So the other day my surrogate who I will refer to as IM shared a dream where she was visited by her Grandmother in a forest where she played as a kid. She mentioned there being a lookout tower used for protecting bears from hunters. Her dream gave me pause. Particularly the image of the forest. I thought back to my associations with forests and dreams. The one dream that came to mind was Sleepy Hollow. I had not read it in a long time but the way she described it took me to Sleepy Hollow. I didn’t get around to reading the Sleepy Hollow dream until the next day. As I prepared to message her I felt a bit of sadness. My impressions of the forest reminded me of the many dreams I’ve had where my faerie friends have come to visit me and taken me on adventures. My sadness was that I haven’t seen them in a long time. I wondered if they had forgotten me or if they would ever return.
As I sat there contemplating what to say in my text to IM because I wanted to say something about the forest but didn’t want to convey any sadness. I held the phone motionless my fingers unable to type when accidentally my fingers sent out an empty thought balloon. I quickly crafted a message and excused my accidental balloon. I then began telling her about the faeries and how they used to visit me. I also described myself as a nature spirit. I’d say I’m more of a green man and in the gay community I’m very much a bear. She then messaged back telling me she was making balloons for an annual event. Thousands of balloons she was in the process of making. How serendipitous I was in awe. Little did I know there was more. She proceeded to tell me that she and her family were working on creating fairy houses to place in an enchanted forest. Now what are the odds of that happening at precisely the right time.
Spirit has a way of moving in the ordinary day to day world that if you aren’t paying attention you can easily miss it. But to those who pay close attention the evidence is there. Fairy dust and miracles happen every day. Needless to say I am over joyed to know the faeries are back.
Now here may be a good place to tell the story of my friend Daniel aka Quetta who is in the tiny picture frame (click on image to enlarge). Now that I’m doing the surrogacy to have a baby a lot of things have begun to make sense to me. Also the process of deciding I wanted to become a dad and have a child has been one I never dreamed possible and one I had resisted for a long time. I believe the universe has pushed me into this decision not so much because it wants me to do this but because doing so is part of my life’s mission. It may very well be an agreement I had with myself before entering the world. I have always sought guidance from my dreams and sometime that guidance takes you in directions you might not believe are for you. Overcoming self esteem issues and other limiting self beliefs and being tied to my fears can keep me from full fulfilling my purpose and potential. Dreams have pushed me outside my comfort zone. My dreams have been calling me to have a child. I didn’t understand this initially because they are not that obvious but they are persistent. I feel OB1 (Oliver) has shown up in my dreams time and time again but it took me a long time to accept what I am being called to do which is to live out my life to the fullest. I believe there are agreements in place when you are born intentions you set when you come into this world to be learned and experienced.
This next dream is from my book which I published in 2007 and I believe is the first time where my inner child my son OB1 (Oliver) came to revealed himself and my friend Quetta appeared so powerfully to foretell what would come to pass.
I Hold Your Hand in the Name of Love
I have had many incredible dreams but this one was among my most profound experiences. This had to be what is referred to as astral projection.
In this dream, I find myself wandering around the astral plane communing with other spirits. I recognize I am astral projecting when someone asks me in the dream what time I am going to work. Here the dream is asking me the question I normally ask myself to test and trigger a lucid dream state. I look at my wrist and notice I do not have my watch on. I never take my watch off for any reason, not even to shower. Yet the missing watch is not what catches my attention. It is seeing my hand made not of flesh and blood, but instead, etheric, luminescent and transparent. I am true blue in spirit. Yet without a watch, I somehow know the time is 5 am.
Since it is early and I am not feeling tired, I hang around with friends and show them my new-found abilities of flight. We are all hanging out in one of the rooms of my house. The room has very high ceilings and I can ascend within the room with merely a thought and look down over my friends below me. I can see them turning their heads and following me with their eyes as I fly around the room. The white robe I wear elongates as I ascend and become one with the walls of the room.
I am having so much fun showing my friends, I feel like a child with a new toy at Christmas time. I feel as if I have just graduated to a new level of awareness. As one of my graduation presents, I am given an extremely large red and blue kite. This kite is so large that I cannot keep it in my house. My friends then suggest we take the kite to the building where I work. I am in awe of this kite, which has wings like a bird. The experience is exhilarating. Upon entering the building where I work, I see that there is a large atrium which is three stories tall. This atrium is a perfect place to hang my kite. My friends tell me I can put my kite anywhere I want including suspending it from the atrium ceiling.
“Why would they allow me to hang my kite in this building?” I ask.
“Because it is your building,” they tell me.
“My building? What do you mean, my building?” I reply.
“It is your building and it has your name on it. This building was named after you in recognition of all that you have done,” they say.
I cannot believe I have a building named after me. I then give instructions for them to hang the kite in the atrium of the building, suspended from the ceiling.
After all this time has passed, someone asks me, “Aren’t you going to be late for work?” Again, I look at my wrist. This time my awareness has grown and I realize I not only have an etheric hand, I also have an illuminated body. Still without a watch, I somehow know the time has not changed. It is still 5 am.
“What’s up with the time here? How is it I know the time and why is it that the time has not changed? It’s impossible for me to be late for work,” I gather.
I then go back home and find that my best friend Quetta is sitting on my couch waiting for me to arrive. I have not seen Quetta in ages. I get all caught up in the moment, talking to him as though no time had passed since we last talked. I sit on the couch across from him intent on listening to him talk to me. I then have a flashback to 10 years prior to the day of his funeral when Quetta was laid to rest. He passed away from AIDS. I then realize this is a spirit Quetta and not a physical Quetta.
Fully lucid, knowing this dream moment would slip past me as soon as the dream was over, I knew I had to hold on to this precious moment in time.
Interrupting him, I blurt out, “I LOVE YOU QUETTA! I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.”
I cannot stop looking at him and telling him how much I love and miss him.
“I LOVE YOU!!”
He smiles at me with a knowing look on his face. He understands that I know how special this moment in time is. I keep repeating the words like a broken record unable to take my eyes off him until slowly his image begins to fade.
As his image faded, I woke up in real life, thinking, “I made it, I finally made it to the other side and my best friend in the whole wide world. Daniel, whom I had nicknamed Quetta, was there. I then understood it was not Quetta that had faded away, it was me who faded and returned to my waking life as I awoke from the dream.
“But wait, what’s this?” Fully awake, I realized I was still holding on to something. I had held on so tight in the dream, I could still feel under my covers something clutched in my hand. I had a grip on something. I thought this might be Quetta whom I was holding on to. I continued to hold on tight, not knowing what to do. I could unmistakably feel the pressure of someone’s hand locked in mine. I was holding on to someone’s hand, but who’s? For the life of me, I was not going to let go. With quick thinking and a quick move, I grabbed the person’s forearm with my other hand, determined to hold on. Under my sheets, I could now feel his forearm in my left hand. Whose arm was this?
The sun was just beginning to come up so I could clearly see around my room. There was no one in front of me. I could see no one in my room, not even in spirit form, which I often do see. I continued holding on tight to this person’s hand and forearm. Quick thinking told me to feel my way around. I began to run my left hand along his arm. This person’s arm was hairless and completely smooth. My left hand reached the outside of his hand. I had both my hands wrapped around his right hand. I could feel his hand and his fingers. Something was different about this hand. It was unlike any human hand. I could feel it as real as anything in real life and there was no mistaking I was fully awake.
Feeling my way around, I noticed the hand was larger in size than any human hand. My hand felt like the small hand of an infant held tightly by his father’s hand.
OH MY GOD, I knew whose hand this was. I was holding the hand of GOD! This was the hand of GOD! Yet God remained invisible before my eyes. My eyes were literally bulging out of their sockets and my heart was racing.
I carefully looked around the room when suddenly, from around an invisible presence before me, poked Quetta’s head in spirit. There was someone standing between me and Quetta. Someone invisible whose hand I was holding on to for dear life. Peaking around him, Quetta motioned to me like kids do to pull the invisible presence toward me. I knew this was my chance to see GOD with my own eyes. This was my chance to see the face of my Lord and I was determined to do just that. My right hand quickly reached out and grabbed his triceps and I pulled him forward with all my strength.
From behind a veil in front of me emerged the face of a five year old boy with curly glistening blond hair, just like the curls I had when I was five years old. As always, God was full of surprises. Not what I had expected, I decided then to pull the child in closer for a better look. “Who is this child that looks like me?” I wondered.
Looking into his eyes I realized this child was me. This child was none other than me at age five. I am God and God is me, we are one. My heart literally skipped a beat. In shock, I let go of my grip and fell back into my pillow.
I sat up in bed with my eyes wide open, thinking about what had just happened. I then heard the front door open and the house alarm go off. My roommate had just walked in from a late night out. I turned to look at the clock on my nightstand and it was exactly 5 am.
It was one of the most incredible dream experiences I have ever had. It was such an honor and a privilege to see my beloved best friend Daniel, whom I had affectionately named Quetta when growing up. We were and still are inseparable. Our spirits do in fact transcend physical death. True Love is what binds us together.
God is within me. If only for the purpose of reconnecting with our inner child, dreams are worth cultivating. To do so, automatically brings with them all of the benefits that lie just below the surface of the dream world.
END OF DREAM —–
Dreams are universal, multidimensional and they ring true on many levels with many levels of interpretation. I believe the boy in the dream was both me and OB1. I remember at Daniels funeral I gave part of the eulogy. I wrote a poem which I have somewhere and I will go looking for it soon but in it I said I wished I’d be born to him in another place and time. I believe in reincarnation. There is a part of me that wonders who OB1 will be. Are we really all the same person living out distinct lives believing we are different and returning to a collective spirit when we die. So many unanswered questions to ponder. I do believe we are all one in spirit. We are connected, we are both individualistic and a collective. Christ said, “I and my father are one.” So I must believe that I too and my father are one so wouldn’t that make us all one?