Short version = A recurring dream is bugging me again. I keep replaying part of an unusual event. Lately a stone I currently have in my collection is being featured in that dream.
Been bugged by a recurring dream. The dream itself, is a replay of an actual event. Not a complete recall of the initial event, nor is it consistent from night to night. That is not surprising, as I wasn’t completely conscious for the initial event.
Look back about 15 years. I’ve gathered with some friends to play Dungeons and Dragons. Jolt Cola is flowing faster than the broken faucet in the kitchen. We take breaks every now and then. Sometimes to eat, sometimes to watch a movie. We’re pretty much holed up in a friend’s apartment for the weekend.
We’re a strange group. A Wiccan couple, Tara and Josh. Mark was a self-professed magic practitioner. Craig was Buddhist. I was Christian at that time. And we were all holed up in Jack’s apartment, and Jack was as “undecided” as you could get. (All names have been changed, privacy, etc.)
We were watching TV after dinner, when Mark leans over and asks, “I know you are Christian, but would you mind if I examined your spirits?” My what? “You have some things accompanying you, something like spirits. And I am curious what they are, and why they are hanging around a confessed Christian.” He asked the others if they saw anything unusual.
Josh saw nothing. Tara mentioned that my aura was “twisted and braided”. Craig said that he always felt a black-hole effect around me, one that would bleed off negative energy, but to no ill. Jack only mentioned that I could drink more Jolt Colas than he could and that was surely indicative of something unusual as he was concerned.
Quite adventurous, and curious myself, I gave Mark permission to invade my physical and spiritual personal space. He asked me to make myself comfortable on the couch, but to drape my arms along the back of the couch. Sit upright, but allow my head to tilt back. I could keep my eyes open if I pleased, which I did.
He occasionally placed a hand in his pocket, holding something. I knew he kept a bag of magic items with him all the time. I imagined he was fingering one item or another, to increase his perception. Sometimes he held a hand over my head. Sometimes he held his hands over my own, or over my shoulders. Amused, yet bored, I closed my eyes, and just relaxed and sat lazily.
For several minutes, no one said anything. I would occasionally peek up at Mark’s face, watching it furrow a bit, but he gave no indication of anything wrong. The last thing I remember clearly, was a horrible chill suddenly deadening my arms and legs. I panicked, and attempted to sit up. The chill quickly spread. I was unable to move. Tara suddenly spoke. “Her aura! It’s gone solid black!”
Here, my memory is distorted. I want to say, that I shook off the chill, and stood up. I want to say, that Mark had pulled a parlor trick on me. What I remember, was leaping from the couch to the other side of the room. Trying to speak, but no sound was leaving me. I turned to face Mark, to confront Mark.
I turned to see my body twitching on the couch. Hands gnarled, back arched. Craig reaching for the phone to call an ambulance, Jack reaching for me to turn my body to one side. Josh sat still in shock, with Tara’s fingers digging deep into his arm.
Mark snapped at Jack, not to touch me. He told Craig not to call for medics. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small leather bag. Out of the bag, he pulled what looked like stones. He chose one, whispered something to it, and placed it squarely on my forehead.
His finger on the stone, the stone on my forehead, I felt the pressure intensely. He said something, in a soft, gentle voice. I can not recall what he said. Only that the vibrations of the sound carried into whatever state I was in, and swept me into something like a deep sleep.
Eventually, reality came back to me, loud and garrulous. Every muscle ached and strained. I started to shake uncontrollably. Mark kept me pinned to the couch with that deceptively light touch. He still had his finger on the stone. The stone was still on my forehead. But now I felt feverish and heated. In contrast, the stone felt as cold as ice.
He began to whisper something, barely audible. Loud enough for me to hear sound, not loud enough for me to make out what he was saying. The more he muttered, the more calm I became, the colder the stone froze. A few more mutterings, then he brushed my cheek with his other hand. “When I tell you, count to 3. On 3, allow yourself to fall asleep. You’re safe now, you’re among friends. Begin.”
When I awoke, I was laying prone on the couch. A pillow under my head, a blanket tucked around me. I pretended to be asleep, and just listened. Tara was bugging Mark to see the stone he had used. Mark was refusing, saying that what he had pulled into the stone was dangerous. Craig mentioned that I was awake. I opened my eyes and glared at him a bit. I asked him how did he know, he said I stopped snoring. Mark insisted I eat something, then we resumed our D&D festivities as if nothing had happened.
When the dream begins, the scenario starts just after Mark has positioned me on the couch. Sometimes, I see the “some things” that had concerned Mark. Usually, I only feel the chill of their presence. Sometimes, they have a malicious feel to them. Sometimes, they are clingy, like scared children.
I look up at Mark, I see spikes of light surrounding his hands. Spirals of light swirling around the pocket with the leather bag. When he brings his hands close to me, the light around his hands stabs at the “things” that are clinging to me. This upsets them. They are unable to defend themselves against Mark, so they begin to race into my flesh, to hide from him. The act of possession makes me tremble and shake.
When he places the stone on my forehead, it changes shape. It becomes a large javelin, a thin spear. In the dream, he takes this spear, the shaft of which is charged with lights, and drives it not into my flesh, but into my spirit. It is this that forces my spirit out of my body. The spear doesn’t harm me, just shifts me away. The things that are hiding inside of me, do not fare as well. The spear pierces them. The light it brought with it hooks into the dark things, and draws them into the spear. The spear vibrates with the sound of his voice, locking the things into the spear with bindings of light.
The intruders now captured, the sound changes. Instead of the spear driving me from my flesh, it is now pulling me back into my body. Mark’s soothing voice emanating from the spear, the sound holds me fast back in my flesh.
When he has me count to three, I don’t fall instantly to sleep. For a brief moment, I am still looking through my eyes. As I count, the spear morphs back into the original stone form. As I say “three”, and start to fall asleep, he lifts the stone from my forehead, and I can see it clearly. Each time I have had this dream, the stone takes on a fuzzy shape. The colors melt and shift. It is indistinct. Once I “fall asleep” in the dream, I wake up in the real world.
The dream has been this way for years, until several months ago.
I have a chiastolite in my collection. It has been quite inert and unassuming. Several months ago, I have *felt* a pulling towards it. As I have had this recurring dream, the end of it changes. When he lifts the stone from my forehead, I see quite clearly, the chiastolite of my collection.
Here, in the Waking, when I hold the chiastolite, I feel a definite disconnect between physical and mental. Perhaps I shall take pictures tomorrow. I would like to present it to a knowledgeable friend of mine. However, she is pregnant and I am loathe to bring something that may place her at risk.
Time for me to perform hands on learning.