The Source of all Form

Note: I am now waiting up to 5 months before posting my lucid dreams. This means I am always approximately 25 lucid dreams behind.

November 5, 2013
Last dream of the night.

Stinger (my husband) and I are leaving our house at night. In the front yard to the right of the door, the long black early 20th century woman’s coat he bought me at an antique mall years ago is standing upright on its own. There is the suggestion of a head half rising out of the coat wearing a black hat. Hanging across the back of the coat (between where the shoulder blades would be) is a heart-shaped purse with a red jewel in the center. As we hurry down the driveway, I see the eerie Halloween-like decoration turn its head to watch us. I ask Stinger if he saw that, but he didn’t… Almost immediately, we are returning home. The driveway and house are very similar to our waking reality home except that some details and directions are slightly shifted. As we walk by the black coat-figure, I remark that maybe we should have left it out for Halloween, and it turns its head to watch us as we walk past it and enter the house. I am also watching it closely, alarmed and yet thrilled by this evidence that it is alive, a spirit. I’m desperately trying to get Stinger to become aware of it, but he doesn’t seem to believe me.

As we stand just inside the open door, I watch the figure come to life completely, as though no longer interested in trying to scare us. It is holding a long black umbrella, and I watch in fascination as it heads down the long black driveway shooting objects in its path with an energy that emanates from the tip of the umbrella like water and fire combined. I cry, “You go, Susie S. Mayo!” (a possible other lifetime of mine). But as her rampage continues, I yell, “Stop that! Just move on, Susie!” She turns to face me, and abruptly transforms into a little girl dressed just like Alice in wonderland, in a blue Victorian dress with white accents. I cry, “Okay, Alice, go down your rabbit hole!” Full of energy, she shoots/runs eastward straight through the woodpile, which comes tumbling down after her. I say to Stinger, “You heard that commotion, right? That was the spirit running through your stack of firewood!” I think she’s gone, but abruptly she comes shooting back, and runs straight into the house, where she stands before us smiling defiantly up at me. I’m not scared of her but I am a little concerned that this restless, seemingly trapped spirit has entered our home and might prove difficult to extricate. As I talk to this invisible presence, Stinger watches my face, and I wonder if he thinks I’ve lost my mind because I’m talking to thin air. I lift my right hand with the palm facing the ghost’s face and say, “In the name of God, I command you…” I can tell from her contemptuous expression she believes I’m going to try and exorcise her like a demon, but I continue, “…I command you to be free!” Her face softens with surprise, and almost pleasure at this unexpected approach. I conclude, “Go find love. Go find those who love you and who you love!”

Even as I speak, the little girl becomes a tall heavily built man with dark hair who appears to me in black-in-white. He looms over me, but not threateningly. He reaches out to touch my raised hand with one of his. There is a very real sensation of warmth, with a slight frisson as of an electric current. We are both very interested in our ability to touch like this, and he communicates to me that normally he can’t feel anyone, and I admit this is the first time I’ve done this as well, meaning touched a spirit. I become aware then of two other black-and-white men in dark suits (who are almost like cartoons but who are decidedly real) standing beside Stinger, who appears unaware of them. I understand they are some sort of “Other Side police” who arrived to help, but who now just watch me because I appear to have the situation under control. I telepathically receive the information that they are now taking him back to Allegheny. I ask the man, “What is Allegheny?” and Stinger tells me some famous science fiction authors wrote about this place even as I receive images/impressions of large, fern-like leaves; of ancient, timeless plants, as though this soul began there and so it is like home. The “police guides” assure me that “she will like it there”. I see this “place”, blue sky and green land, yet it is not literally sky and land but rather the womb, or potential, of these things. And on the left he/she, so far away he/she is small as a doll, stands naked in what looks like a shining but slightly opaque square crystal the color of a jewel looking out upon this lovely “resort spa” that is not a resort at all but the way I am personally perceiving what a somehow know to be the lovely, restful, colorful, endless, liquid-solid living source of all things and forms.

After the spirit vanishes, I close the front door and walk to the other side of the house and Stinger steps out of a room in the corridor to greet me, smiling. He says something about the two men hanging around earlier because they sensed a disturbance, but every time they were going to take action, they realized I was handling the situation myself and so did not interfere. He looks very proud of me as he grabs me by the shoulders and leads me back to the front of the house as I exclaim, “Thank God! It would have been awful if you didn’t realize what was happening and just thought I had gone crazy because I was talking to empty air.” As we pass the area before the front door where it all happened, I think how the experience felt just like a lucid dream, except that I was awake. Stinger is not wearing a shirt and as we embrace, I distinctly feel his warmth… I phase out of this semi-lucid dream.

Earlier in the night… I enter a silent spacious room that is dark except for the light shining in from street lamps even though I see no lamps outside the glass walls. It is a gallery of sorts but I have eyes only for the huge and beautiful multi-winged yellow-and-white “butterfly” perched on a disc, or large “plate” decorated/engraved and resting as the primary exhibit on a circular stand. Then I look up. On the back wall, high up near the ceiling, I see other similarly magnificently big “alien butterflies” perched on the frames of paintings, which I can’t make out because the light does not quite reach that far. I notice the gallery is full of other people now…

Dream Notes:

Yesterday, I was thinking of visiting the town in West Virginia where lived Susie S. Mayo, a possible parallel/past life of mine:  Yesterday evening I was talking to Stinger about possibly visiting the grave of Susie S. Mayo in West Virginia. That is why she was on my mind in the final dream.

The source of all form, where I perceived the man-woman cocooned as though in a chrysalis of pure beautiful colors/powers, seems to relate to the golden multi-winged butterflies, a familiar form and yet also mysteriously, magically different from the butterflies of earth, life as I currently experience it. Those butterflies were amazing, alien looking, like no earthly creatures. Seeing them, perched on wooden frames hung high on a dark wall, is not an image I will ever forget. Central to the scene was that circular disc, like a Sun Dial… a Life Dial? Was the principal “butterfly”, our immortal soul, turning the dial to other incarnations/lifetimes represented by the butterflies perched on wooden frames symbolizing the confines of time, space and matter?

Comments and Questions Welcome