It began in a kitchen, the kitchen of my childhood home, the place where the first sensations of warmth and light once entered the world. Yet in the dream it was completely dark. I tried to strike a match to make fire, but each match failed to ignite. The air was thick with waiting, as if all potential light had withdrawn into silence.
Then the atmosphere changed. A presence, gentle and luminous, emerged in the room: a benevolent female figure, indistinct in form yet unmistakably comforting. I later understood her name: Lucea, the one who brings light. She carried sketches or drawings, patterns perhaps, and I began to speak about them as if they were external works of art. But she stopped me. “No,” she said, “it is all you. You can choose what to create.” Her words dissolved the distance between the artist and the image. Creation was not something to be made, it was something to be remembered.
Then Lucea turned her gaze to the space beyond the room. “There is much more to understand than you think,” she said softly. Her voice carried both promise and gravity. She embraced me, and together we dissolved, two presence descending into the deeper dark. Not falling, but merging into a silent current. There were two stages to this vanishing, two breaths of disappearance, and with the second I knew that the dark itself was not absence but depth without any dimension. It was good.
The Vision Interpreted
Dreams like this stand at the threshold between symbolic revelation and inner event. They carry the structure of a mystical initiation, unfolding spontaneously from the deeper layers of mind. The setting: the kitchen, might signifi transformation through heat, the alchemical process of turning base material into nourishment. The failure of the matches is the exhaustion of outer will, the end of reliance on ordinary fire. Only then can the inner flame appear.
Lucea arises as an archetype of the luminous feminine, the soul’s guiding principle in the journey toward light. Her name, rooted in lux, is not accidental: she personifies the radiance that emerges when consciousness accepts darkness as its own matrix. The sketches she brings are the images of potential, the many worlds one could create, and her teaching that “it is all you” reveals the essential doctrine of the Yoga of the Inner Light: every form perceived, every phosphene, every vision, is the mind’s own projection of light upon itself.
Her final act, the embrace and descent, transforms the usual spiritual direction. Instead of rising into illumination, she seems to invites a deeper involution, a movement downward into the fertile dark where the opposites unite. In alchemical language this is the coniunctio, the sacred union of light and matter, consciousness and its source. The disappearance in two stages suggests the progressive surrender of form and individuality until only the luminous void remains.
Philosophical Reflection
In the context of the Yoga of the Inner Light, Lucea represents the intelligence of the light that knows itself. She appears when the practitioner ceases to struggle for perception and allows the inner luminosity to unfold. The darkness that once concealed now becomes a womb. The light no longer appears as an object to be seen but as a subject to be lived from. What is revealed is the silent realization that there is no duality between seer and seen, between the one who seeks and the one who embraces.
This dream marks a turning point in the contemplative path: when illumination ceases to be something to achieve and becomes something that absorbs. It is not the victory of the matchstick but the surrender to the infinite depth behind light itself.
Afterthought
Upon waking, the feeling remained, not as emotion but as a quiet certainty that something had been completed. Lucea’s descent is the soul’s reminder that illumination is not a flight upward but a homecoming inward. The true light does not blind; it dissolves boundaries until even the dark shines.
Thus the dream becomes teaching, and the teacher, the ultimate darkness itself. Shunyam Adhibhu
Have no fear
For when I’m alone
I’ll be better off
Than I was before
I’ve got this life
I’ll be around to grow
Who I was before
I cannot recall
[Chorus]
Long nights allow
Me to feel I’m falling
I am falling
The lights go out
Let me feel I’m falling
I am falling safely to
The ground
Ah
[Verse 2]
I’ll take this soul
That’s inside me now
Like a brand new friend
I’ll forever know
I’ve got this life
And the will to show
I will always be
Better than before
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