A dream, the filter between truths and lies

When my daughter asked me this morning what was wrong, I had to think.  First of all, what made her think anything was wrong?  I had not said anything nor had I given indication anything was amiss. Until I realized, I was, in fact, being rather calm and submissive.  If you know me, those two words do not describe me… at all!

What had happened to me today to put me in this frame?  Immediately, two things popped into my head.  One was a royal written beating I received from the ignorance that is social media.  Honestly, if you think about it, greed and ignorance is the new world war.  My heavens we are pathetic.  I quickly concluded that that was not it.  Getting blasted on social media had happened to me too many times to count.  I can see past those who cannot see past their own noses with ease.

The second was very early this morning, caught between dream state and that moment right before you wake.  My mind had created such a vivid imagery, I refused to fully awaken until it had accomplished its message and then when I did, I had to share it.

The images that had started in my unconscious mind while I slept kicked my conscious imagination into full gear.  When I fully woke I had to go about my morning routine in silence in order to keep the images as vivid as I could.   I suppose that was why I was not Mz. Chatty Nancy on the drive to school this am.  {shrug}

I felt, however, that simply posting my unconscious/conscious dream on Facebook was not enough; I needed to encase it, immobilize it.

Social media is like a runaway movie reel is it not?  Its endless pics and words all streaming along, pictures and words flashing by so quickly you barely have time to register before they pool on the floor in a heaping mass of lost information.

I wondered, where I would write about this dream that would make the same impact on others as it had to my whole being this morning.  Should I add it to my meager excuse of a personal diary or my forever, never finished book?  Perhaps I could compose it on my very lonely blog?  I chose all of the above.

I can honestly say I could not capture the imagery as clearly as I wanted.  There are simply no words in the English language that even come close.


It began as dreams do, in the state between conscious and the unconscious, all bunched up and messy.  Like trying to dress a wriggly child, no sense fighting it, just go with the rhythm and it eventually sorts itself out, slightly skewed but decent enough.  The dream had arranged itself nicely and once there I was captivated.

“We are weakening.”  It said.

In my mind’s eye I saw all of them, from every walk of life, silhouettes in blue hues wandering aimlessly on overgrown and unpaved paths.  Labels no longer mattered here in this state; there was no colour or creed, it was not their bodies or faces that I recognized, it was their minds and hearts that had entranced me.

These minds, almost all of them, were mumbled and jumbled, filled to the brim with rights to wrongs and bads to goods.  Words and phrases, thoughts and visions all sloshed and swooshed about, vying for the filter between truths and lies.

Every human silhouette in my dream had a little spot just above their third eye.  Many sizes, some bright, some dull, some coloured, some not.  These spots glowed and pulsated, moved about, danced, shimmied and shined all competing for attention and yet, were being indeterminably ignored.

I watched a succession of ignorant oblivion lay itself out before me as adults bore centuries of children born feeble and sickly.  These humans had stopped listening to their inner selves, even when the glowing light hit them, SMACK, in the face. They simply looked about with blinded eyes, swatting the pulsing notions away like pesky little flies.  These feeble children grew up and had children of their own, a whole new generation, weaker than the last, allergic and ill-immune.

In my dream I saw millions upon millions of generational weak societies lining up like cattle for inoculations with the illusion that it would absolve their illnesses and dis-ease.  Fear floated around their glowing dots like a heavy mist, diming them, extinguishing them like breath to flame.

The vaccinated generations in turn created another cycle of weakened adults and on it went, line after line of pulsating, desperate ‘selves’ being ignored.

With that heaviness, more than I could bear, the dream moved on.

It then began to show me animals, picking up one sweet baby species after another. One by one they named them as if I needed reminding.  I knew in that moment, in my heart, each species it revealed to me would not; could not, live any longer on this planet.

“No… That’s not it.” It said, holding a cuddly baby black bear for my view.

In fact, truth is, we humans are breeding and cultivating weakness.  We have lost the ability to protect ourselves and that circle of defence involves all animals on this planet.

“As humans weaken so do the animals.”  It agreed, pleased at how quickly I had caught on.

My heart ached when a lion cub was held, wriggling in indistinguishable hands. When I asked what I can do to keep this from happening, I received a curious tilted head, wide-eyed look from the cub as if I had not been listening.

“It has happened. When you gave up on self, you gave up on earth.” It said.


In my dream between the narration and the visual I was given snippets of people’s lives.  Ones that I knew, family and friends even acquaintances.   I will list some of the ones I remember here.

One soul I recognized, who had had a second child recently.   A boy; robust, healthy, his own very large dot pulsating within his mind, eager to get about as he rolled his small body from his back to his front, finding joy in that freedom.  More concerned about societal views of the perfect family home, the parent soul feared its own instincts.  Instead it chose to learn parenting from books and friends on-line who did not know this soul or the soul of the child.  This individual took to their advice like a greedy, hungry animal rather than following its own.  I watched as it swaddled the child in the crib to keep him from rolling about as its dot zipped around, trying to tell her that he was born strong, he did not need this…

Without knowledge of it, the soul was weakening another by stifling its first-born instinct, the gift of strength.

Another and this one is very close to me.  I viewed this soul sitting in a coffee shop, educating its mind with paper backs and journals.  The beautiful white dot buzzed and zipped about.  I observed as its glow zoomed over continents, locating and bouncing upon various ancient buildings and stirring about through primeval hallways and corridors.  It finally rested, hovering on large volumes of the greatest written works ever generated by the most brilliant of minds, minds that earth has yet to have appreciated since.

This dot wanted more from this human.  Brilliance was wasted on trivial lessons.

I recognized another, one with a brilliantly talented eye.  One who could capture moments with such clarity, you would think the images were still alive, even in print.  This one had a heart of gold too.  Never to hesitate to give you all without question and yet, this one was very unhealthy.  Severely overweight and very busy, this human made time for passions and commitments but not for self.   It knew its food choices and amounts were erroneous, it knew that it needed to move about more.  Its dot teased it by causing small twitches and aches in the feet and the joints in order to wake it up.   The brilliant, rosy light hovered near the chest keeping watch over a heart, although made golden, remained taxed and tired.

A life would be cut short and unlocked talents would die with.

This life I knew.  And this life was a lesson for me in the now.   This one’s dot, now faded and tired, showed me generational habits that caused dis-ease in this time.  Hopping from one generation to the next the dot displayed pictures of past standards once deemed necessary in those times, no longer viable in this one.  We live in a world where the old paradigms have become the poisoned and the new has become the corruption.   To live strong, one must learn and educate and do it, discreetly, under the radar.  To be rid of dis-ease one must work hard on self.  Make self a priority.  The dot hovered and bounced wanting the human to listen, listen, listen.  It was bringing signs and thoughts and people into this life, but this person ignored. The cycle of attention and habits so long ingrained caused the illness to spread.  Everything this human grew up with, religion, diet, morals, values all caused a bright mind to become confused and in that misunderstanding, fear entered.  Shhhh the dot said.  Shhhh.  Listen.

A life gone too soon from a cancer meant only to warn. Not to kill.

Many lives past me by, some I recognized, most I did not.  It was a rare sight to see when a glowing dot was found inside the mind’s eye rather than floating above.  Usually in small children, these internal dots emanated, throwing vast streams of light in all directions, in all dimension, engulfing and surrounding all with love, health, strength and a healing light.   The word to describe?  There is none.

I leave you with one more thought.

Listen and watch and see the children.  The children have the knowledge we need to move forward on this planet.  If we weaken or stifle them, we, as humans, along with all creatures will parish, without a doubt.  Listen to the children. They ARE our truth.

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