail and fleeting as a flower petal, I was filled with an overwhelming love towards this individual.

I realized, as the dreamer, that Lord Vishnu usually had best friends or brothers that were human, whom he loved immensely, like Arjuna. Standing there, with this paper-thin being between my hands, I nearly wept with love.

Slowly, I moved the human from their place at the edge of the board, careful not to upset or damage them, until they had perceived the entire board. The human puzzled this over, trying to piece together all the two-dimensional slices they had received. I approached the next human.

I repeated this process until I had walked every human through the lesson. They each puzzled it. Some began to talk to one another, working out their perceptions, for the moment, at peace. I returned to my place in the stars, watching them, this time without boredom or frustration, but with an immense love that warmed me to the core and brimmed beyond my skin like an aura or a glow. I finally had hope for these creatures. They were learning.

That is where my dream ended. I hope I have not offended anyone in what I experienced. I am but a slip of paper like everyone else, and do not assume myself to be equal to Lord Vishnu or God or whoever it is that runs this place. I just wanted to share something with you that I found inspiring. Let me know your thoughts, concerns, or interpretations; I’ll be interested to hear.

Much love,

Paula aka. Squonkhunter


2 Comments Add yours

  1. Glot says:

    For your dream, I asked my mother for an interpretation, because she has studied psychoanalisis. This is the interpretation she gave.
    In your dream, you are portrayed by the god Vishnu (who has the ability to create and give life) because you’re an artist: you create characters and events. That’s a bit like bringing something or someone to life.
    At some point in your life, you understood that you need to love your characters in order to make the message they represent be perceived. You have to love what you have created. And you love them because you identify yourself in them, you become them. This is what your dream means.
    Sorry for any mistakes, I’m a non-native English speaker.
    Much love,
    Glot :)
    P.S. Your drawing style is amazing! :D You inspired me to learn to draw.

    1. Squonk Hunter says:

      Thank you for the interpretation, Glot! It is definitely spot on. I do see myself in my characters. I think this dream might have meanings beyond that as well, but it is a good interpretation, and a truthful one.
      I’m so glad you’re inspired to draw! Your English is very good. Se vuole parlare in italiano, ho studiato la lingua, ma non sono perfetta.
      Thank you again for your interest and for commenting. :)

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