Opened Door

Last night I again had very vivid dreams, dreams that seem to be directing me and asking me to explore aspects of my Self which I have previously chosen to abandon.

Searching for Father

In the first very vivid dream I was with many orphaned young boys in a very large mansion that appeared to be a boarding school of some kind. Specifically, I was working with a boy whose father was Arnold Schwarzenegger. The boy was the bastard of Arnold and so had no real relationship with him. The other boys were in similar predicaments and I was helping them to meet their father’s for the first time.

The young Schwarzenegger stood in line very nervous. He went up some stairs and I followed with my consciousness (I do not recall having a body but seemed to follow the story and act as a guide to the child). When the child got to the door he was nervous and a loud voice boomed out to him from a speaker, asking him questions about himself. The voice was of his father and the child answered as he stood with the body guard not knowing if he would be let in.

The child was allowed in and found himself standing inside a chamber filled with odd items that I could not name. They looked like very large, blown up silver shrapnel and wires tossed about and every once in a while there appeared to be a yellow or red flash of light. I, at this time, felt to be one with the child and experienced this with him. I suddenly knew where we were: we were inside the brain of his father. I recognized instantly the items strewn about to be the neurons and pathways of the brain. The lights were the paths lightening up when a thought occurred. It was quite fascinating and all at once I realized that the brain and the body were like a robot controlled by the spirit who occupied it. I saw this first hand and knew this man in real life was allowing his body to control him more than he was controlling the body. He was the robot.

33Looking for 33

The dream changed at that point and I found myself with my great aunt (the sister of my grandmother who passed away last year). She was driving a truck and I was the passenger. She appeared happy and alert but I was distrustful of her because in real life she has dementia.

She drove along the road heading through a city. I saw road signs and heard her say the road name. I watched as we drove by it. The truck lurched and made awful noises and I swore it would fall apart. I held on for dear life.

We went past the city onto a dirt road that quickly turned rocky. Boulders stood in the way and my great aunt happily drove over them. Eventually we were forced to stop as the road dead ended in a pile of rocks and a mountain side. I explored it and saw a mirror perched on a bolder facing the mountain. I looked up and saw a handful of rugged men with wild eyes looking at us and knew this was not where we belonged. I took the mirror and flung it at them. It shattered at their feet. I turned and ran yelling behind me for a man who was with me to pick up my great aunt and bring her along.

We reentered the city and I heard the man (my guide?) say, “33 is this way. You will see it clearly”. I listened and went with him. Soon I saw a cafeteria and tables with numbers. I clearly saw table number 33 and went toward it. When we got there I saw two older black women sitting in the table. I let my middle son sit with them and opted to sit at another table next to them, table number 99. There was a nice black lady sitting at it, too.

Eventually I went over to table 33 with my son and spoke with the black ladies. They asked about my son and his growth. I said he had not gained much in weight or height. One woman said to me, “This is common of the middle and younger children in our family. They are often deformed”. I thought this odd and then asked, “I wonder, do you have abilities in your family, too? My grandmother is the only one that had them in my family”. The lady told me, “Yes, our mother had abilities. She would often confuse her other life with this one, talking about times long gone. She was thought to be crazy by some and eventually she stopped talking about it”. I knew the life her grandmother was caught up in was during the middle ages and understood. I told her, “I have control over mine”.

She then asked me, “Is there anything you are concerned about?” I thought about it and then said, “Not really, but my legs are bothering me. I have all these spider veins now”. I pointed them out to her. As I thought about what I was about to say next she said my thought back to me, “You wish you were black like me”. I answered, “Yes, especially now”. I remember wishing I were darker skin so no one would notice the spider veins and recalled my past life as a black woman.

Message: Spiritual Trauma

I awoke from the dreams instantly thinking of how I had been inside the brain of a man and then had been sitting at a table with the number 33. I wondered why I had chosen table 99 and then moved to 33. 99 means endings; that a part of my life is ending allowing for a new beginning. 33 symbolizes guidance and that all is possible at this time. I wondered briefly what it all meant.

Before I had time to think about it much further my guide began to speak to me.

“Spiritual trauma.”

All at once I was hit with knowingness. I wish I could adequately describe how this happens. It is so fast, so instantaneous, that all I can do to make sense of it is try to break it down. It is as if an entire dialogue occurs in an instant. One could say that it is “downloaded”, it happens so quickly.

I instantly knew these two little words were huge for me. My job is to help those experiencing spiritual trauma. I just knew it. I didn’t know how but the knowingness caused my heart and third chakras to activate and I lost my breath for a moment. To me, this is validation itself, big as day.

My mind went crazy with thoughts. What is spiritual trauma? What am I suppose to do? And then a realization, “So these are the instructions you told me were coming?”

My guide responded, “Yes. Just consider it” and I knew he meant I needed to listen with my heart. These were not instructions in the sense that I had to do what I was told. I could choose. I always have a choice.

I kept wondering about my dreams and the recent message, trying to make sense of it all. My guide interrupted and said, “Turn off your brain”. It stopped my thoughts and I realized what he meant. I needed to clear my thoughts and stop the whirlwind of questions. But I couldn’t. I was stuck on worrying about spiritual trauma. Was I in trauma? I did not think I was, but perhaps I had been.

My guide asked, “What are you afraid of?”

I replied, “My power”. Then I thought some more and I said, “My quick tongue. I need to think more before I speak. I often hurt others feelings when I blurt out things. I need to stop doing that”.

He replied, “The biggest challenge we face in life is fear of ourselves”.

86798832-open-door1Opened Door

I kept hearing over and over, “Turn off your brain”. So that is what I attempted to do. When I finally did, I found myself standing at a door. I was wearing a heavy winter coat and it was dark. The door began to open slowly, light pouring though. I walked through into a wintery scene but it was obvious the snow was melting. Spring was on the way. Warmth was spreading out and bringing new life to a desolate place. I saw I was standing on a sidewalk lined by large trees. Icicles were heavy on their branches and dripping with water

Recognizing what was happening I became too aware and the scene in front of me faded. I understood it to mean that something frozen in my life was thawing out. In dreams, something being frozen represents that which has been suppressed, rejected or denied. Could this vision indicate that my spiritual gifts are about to reemerge? I have for sure suppressed them for a very long time.

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