Introduction: By day, that is, when awake, I’m a pretty normal 70-year old male. Writer, beautiful wife, and semi-retired on 29-acres of state park-like land among the towering pines of East Texas. By night, however…well, let’s just say things change. I’m a oneironaut; one who has lucid dreams, many of which are remembered upon return to “this side” of the waking/sleeping divide. Occasionally, I will share one when the content seems useful, entertaining, or both.
There had been a tragic fire. A small barn, perhaps 20-by-20 feet had burned to the ground. In it had been a horse. Due to the nature of physics in The Realms, there was nothing of the horse left, but his “essence” or spirit. Because of my abilities, I had the duty of removing this “essence” for burial.
The barn was set on a low, rolling hilltop. Green as an emerald and it felt like springtime. As I entered the building’s smoldering ashes, dragging a red hand truck behind me, it didn’t take long to find the “essence.”
In these worlds, an essence – the spirit remains after a death – are more apparent than in the waking world. The horse’s was about the size of a small pillow; the size you’d find on any sofa in the waking world.
Two things were surprising about its essence, however. First, it was clear. Almost totally transparent. To such a degree that if you weren’t looking directly at it, moving your head just-so, you’d miss it. Secondly, it was very heavy. Transferring it onto the hand truck, it occurred to me it must weigh 40-pounds – much heavier than expected.
There was a “knowing” that came with all this. As I’d written in my book Psychocartography, in the waking-state, we don’t find, let alone see, such spiritual essence. It’s there, but due to waking world physics, it’s different here.
In The Realms, though, apparent weights vary. Depends which world you’re visiting.
Another knowing from my sad disposal duty was realizing this matter of “spiritual mass” (as in physics, not Catholicism) was the reason witches formed into covens. If a spirit is strong (as this horse was) it had greater spiritual mass. In order to overcome this, and work evil, it takes multiple evil-workers to overwhelm a positive essence’s mass..
Ignorance of these spiritual mechanics in the waking-world is widespread. Yet, on inspection, people “attend church” and participate in “civic groups and clubs” at an almost unconscious level. Grouping instinctively to counteract a pernicious evil set on global (waking world) domination.
What’s a shame is that the waking world is not aware of such spiritual warfare. Indeed, a read of headlines supports the notion that evil has been slowly breaking-down any bright spots of spiritual light-working. They focus on specific groups (*in sequence) to undermine and subvert the “good” groups, along with their teaching and ideals. They don’t want “good” in the waking-state world. Distraction and division are their tools.
My visits are usually not so morbid. The feeling quickly passed, knowing that my spiritual “work” was done.
As soon as complete, I had became aware of a female spiritual presence – it was my wife Elaine. We’ve been working on a technique I call “dreaming over.” (It was the basis for my first novel of the same title.)
She looked different on this visit; another “trick of The Realms.” We often encounter kindred-spirits from our waking-states. But, they don’t appear the same in dreams. Yet, once you touch their essence, you can identify them.
Elaine (in this lucid dream) was asking me to explain how I could see the essence of the horse. She’d been standing nearby and hadn’t seen it. From her perspective, there may have been something heavy on the hand truck, but she had a hard time seeing it. Only a fleeting sense now and then.
I offered her instruction on how to find essences.
You begin with a spirit dowsing-stick. We looked around for what seemed like five-minutes, until I found a suitable candidate.
The spirit dowsing-stick should be a bit weather-worn, but not so much that any rot has set in. The bark should be gone. And if must be absolutely dry because when dowsing for essences, even the tiniest hint of moisture will “short-out” the dowse.
I did my first dowsing (in the waking-world) when young. My late uncle Stanley had given me a pair of thin 3-foot long brass curtain rods and instructed me in the art. “Walk across the yard,” he instructed. “You’ll know when you connect...” he chuckled.
As I did, there was a point where the rods seemed to come alive and “take on a life of their own.” They crossed – it was strong too – and I was flabbergasted. It wasn’t me, it was them. It was like they had plugged in to an energy source; independent of me, but somehow I was part of…well, what?..
In The Realms, it’s the same effect; similar in that one-with-the-energy way.
Holding the spirit dowsing-stick. One cubit, i.e. from the elbow to longest finger in length, one can feel something like “small winds” – essences – move the spirit-stick this way or that.
Essence can be gently prodded and they will delicately reveal themselves as small local perturbations in space-time. Which what we “essences” are. Space-time wrinkles.
Held at the middle, the spirit-stick can guide you to your next destined adventure. Holding it tightly in the left hand, you’ll feel a strong wind when the time of action is at hand.
The knowing is that you walk directly into that wind blowing the spirit-stick. The greater the resistance the more “on course” you are. It was fun showing how this worked.
In a twinkling, we found ourselves… on a houseboat???
Aboard the Houseboat
Word of our arrival at the houseboat preceded us; because there were a dozen, or so, locals including a couple of politicians from Arrival City, who’d come to by to visit and introduce themselves.
The condition of the boat was poor. It was straight enough, and certainly not rickety. Deck was sound. But the inside was a mess. The furniture was dusty, the cabinets had dirt, bits of food, and even what looked like a cigarette butt or two. Curiously, though, there was no smell. Just the fresh-air scent of being back on the water.
Elaine sizing-up the shabby dining area and immediately got busy “projecting” (thought-sharing) how she would add some of our own furniture and decorations. She had a great design in mind; deep reds and browns with an almost regal feel to it.
Suddenly, I snapped back to the (dream) reality, realizing the guests were leaving. Seems most were disappointed by the appearance of the houseboat. We assured them we would have it up to snuff in short-order. They’d be back.
The Curious Cruise
Events took a turn now. We were moored as the outer of two houseboats along a shoreline next to a freeway. The freeway headed west, up a hill and over a bridge through a cut in a low-lying hill. The neighbor’s boat was between us and the shoreline. We had mooring pilings on the open side so our spot was well-secured.
We had boarded via a “gang plank” from shore to the neighboring houseboat, and then a second over to our houseboat. With the neighbors gone, we seemed stranded. Then instantly a small dinghy materialized. We went ashore to deal with an electrical issue.
Seems our houseboat had an electrical source that needed servicing. Someone (not us) had given permission for the unit to be taken to a shop. This shop owners were crooks. They had plans for our unit. Electrical sources are highly valued in this world. The shop planned to repaint our unit and sell it to the government for a big profit. The planned to give us a third-rate replacement..
I put a stop to that demanding they return our unit or I would call the authorities. When they balked, I pointed out that neither Elaine nor I had authorized the equipment’s removal. We;d see them in jail in short-order.
Their next ploy was to claim the unit was too heavy to move. These sources are about 3-feet by 3 and 2 feet high and weigh about 250 pounds. “No problem, I will move it myself…” Which I did.
A knowing about “old man strength” came with this. As we get older and our spirits more in charge of our bodies, we get tougher as we age. There are stories of it in waking-world, like this one.
Elaine had put the houseboat’s bow over to the shoreline enabling me to reload the electrical source. That done, we were able to get underway. Taking the houseboat out would be fun.
Our neighbors had departed to the east and we headed west.
If you’ve been over the Evergreen Point Bridge in Seattle, the scene was similar to the stretch from west of the Arboretum (westbound) over Portage Bay and up into the hill crossing under Eastlake. Day residue? From 30-years ago? An oddly stylized version, it wasn’t the same – quite different.
Passing under the bridge and along the shoreline, we saw the most curious thing ever – and remember, we’ve spent a lot of time on the water.
There was a small boat coming by us, passing starboard, that looked (at first) like a huge nuclear submarine’s sail. What the hell? This was at least 35-feet tall.
But, as it passed, it was revealed to be someone’s idea of a joke! The whole 35-foot towering structure of the sub’s sail had been built on a 26-foot long, very wide beam and extremely low hull. Real low, like 8-inches of free-board, or less.
At first glance, though, it really looked like a real nuclear sub. But when it passed, the illusion broke down…
Watching it go by, I was taken by the thought “I wonder if the US Navy has such craft? It would be cheap and effective as a ruse…”
One could make the “fake sub” out of the same “blow-up fun-house material” that you see for kids to play in. Except it was super-thin fiberglass-like material. Looked real as all get-out. From the front, anyway.
Then another knowing showed up: There wasn’t just one such craft, but actually two. Only one was present.
At this, I made a note to myself to jump back to the waking-state side and write down these adventures.. None of us get off this world alive, but learning to “jump worlds” via dreams seems a useful strategy to hold onto..
The thing about being a oneironaut is this kind of adventuring happens almost every night, if you work at it. On waking, you might remember only three or four dreams with this level of detail each week. It’s more than enough. Like going to your own Indiana Jones adventure when your eyes close.
Somewhere in the process you realize that when you die, you might be able to stay in one of these Realm adventure worlds. If you’re having grand ones, how cool would that be?
Give yourself time when you wake in the morning and try to recall your dreams. Before sleep, work to make sure you don’t live an “angry life” in the waking-state (because that will totally pollute your adventures in The Realms). Centered here, centered there. Angry here and the anger will turn on you in your dreams. There’s a balancing act between sleep and waking worlds.
In your dreams, give yourself permission to be a co-creator with the All Powerful and yes, give yourself permission to journal it and sketch it.
A fine bit of woo-woo everyone can work at. Part spiritual instruction center and, who knows,, perhaps a bit of remote viewing…, Since last Sunday morning, I’ve been scanning headlines for word of two submarines.
You never know.…
Write when you get rich…