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True Stories That Changed My Life My October 2007 Dream |
In early October 2007 I took a brief road trip. During that trip I had a dream that seems possibly significant. As I tend to pay attention to such dreams I thought I'd share here, along with my thoughts on it. As the dream occurred within the context of the trip, you may wish to read my posts on it. There are also several nice pictures through these links. Here I will present a few relevant excerpts as well as part seven in its entirety.
My Road Trip Posts:
My Road Trip Begins! October 01, 2007
My Road Trip: Post Two October 05, 2007
My Road Trip: Post Three October 05, 2007
My Road Trip: Post Four October 05, 2007
My Road Trip: Post Five October 05, 2007
My Road Trip: Post Six October 06, 2007
My Road Trip: The Dream October 06, 2007
My Road Trip Ends October 06, 2007Near Salt Lake City I visited a placed called the Saltair. It is referenced in the retelling of this dream and described in post four (click here)
After leaving Salt Lake City I continued eastward toward Denver. I began feeling ill and this is where this sharing begins:
8:30 PM Oct 3:
I'm at a rest area now somewhere in Colorado... not sure exactly where... I'm not feeling so hot so I decided to make food....
I finished eating and continued east on I 70 but I began to feel progressively worse.
As I drove along down the freeway a stabbing pain hit me in the left side of my chest and I pulled quickly over to the side of the road. Sitting there it grew worse and I thought I might be having a stroke. I sat there for a few minutes, my cell phone on the seat beside me just in case, and after ten minutes or so the pain subsided.
...
So... I started up the truck again and continued on. About forty minutes later, this would be around ten PM, another wave of these sword-like pains hit hard. Fortunately I was approaching a rest area at the time and pulled in. This time the pain was worse and I debated calling 9-11 (I was several miles from the nearest hospital to my knowledge). I sat in the cab of my truck waiting for the pains to subside. When they more or less did, I went to the back of the truck and laid down on the cot I have set up there planning to spend the night in rest area.
But as I settled down on the cot the worst wave of pain yet hit. The pain contorted me into fetal position and the thought occurred to me that I might be about to die. I prayed that this would not be the case as I very much want to see the end of the story, at the least the rise of the Rex Mundi (I have no doubt that if I live a normal lifespan I will witness this event).
But the pain intensified.
I considered calling my significant other and two sons but realized all this would accomplish would be to worry them. There was nothing they could do and there would be no point in this. So I entered into meditation instead using a basic pranayam technique I like and determined to survive whatever was happening to me.
And so in my consciousness I journeyed from Virat (the conscious mind) to Hiranyagarbha (universal mind) and into Ishvara (a transcendent meditative state) and finally found peace and physical relief in Turiya (the state of oneness). I remained in this state for some time and eventually drifted into a deep sleep.
Now, as I say, here's where things get a bit odd.
Those of you who have read my MyStory section at AllFaith.com will understand when I say that sometimes time frames are not entirely clear or accurate for me. In my Turiya charged sleep I dreamt a meaningful dream. However as usual when I go to sleep directly from Turiya my sleep was too deep to remember my dreams upon awakening (which is why I don't normally do this; I pay close attention to my dream works).
So it was that when I awoke I knew I had dreamt something significant but I could not remember any of it. Last night I had this same dream again. How can I know it was the same dream if I don't remember having it on the night of the third? I just do... As I say, time frames don't always work for me... I recount this dream below.
There seems to be a couple of connections between this dream and my lifelong recurring dream. This is extremely interesting to me and I have been engaged in dream work and contemplation for the past few days hoping to understand these connections. Following the retelling of the dream I will discuss my realizations from it. These will probably be updated from time to time as my understandings develop.
As I say, I didn't recall the dream when I woke up the next morning, all I knew was that I had had 'one of those dreams'.
While I didn't hear a thing with my physical ears other than the sounds of trucks on the highway, I heard a voice demanding me to Go Home!
...
I sensed I needed to cancel the road trip and return home to California. I discuss this more completely in blog post number six. As I pondered what to do, a thought occurred to me very strongly that I had not considered in many many years. I recalled how my paternal grandfather had died of a stroke when I was a kid. As he often was, he had been at our house for Christmas and the day after my birthday had left, driving home. As he was leaving I knew something was wrong. I begged my parents to let me go with him. I didn't know why I felt so certain that I needed to go, but I knew it! They refused however. On the way home he had the stroke and crashed his car into a tree and died within a few hours. I always felt a tinge of guilt over not making my desire to accompany him clearer... had I been with him I could have grabbed the wheel and saved his life.
This memory flooded my mind as I considered driving on eastward as planned and the continuing pain in my chest seemed to confirm this consideration.
Now under these circumstances of course the intelligent thing would have been to call 9-11 (I probably should have done so the night before, practically speaking) but I didn't. Instead I looked at this as divine direction and obeyed. At the next exit I headed back west.
The Dream (Oct. 3/5, 2007)
I was in a palatial building like a grand hotel ballroom. There seems to have been some connection with the Salt Lake City Saltair. I discuss earlier in this travel log. If so, the setting seems more reminiscent of the earlier First Saltair even though my sense was that this experience took place in present (time lines don't always work for me), indeed, in the early morning hours of October 4th, 2007. I saw nothing on my visit to the Third Saltair that fit this dream exactly but as I saw the model of the First Saltair there was a definite sense of deje vu for me.
In my dream I was in a small room on the second floor of this magnificent building. The door was open and I could hear the people milling about on the second floor and the general buzzing roar of the people on the main floor below. Just outside my door was the ornate top of a curved marble and gold plated staircase.
I glanced over my shoulder as someone walked past the door. I didn't want to be there! I was unhappy and felt a bit resentful for having to be. I knew I had the right to be there, but I didn't want to be. I'd rather not attend such events nor even be in such decadent surroundings. Plus I didn't feel good and that didn't make things any easier. In the dream as well as in my truck my chest was hurting badly. The pain was as though I had been stabbed. I think I may have been (in the dream) although I was not aware of any blood. I didn't feel good and all I wanted to do was go home so I could die in peace from my wounds. But i couldn't go anywhere. Not until this was over and I remembered something I had forgotten.
This sense that I had forgotten something important is the first connection to my lifelong recurring dream. That dream/memory takes place in Nazi Germany (I was Bulgarian) while this one had a decidedly contemporary feel to it. If not in Salt Lake City, I knew it certainly takes place in contemporary North America. Nonetheless I have always believed that while my recurring dream is a memory of my past life (and has been confirmed to my satisfaction) it also holds something I need to "remember" in this one. That lack of remembering is a central theme in both dreams. I believe I may be beginning to understand this connection. Hopefully I will be granted more on this.
As I explain above, in the dream I had been hanging out alone in a second floor side room. When the time came for some sort of celebration, maybe a birthday party or the marking of some accomplishment that the people were very excited by but which I was not, someone came in and told me to come and join the festivities. I declined as I did not share their excitement, but was told that I had a "moral and legal obligation" to attend. This sense struck me very hard in the dream and I knew it was true. Like it or not, I had to attend... unless I could remember, then I could leave...
So I left the small room and approached the staircase to go down to the main ballroom.
There were several people milling about and debating philosophy and various obscure points of religion, especially prophecy. A couple of very fat men in expensive suits were talking, one was leaning his obese weight on the low gold plated second floor balcony and I thought, If that balcony gives way he's a gonner!
While I didn't hear exactly what the people were debating, I had the distinct impression that none of them knew or really even cared about the truth of what they were talking about. I was somewhat angered about this because I knew they were all trying to press their own agendas by using people's uninformed faith-based gullibilities. The only question in their minds was how best to accomplish this.
As I reached the head of the staircase to begin my descent, an old haggard woman who looked to be over a hundred years of age cut me off abruptly.
That's rude, I thought but said nothing to her. She deserved some added consideration due to her age, poor health and physical weakness.
Suddenly it was as if someone unseen had stabbed me in the chest with a sword! I experienced that sharp, cold sensation and my body contracted around the entry point. I grabbed my chest over my heart and collapsed to the floor in pain. I could taste metallic tainted blood in my mouth and felt my life beginning to flow out of me. I knew I was about to leave this body for good and at some level thought, Its about time! but at another I was fearful, Its not time yet! I haven't remembered!
Just then there was movement in front of me and I looked up from my chest wound. The old woman had turned and was looking at me as if she realized she had cut me off at the head of the stairs, but that was the least of my concerns now! Yet I sensed that she felt sorry for her unintended rudeness. She'd had no real choice in any of this... any more than I had... In her eyes was a question I could neither answer nor fathom.
"I'm..." she started to say, but then stopped. Then she smiled a sad look mixed with contrition and well intentions, "I meant well..." She fell back onto the stairs.
"Wait!" I yelled reaching out for her with bloodied hands but I couldn't reach her. When I tried to lean towards her the pain in my chest was simply too extreme and I had to stop. In a way that somehow doesn't seem to have worked harmoniously with the laws of physics, she managed to grab my ankles. Her grip was tight, much too tight... it hurt me but she was latched on for dear life and was not about to release me lest she tumble down the steep stairwell head over end. I could understand that, but it was still painful.
Around us the people ignored our ongoing struggle as though we weren't even there. They continued with their debates and plotting as though completely oblivious to our life and death plight. A few even stepped over us without comment and made their ways down the stairs to ballroom where they were warmly greeted by the others. They wore most exquisite gowns and suits, dhotis, kurtis and saris, abayas and dishdashas with ornate bishts, others wore kilts with gold plated sporrans... in all cases they were attired with repulsively expensive dress clothing and jewelry of the finest and most expensive varieties.
As for the woman I was now so desperately trying to save, I knew that some of the people loved this woman dearly but for most she was simply a dried up husk of her former self with nothing else to offer and so, to them, she had become irrelevant, her life was now meaningless. She was expendable.
And I was laying there on the ebony marble floor, my chest throbbing, my sight blurred by my tears of pain and the blood gushing from my mouth and chest...
I sat up and reached out hoping to pull the woman back up onto the landing. That much I decided I would do regardless of the pain.
With effort I got her onto her back and away from the maw of the staircase, the whole time trying hard not to scream due the pain in my own chest. My bloodied hands made it difficult to maintain my grasp of her... I've got to get home!!! I'll save her, but then I have to get home! I was obsessed and driven by this need... I must!!!
But first I had to help this woman. Its why I'm here in the first place, for this moment.
Then, before my tortured eyes I saw beyond this woman, beyond the Saltair or wherever I was... I saw a trail I had seen before! I know this trail! The trail cut through a rugged area that I had sought to navigate long ago but never with success. In the distance the sun was setting and I thought, I'm forgetting something! If only I could remember what I could go home! But I could not remember.
The old woman broke my concentration of the trail as she grabbed my left arm setting off another stabbing series of knife point insertions into my chest and this time I screamed as blood gushed out covering the floor and running down the stairs in a torrent. I could not withstand the need to scream. The pain was overwhelming.
I tore her hands from my arms and grabbed her head the way faith healers do and then, gazing into her dimming ancient eyes I shouted, "Its not time! You can't go yet!"
I began to pray that she would hear me but I feared it was too late for her, that she was already gone... I called on the Name of HaShem, carefully, loudly pronouncing the Sacred Tetragrammaton with a pronunciation I had never heard before but which I knew was correct. I begged HaShem to heal her and Y'shua to lend his support as well. Over her I proclaimed the Holy Name loudly. She couldn't die! Not yet! Not when I still couldn't remember!
But nothing was happening... So I began to pray harder, more intently, shouting out the Holy Name and firing my energies and intentions into the woman's mind that she would be healed and made whole. At least for a bit longer...
I realized that crowds were now gathering around us, watching us, concerned. They were angry at me! Furious in fact! How dare I do this work there! I knew they were trying to stop me but they were being prevented by an unseen presence (not by God, not directly, it should be noted). I ignored their protestations! I was adamant that this woman was not going to die! She was my only concern now. But she had become pale as death. From her eyes there was no light, no spark of life and I knew she had left...
Just then a medical doctor who had been standing idly nearby with his hands in his pockets (of golf pants), the right hand protectively over a large rectangular bulge that had to be his wallet, slowly, hesitantly approached and took the woman's pulse. He seemed fearful of the others but while he apparently felt no compunction to help the woman, he felt honor bound to confirm her death.
"She's dead," he said absently, without compassion as one might say, "Its a warm day."
"No!" I shouted, "she is not dead! I order you to wake up!" I commanded her and laid my hands again on her forehead. "Death is not an option for you yet!"
The doctor took her pulse again, felt the vein in neck and said, "Son, she is dead. She lived a long life. It is her turn to dance with the Reaper."
"No!" I demanded again. "In the Name of God! No!"
Just then the sharpest stab yet pierced my chest. It seemed to go all the way through my body. I paused for a moment, experienced this sensation and then doubled over and screamed.
Everything went black then as though I had passed out from the pain. But apparently mere moments later I returned to normal consciousness; nothing of consequence had changed.
I looked at the elderly woman before me. She was white as a sheet. It was then, across the room and not quite physically present that I saw an old comrade named Ed standing alone. He had been shielding me, keeping the attackers at bay and had now resuscitated me so that I could continue the spiritual battle for the woman's life. He smiled a half smile and continue his work in unobtrusive silence.
I looked at the still dead corpse of the woman before me but my pain was gone for the moment.
From somewhere deep within I knew what to do next. I took a deep breath and said, "In the Name of God Most High arise!
She sat up.
The people gasped in disapproving horror. The doctor stood and tsked, and demanded that this wasn't permissible, that she needed to stay dead.
From all around me a single voice shouted "GO HOME!"
I jumped up and started running....
...I kicked off my sleeping bag, opened the curtain in the camper shell and hurried out into the parking lot of the Colorado rest area...
I knew I had had 'one of those dreams' but could not then remember it...
My thoughts on this dream coming soon.
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