The Dream is the Beginning

It was a good many years ago that I was introduced to God.

While it may seem a little unusual, I assure you that I have a most unique experience that masqueraded as a dream. I call it that, because it was not when I was asleep, and yet was not a daydream.

I have long been able to consciously enter into most of my dreams, and take them over to the extent of redirecting them.  This was my answer to the rare nightmares that I suffered as a child (I still remember a few of them from times when I was ill).

I was not able to do anything with this dream, even though I was almost awake, and had interest in making changes.

Also, this dream was not my own. It was not a one-time affair, but replayed over and over again during several months, starting out with only the earliest part of the dream adventure, and then picking up the story and carrying it on.  It was not until it was complete that the dream abandoned me.


I am conscious of floating in space. There are stars as far as I can see. It is perfectly quiet.

I realize that this is not fully consistent, as I am laying on my back looking up.  Even though there is nothing supporting me from behind, I realize that there is such a thing as an "up" direction.

I try to turn over to see to the sides and down.  I rotate easily, but find myself floating rather than falling.  Indeed, I am in emptiness, with distant stars in no recognizable pattern.

As I look down, I see a thick black line, like a ribbon drawn utterly tight, running beneath me and stretching off as far as I can see into the infinite.  It is perfect in its straightness.

Without any motivation on my part, I find myself shooting toward this line through space. I pause in my forward motion while still a considerable distance from the object; it is clear that it is very ribbon-like, but with curled edges.  It is visible against the blackness of space only because it is undergirded by what appears to be a cloud.  It is this that gives it definition.

Again, I shoot forward and down until the object fills my downward vision.  Here, I pause again, apparently some few hundred feet above the object.  From this distance is not truly black, but a dark gray color.  I am able to look to the side to see the curled edge, and it appears dark in the distance, with the cloud all around its edges so that they appear to disappear into it.

I find myself looking down into a gray, lifeless and utterly silent valley. It is almost flat except for the curl in the distance, and the line that runs down the middle of its length.  There is a hint of distance gray woods toward the sides, but there is only short grasses near its center.  I realize that I am looking at a valley. The line down its center is a roadway, perhaps 12 feet across, and apparently unpaved.

Again I move down, this time until I am upright and with my feet floating a foot or two above the surface.  I am looking down the length of the valley.

No longer is it dark gray, but light gray.  It is as if the valley is colorless but quite visible in dim light.  The roadway appears to be dirt, but quite smooth and free of obstructions. It is slightly crowned, as good roads are designed to shed water.  The silence is complete.

I look off to the left.  The curled edge of the valley now appears to be mountains shrouded in clouds.  There appears to be a woods between the grassy center of the valley and those mountains.  There is an expectancy; something is about to happen.



The beginning is life, it is people.  They come bursting from behind me, and they pass through me scattering in all directions.

They are bright with color, and as they pass they seem to light the valley.  I see that the grass is green by the light of them.

I want to turn around, I want to see where the people are coming from. I try to turn, and I cannot.  I am locked into watching as they pour out from behind me and go dashing into the field beside the roadway, and rush toward the woods and the valley walls.

This only happens for a few seconds before I find myself going forward and overtaking some of the people.  I am able to turn toward them, and their faces are bright with whatever it is that drives them onward.  They are very much alive, but there is a sense of unintelligence about them.  They seem almost manic in their eagerness to go forward toward the walls.

Shooting forward again, I come to where the meadow gives way to brush, and it is not a pleasant sight.  There are still people before me, but they are no longer rushing madly in their eagerness.  The brush is covered with thorns.  The people are picking their way through in groups.  They call encouragement to one another, and they work their way carefully forward.  I realize that the light is much dimmer here than it was in the center of the valley, and the people seem to have difficulty seeing where they are going.

Yet they are driven on.  They just go with much more care.

Again I shoot forward, and the brush gives way to forest. It is getting quite dark.  The people are there, and most of the color has gone out of them.  I realize that they are effectively blind, and are feeling their way onward.  They are now more determined than eager.  The trees themselves have thorns, but the people have obviously learned caution.  They go forward in groups, being careful to feel their way around the occasional branch that bars the path.  The way through the trees is otherwise fairly open.

I shoot forward once more, and I find myself as the foot of the edge of the valley.  It is black like obsidian, and there are sharp rocks and edges everywhere.  The curl is no longer visible, but only what appears to be boulders leading to a glassy wall.

The people, now without light from within, are determinedly trying to climb that wall.  They work their way carefully over the boulders and do their best to find handholds in the obsidian wall.  I realize that they have many wounds from the sharp edges, but that they are continuing.

My heart has to go out to them.  There is no way that they can succeed in what they appear to try.  They are doomed to failure.



I am determined to help them if I am able, but have no opportunity.  I shoot forward once more, this time perhaps a mile or so up the valley, and away from that awful wall. I find myself once more in tall brush.

This time, there are many paths through the brush, and there are a few people walking those paths.  The paths appear to have some sort of dim lighting, and a blue-greenish glow to them that the people are able to see.  These people are not doing themselves harm as those nearer the beginning.  They seem unhurried.

Again, I shoot forward, both down the valley and toward its center.  I rush forward there for several miles, coming up behind a pair that is walking the road.

The road appears even as it had at the first. It is smooth, and without obstruction.

I pull up behind them without anything to attract their attention.  They continue in pleasant concourse, though I do not hear what they are saying to each other. My attention is drawn to their feet, which are shod with sandals.  It is immediately apparent that there is an internal blue-greenish glow to them as they walk along.

Then I am on the move once more.  This time many miles flit by.  I see as the nature of the valley begins to change.  The meadow gives way to brush, and the brush eventually to trees.  I am soon traveling almost as if down a tunnel of overarching woods.

I notice that there is a substantial light somewhere ahead, and that I am rushing toward it.  The light is not all that bright, but I have the impression that it is still a considerable distance forward.

In a flash, I have turned aside from the road, and am in the woods.  After passing a few people widely apart, I come to a stop where I can see a pair like those on the roadway.  They are also in some sort of pleasant conversation, and proceeding toward the light that now appears even through the trees.  I realize that it is about a quarter mile forward, but the light easily penetrates the wood.

The light about the feet of these people is substantial, and they appear to have color, much as those who were at the beginning.  I notice that where they walk, they seem to leave a glow. Indeed, most of the paths through this wood have some of that glow upon them, as if many had passed through.



I shoot forward once more until I can clearly see a widening of the roadway into a platform perhaps 20 feet across.  The clearing has no trees or brush, and the woods encircle it.  To my right, just out clear vision due to the trees, is the roadway on which I came into the woods. On the far side of the clearing, perhaps 200 feet away, I see the road going on. On the far side of the center, it again returns to its previous size and appearance; and once again goes on its arrow-straight way down the center of the valley.

The light emanates from a luminous figure in the center of the way.  The figure is transparent, and I can see the woods on the far side of the clearing right through it.  The figure is that of a robed and bearded man, and is utterly still and as quiet and unmoving as a statue.  The figure is about the size of a man.

The light itself is unique, as it is bright enough so that I saw it a long way down the valley, and yet it is not bright enough to be uncomfortable when seen from my vantage about 150 feet away.  The light also casts no shadows. It penetrates everything.

I observe the figure for perhaps close to a minute.  There is no sign of change or movement.  There is only the steady glowing light that it emanates from it, and its crystal-like appearance.

There are no people in the clearing.  I see no people on that path or in the woods at the far side of the clearing.



In a flash, I am back on the road, returning down the way that I came.  The miles race by until I am once more with the pair that walk this road. I slip by them, turn and find myself once more following them as they walk.

My attention is again drawn to their feet, and the glow that surrounds them.  I am caused to look down to my own, and they are also shod with sandals, and the same glow is about them as I hover several inches above the road.

Again I turn and shoot back down the valley, turning aside only to where the people were walking through the brush.  I come almost immediately upon those I observed before, and they are proceeding as they were when I first saw them.

I move somewhat beyond them, and find myself walking in the opposite direction along these same paths, but by myself.  I look down, and the blue-greenish glow that is in my feet is leaving the path lighted behind me.  I realize that this is how the paths have been lighted for use by those who now walk them.

With that, I am back at the wall, where the people struggle in their blindness and the darkness, trying to do what cannot be done.  Even if they were to climb that wall, there is nowhere that they could go, only the emptiness of space.


This is where I woke up to dream no more.  The dream was done, and it has not come to me again.

I think I know what the dream means to me, but I doubt that it was for me alone. If it has a separate meaning or purpose for you, please drop me a line.