Encounters with the Devil


It happens that I have regular dreams of the Devil. The Devil has a habit of showing up as a guide who takes me for a stroll around houses and places I don’t know. He tells me secrets.

I know that it’s the Devil I’m encountering in these dreams because on each occasion, when he tells me his name, I instantly recognize him as the Devil.

The Devil’s names are always foreign and can range from Chinese to Portuguese.

The name of the Devil in my last night’s dream was Leitao. In real life I happen to be familiar with the work of occultist José Leitao, who writes about the Devil, but in this dream there was no such correlation.

I’m never afraid when the Devil introduces himself, and I go, ‘Ah, the Devil, enchanted’. As I have a penchant for emptiness, I meet the Devil from this ‘perspective’. This is always clear in my dreams.

Last night the dream was about a birthday party. My birthday. I was the host in a house I don’t know, making sure all the guests were comfortable. One in particular seemed tensioned, and I was alert to what I could do about it.

The Devil showed up, introduced himself as Leitao, and then proceeded to taking me around the house, as usual, and telling me things. Quite mundane this time around.

We got interrupted by a male guest, who undressed himself and started strolling, showing his privates in plain view. He still had his shirt on, but unbuttoned, and I remarked that he was very casual about the whole thing.

The other guests also started to undress themselves too, when they saw him, and I was amazed by the women’s underwear: very decadent, all lace, and quite interesting. I felt a twinge of envy, as I never buy anything like it. I buy all my underwear at the supermarket.

I looked at the first guest and noticed that he had no erection. I approved of this. Then I looked at the guest who was uncomfortable. He was increasingly more tensioned and I felt sorry for him. To make him relax, I made a pronouncement: All my birthday parties will henceforth feature nakedness, because that was the best way to celebrate a birthday. The tensioned one relaxed a bit more, and everyone turned to doing what they were doing when they all had their clothed on.

Leitao took his farewell and I woke up.

The first thing in the morning I did was to ask the cards:

What’s up with the Devil?

The cards didn’t say. They merely repeated my dream:

The Lovers, the Fool, the Devil

camelia elias, marseille tarot, devil, lovers, fool

Fair enough. What is there to say? Comment some more on the one who enticed the party to undress, on the way the Fool card represents the very thing itself called ‘the private part’? Not so private anymore.

The presence of the Lovers in this sequence of cards reminded me of another dream 3 nights earlier, when the Devil showed up again. He took me to a wedding. Neither of us were invited, so we kept to ourselves, just observing.

What I noticed was that the whole wedding party looked entirely lifeless. People were slouching on cushions, catatonic, and the bride and the groom seemed indifferent. They were also terribly lifeless.

I turned to the Devil and told him that I felt very sad on behalf of this couple. The Devil then said, ‘the man has no love life.’ He made no comment about the woman. He then disclosed that in spite of this situation they were going on their honeymoon to Dubai.

I woke up and went to work.

When I have dreams like these I am very amused, but at the same time, I am also very interested in how agendas are disclosed and distributed.

When the Devil visits, I am hardly ever a participant. I am more an observant. I always have the distinct feeling that what I’m seeing and reflecting upon – another major trait in my dreams, namely the fact that I’m aware of my reflecting and reasoning – happens not only in a parallel reality just as I dream it, but it also happens in ordinary consciousness.

How vast our dreamworld! I’m grateful that my emptiness is ever so spacious and fascinating, thus capable of accommodating all sorts of unusual mirrorings.