THE DREAM:
At 8 years of age my dreams had finally evolved beyond the continuous nightmare phase that had greatly troubled me and the family. One night I had a most amazing and realistic dream. The dream unfolded as a first person experience, placing me squarely in the cross hairs of an unknown spiritual marksman from deep within my subconscious mind..
This was during a period of time when I slept very little, as I usually got to sleep no earlier than midnight, no matter how early I went to bed. I would lay in bed and review the day every night before sleep, to see where I could have done things better, or said something a little differently.
But, being so immature, and not too worldly in my knowledge, I did not have the necessary background to know what to think about this transcendent dream.
I discussed the dream with my older sister Pam, who, at age 10 already claimed knowledge of reincarnation, and other psychic experience.
She had some partial answers to its mysteries, based on her understanding of reincarnation, but so many mysteries remained to be explained.
I waited and watched for further answers, and went on with the all of the important business of being a carefree boy, though at times, I fleetingly experienced “self-awareness”.
To this day, I remain in wonder about THE DREAM.
Here is THE DREAM:
The priest, having received his directive from “on high”, then returned to his village along the lake in the high mountain region. He gathered all of the villagers together, and informed them that they were to take every golden figurine, every sacred symbol that they owned, and they were to throw them all into the lake, and never to think about them again. Then, he told each villager that they must each go into their own home, and face the “evil one” without any protection or care from any of their gods or their symbols of the sacred.
The priest then returned to his own home, having tossed all of his own idols and treasures into the deep blue lake. He stripped himself bare of all clothing, and then began to summon the forces of the dark. He became surrounded by a fog, and as he lifted his hands, sparks started flying out of his fingertips at the unknown force of darkness that lay just beyond his visual field, still hidden beyond the boundaries of the fog. The priest refocused his energy into his arms, and hands, and the sparks grew into a steady energy field, extending from his body, his heart, and his spirit, towards his unknown adversary. He was determined to overcome this force, this dark energy, and he redoubled his efforts. The priest’s heart began to race out of control, he began to sweat profusely, and a growing sense of fear and dread began to take hold of his entire being, as he finally understood that his energy could not last forever. Yes, for him to continue this battle, he must sacrifice all of his life force. Yet, he felt that he had no choice but to keep engaging the enemy, to finally see the face of the force that had terrorized his village since time began. He desperately strained and stretched to see the object of his fear and disdain, even as the ebbing energy field flowing from his fingertips continued to cut through the fog. Suddenly, a face began materializing before his faltering gaze. As he collapsed to the floor, almost drained of all life, he could no longer fight an undeniable truth– the face of the evil one might be his own!
Three years later, while taking World Geography as a class in the 7th grade, I was introduced to the Incan civilization, and Lake Titicaca, which is on the border between Peru and Bolivia. This was, and still is, a very sacred lake, and, according to the lore of the Incan people, it was where the origins of the human race began. I had an eerie sense of familiarity with the lake, and with the people of the area. I proceeded to consume every book on the Incan civilization that I could find. I became hooked on the idea of traveling to Peru someday, to seek out some answers, and to experience its culture, perhaps for a second time? I eventually traveled to Peru in 2014, and I felt like I had arrived at yet another home. We hiked over 25 miles along the Incan Trail, at elevations exceeding 13,800 feet in some locations. I ran several miles at over 12,000 feet, and felt absolutely no fatigue. I had conversations with local guides about their spirituality, and had many remarkable experiences with the people and their customs..
