I have denied for many years that our dreams can show us the path we are supposed to take in this life to lead us to our destiny. I guess it was because, until about a year ago, I did not believe that our lives were pre-determined. No that is not to say we have no choice we still have our free will, we can still choose paths on our own, going against our intuitions, but all this inevitably does is delay us from reaching our destination.
A couple times over the years I have been curious about dreams and dream interpretation. I have glanced through a few books on it and while the dictionary interpretations sometimes match up with events in my life most of them seemed illusive.
The reason I bring up this subject this year is because I recently read in a book how our dreams can show us what our life vision was meant to be. I do not think they are clear enough to say, “hey go this way” or “hey do not do that or else” but in their own way they give us glimpses of our destiny. I believe now that the interpretations of dreams, while concerning the dream you just had, deal with the entire timeline of your lives. It is possible that what the dream is trying to tell you right now is the answer to a question which you had many lives ago but has since been buried by fear and uncertainty.
I am reminded of a dream that I had which, only a night or maybe two, out of a year, spanned over the period of about eight years. I dreamt of a large, white siding, two storey mansion, it was built on the side of a small hill with the main road running past it just through a yard of dense foliage. I remember when I first got married that the house was well kept, the siding clean, the trim painted and the lawn somewhat maintained.
Each time I dreamt of the house it seemed to age, the siding wasn’t as crisp, the trim had paint flecking off and the weeds and underbrush grew ever more dominant on the yard. As the verbal battles between my, now ex, and I ensued I recall having this dream again over the years. Half way through our marriage I remember how vandalism started to eat away at the structure and it was evident, over time, that the mansion became uninhabited and abandoned and was slowly being consumed by the elements.
In the last year of our marriage I remember having the dream one last time, the house had literally crumbled down into piles of debris of wood and concrete and broken glass. It was as though the house, over the course of our marriage, had felt every conflict, every argument and eventually reflected a state of ruin that was the physical embodiment of our marriage.
I have only had a couple “series dreams” that I can remember in this life and I believe that they all connected somehow to a question or questions that needed answers. If that question occurred in this life, or ten lifetimes ago, remains to be understood.
Fears rooted in past lives
I have three dominant fears in my current life. A fear of open water, fear of being buried alive, and of being shot. The latter, of being shot, is not so much a fear as a familiarity to me which I will explain to you shortly.
First a fear of open water. I have never been a fan of open water. I know, that is strange since I find that living in Kincardine, next to Lake Huron, feels like ‘home’ to me. I believe that feeling stems from the energy in the area and its effects which I will write about another day.
My fear of open water is notable only when I am out on it in a boat or something smaller than a fishing trolley. I have been on a passenger ferry a few times and not been bothered at all standing on the deck in the wind staring down at the icy cold water, put me in a row boat or a canoe and it is a different story. Now, do not get me wrong, I can travel in any watercraft but there is always the fear that it might tip over and deposit me into the water where I will be drowned. I do not think the fear is my own. I believe that I picked up on the fate of a drowned sailor and the residual sensations are still with me even fifteen years later. I think this fear prevents me from going into any water that is not controlled by the landscape and I can not see the bottom of from shore.
The fear of being buried alive I believe comes from one of my past lives. I do not know all the details but I get the sensation that I was locked in a space so confining that it felt like being buried alive. I was trapped in that space and I do not know, yet, to this day if I ever escaped or I died there. This fear rarely comes to the surface. I know that I do not like being confined or restrained in any way. When I was a teenager, for fun, I was rolled up in a carpet. I know, the things teenagers do for fun eh. I remember that I experienced what could be described as a mild anxiety attack until my peers helped me to get out of the carpet.
I have been able to overcome most of this fear during the past twenty years by not only not placing myself in that situation but training my mind to understand that most restraints are temporary and, at least, mentally can be removed if not physically. The only time this fear prevented me from doing something in real life was during a class trip back in the 90s. We visited the public works facility, I am not even sure why, and part of the tour was the option to go down a ladder into a shaft that went about fifty feet underground. I opted to remain on the surface, as did others, because of this underlying and unfounded fear of being trapped there.
The last is a sensation or belief that I was shot in a past life and died because of that injury. I recalled the past life vision, back in the mid 00s, after drinking too much one night and finding myself unwillingly susceptible to the memories.
Recalling a past life memory
In my previous, my last lifetime before this one, I believe that I worked as a law enforcement officer in the south-western United States in Arizona or New Mexico. I am not certain what agency I worked for but I think it was something like an FBI or State agency as opposed to a small-town cop. In my vision, I lived in a single floor ranch style home in a nice suburb. From the street, it had a driveway and maybe a garage on the left end of the front. It was not a bright colour, maybe a pale yellow, with white trim. It appeared to be the late fifties perhaps or maybe early sixties based on the vehicles parked on the street. It was a nice sunny day, blue skies, low humidity and bright out but I could see the lawns and houses across the street. As I stepped out of my front door with a briefcase in my hand a man walked up the front lawn toward me. He was dressed in overalls, maybe a blue shirt, clean shaven, groomed hair. I remember I went to ask him what he was doing there when he raised his left arm and hand to reveal a handgun. It was black. I remember something like a flash and everything went dark. I died within minutes. I think the bullet hit my body just below my heart near the lowest rib. I do not know this for certain but it would explain some things today.
I know that when I had the past life recall a friend of mine was with me and I kept asking “why did he shoot me, why did he do it” over and over. I do not think I knew the man and it literally caught me by surprise. I felt a great sadness, not so much for the loss of my life, but for the lack of understanding as to why he had done it. The vision continues to live in the back of my mind with the other ‘past life memories’ that reside there.
The law enforcement officer life is instrumental in my belief of ‘soul circles’. My soul brother once told me he believed that he was a hippie in his past life. I believe that, at that time, our paths crossed because I had either arrested him or threatened to. Another friend of mine, in my soul circle today as a soul friend was either a dancer, stripper or entertainer in her past life and through whatever means our paths crossed as well, though with her I believe our lives have intertwined many times in the past. In each past life intervention, I believe I have tried to help her break away from her fate and in each attempt, I have ultimately failed.
I have two more past life memories that are not clear to me. The first I was a merchant or trader back in the medieval times. I am not sure if it was in fact the medieval times, but it was that crude rural pastoral time, quite possibly in England or Ireland. It is only because of the familiarity I feel with that particular time period. The other memory, far vaguer than the first one, I was working on a farm. I am not certain though if that was indeed a past memory or I picked up on residual energy as I drove past a farm one day.
So, before I ramble on too much longer that is a brief look into dreams with meaningful life connections and past life memories recalled. Questions? Remember to comment on this entry you will need to click on the entry title above (Lives Lost Dreams) and the comment section will appear here at the bottom of the page.
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