Dreams are carried to us on the rivers of our lives... We set off in our boats of slumber, and soon find ourselves gently floating through the archway of consciousness, and into another world. In this other world all things are possible, all beings encountered, all experiences to be had.
The following dream came to me last September... I often write my dreams down if they are particularly lucid, and this one has special relevance.
There was a man... he had the energy of John Lennon. He was beautiful, kind and funny, and he was dressed in clothes of many colours. He and I were in a boat. There was a large group of people in the water, floating in a circle. They were singing and holding up Peace signs. There were lots of bright colours and flags and bunting - and they were all having a really good time. They began to joyfully sing 'Yellow Submarine', and the circle gradually parted to allow us, and our boat, to sail into the centre. The man and I fell into the water - it was more a merging than a falling - it was perfection. There were little pieces of paper with symbols on floating on the surface of the water. I collected them up and said to the man, "So I remember..." My friend Bridget appeared - her eyes intensely blue. I told her I loved her so much... and we hugged and it was perfect. Her clothes changed, and she told me she had made them herself. Her clothes changed again to white, with lots of feathers and sparkles. I said "What fun!"
My friend Bridget had died the month before.
The following dream came to me last September... I often write my dreams down if they are particularly lucid, and this one has special relevance.
There was a man... he had the energy of John Lennon. He was beautiful, kind and funny, and he was dressed in clothes of many colours. He and I were in a boat. There was a large group of people in the water, floating in a circle. They were singing and holding up Peace signs. There were lots of bright colours and flags and bunting - and they were all having a really good time. They began to joyfully sing 'Yellow Submarine', and the circle gradually parted to allow us, and our boat, to sail into the centre. The man and I fell into the water - it was more a merging than a falling - it was perfection. There were little pieces of paper with symbols on floating on the surface of the water. I collected them up and said to the man, "So I remember..." My friend Bridget appeared - her eyes intensely blue. I told her I loved her so much... and we hugged and it was perfect. Her clothes changed, and she told me she had made them herself. Her clothes changed again to white, with lots of feathers and sparkles. I said "What fun!"
My friend Bridget had died the month before.
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