It began with a nightmare. Nothing scary happened in the nightmare except that I realized something was completely off and when that happened I heard the whirring sound in my left ear that is typical when I’m having a nightmare. I felt fear well up in my stomach and my skin go alert. I was awake enough to witness the physical process of a nightmare as it was happening. I took inventory of my senses and sensations as they arose. Then I thought I had thoroughly woken up, gone to work, and told my friend Rosie about all this–but something in the workplace setting was completely wrong and I knew I was still dreaming.
This waking up into another dream, realizing I was dreaming, and waking up again, cycled over and over until I wound up semi-awake having remote viewing type visions (short clips of random things that feel more real than dreams) for what felt like 1-5 second durations.
At some point I was, in real life, lying on my stomach catering to my right side watching these things and wondering what they were. Who were these people in these visions? Were they real or imagined?
I reflected on the initial nightmare that set this off. In it, my mother babbled an incoherent sentence to me. I thought that if everything in a dream represents some aspect of you, then the babbling didn’t fit. In fact these fleeting images didn’t fit. What was I telling myself? Nothing! It doesn’t make sense unless it’s not my unconscious communicating with me. I wondered if these images of people were a manifestation of one intelligence–much like I wonder about alleged alien phenomena, although I didn’t hearken back to that lying in bed. What I actually thought was, ‘Is the Prince of Darkness in my dreams?’
And a voice answered. She was an elderly woman who was also me. I mean, the answer was clearly me talking to myself doing an impression of an old lady. Anthony Perkins, much?
She/I responded, “Why? Do you want the Prince of Darkness to enter your dreams?”
No! That’s a dumb question–of course not!
And as I was lying there having this conversation with Old Lady Me, I was touching this fabric hanging over my bed with my right hand. I was rubbing it between thumb and index. It was coarse maybe like a scarf material. Laying there, eyes still closed, semi-awake, I realized I don’t have anything hanging over my bed. This is impossible, yet here I am feeling this thing with my own hand!
I dropped my arm to my side. My hand plopped comfortably to the mattress. And then I realized that that never happened, for my real right hand was tucked under my chin and my fingers were going numb.
Wow! What the hell just happened there?
I opened my eyes and switched positions. Nothing in the room. Just me trying to get comfortable. And then… back into the cave of dreams reflecting more wake-up attempts until I finally pried myself out of bed at around 9:30am.
Now, here I am writing this before going off to work to tell Rosie all about it. At least I think that’s what’s happening.