I didn’t want to get up at four thirty and write this but it was the most intense spiritual experience I’ve had in decades.
The beginning of the dream was fun: a private (like a country club), open-air amphitheater that was somewhat fair-like and had silk tent-like sheds and stone paths. one of the sheds belonged to my mother and I went in– I somehow had the right to go in but I knew I wasn’t supposed to. I stole something small, insignificant, candy I think it was, and just made note of what was there. they were gifts meant for myself and my brother and sisters (all smaller). outside I talked to my young siblings (who were my children) and some other kids my age (who were former neighbors’ kids that I know). I was a mid-teen.
we left and went to a very large home with very large grounds, but urban. there were many people living in the house, and people who worked there. I was looking through my mothers’ things (it was really my mother), just out of curiosity I think, and came across something like my baby book. It had birthstones next to my name, my father’s name, and my mother’s name. I wasn’t very interested in my father but my mother’s birthstone was moonstone and mine was some sort of pink quartz or something like. the writing said something about my father’s birthstone and that was why he was so distant from us, uninvolved.
then I was told to come on, we were going and we walked out to the back of the property to the one adjoining ours to the back and side. I was looking at the art on the walls, much of it carved. we were there to see the family and Ron and his brother were the children my age. one or both of them had carved the art, I was told. I remember there was some sort of porcelain teapot or vase in a stone niche in the wall and when I touched it my hand was shaking so badly that I nearly knocked the object down. my mother quietly but strictly admonished me. I remember looking around thinking how beautiful everything was. it wasn’t as old or big a house as ours but it was much more lavish in its way. there were gorgeous gardens and a complicated stone water-feature.
after that I found myself in a remote part of the city, in a stone building. I realized someone was following me and I started running up some stairs. it was night. I knew they were going to catch me even though I was faster (I could hear by their steps on the stone). I was cornered. then I realized something had changed about how I was seeing reality. I knew it wasn’t right. I was in some gangster scene. I knew the guy was going to kill me, mob-style, but I also knew I wasn’t seeing it correctly somehow. I kept thinking this isn’t right– I have to change the channel! but he let me know he was there to kill me for my [betrayal, dishonesty?] and I realized there was no getting out of it. I walked down the stone steps in front of him after he pulled out this huge silver gun (very movie-like and still feeling like the scene was wrong somehow). I desperately wanted to run or immaturely beg for my life but I knew there was no point. and he shot me in the back of the head.
I remember thinking, ‘this is what it feels like to die– I’m dying– how can I be dying? oh well.’ and then as I kept on going out of my body I remember saying to the man who shot me, ‘I forgive you.’ I felt myself being pulled upward through the walls. it was light outside and I thought the rest of the world was being pulled up too but it was just that so many other dying things were being pulled up at the same time that it looked like the world was leaking color upward. it was mostly flowers and fish (lots of stone ponds in a huge garden near where I was). as I drifted up I was making a soft keening sound I’ve heard cultures make in grief. I drifted by a booth in a market nearby (which was higher up a hillside) and the older woman saw me and spoke to me. it was kindly, but she reminded me that I had stolen from my father, carved colored pieces of stone that were very valuable, and had kept them hidden in a container of melons. and I remember thinking, ‘ah yes, I’m sorry.’
and I kept on going up, looking at the world I was ascending from and weeping, not because I was sad, really, but because it was so beautiful and I was leaving forever. I remember calling out to everything, trees, people, buidings, ‘goodbye! I will miss you!’
and then I awoke. to tears streaming down my face for several minutes. it was very intense. I’ve not had a dream like it in ages, if ever. it was much more vivid and intense that an average dream.
