I have mentioned in previous blogs that we can communicate with ghosts. Some folks see them, and some see and hear them. I like to think that it is simply a matter of what “station” we are on when the frequency is emitted.
One of the most common stations that ghosts like to communicate with us on is that of our dreams. Dreams are intricately connected to the “Dream Weave,” which is that energetic fabric that connects everything throughout the entire Universe. When we are dreaming, we are not simply processing the day’s events or past traumas (although we do that as well), we are also accessing vast amounts of knowledge from the entire Universe. The brain is much more active when we are sleeping than it is while we are awake.
Those who meditate regularly can slow down the physical metabolism, and regulate heart rates and respiration consciously. This practice also helps people to access the Dream Weave on a conscious level. But truly, everyone does it (even if they don’t remember doing so) while they sleep.
I will give you some examples from my personal experiences so that you can see how this may apply to your own experiences.
When I was somewhere around 10 years old, my maternal great aunt passed away in the night. She was my grandmother’s sister, and the two were quite close. I did not have much interaction with Great Aunt May, but I did visit her a few times and vise versa. So, I knew who she was, although I did not consider myself to know her well…not like I knew my grandmother anyway.
As I was sleeping, I was dreaming that I was in Great Aunt May’s house (which I had only been to perhaps once or twice in my life). I was looking around at some of the antique furniture and fascinated by a very old radio that was playing music. I was admiring its design and suddenly the music was interrupted by my Great Aunt’s voice saying, through the radio, “Come to my bedroom, there is something there you need to know about.” So I went into her bedroom, which I had never been in, and there she lay on the bed, stone still. As I approached, there was a scent that was permeating the room. I have since begun to refer to this as the “death scent” because every time someone dies, I smell it. I touched her shoulder and tried to wake her, but she was cold as ice. Then suddenly her eyes opened, and they were completely white. She looked at me and said, “It is my time, little one. I must now cross over to the Light.” With that there was a portal that opened in the air above her bed and her soul raised up from her body and went through the portal. There was a flash of light and the portal closed. I looked down at her body and there was nothing but a skeleton left laying on the bed.
That is when I woke up. But even though I was awake I could still smell the death scent in my room. I noticed a shadow figure in front of my bedroom door. It began to shift and became the image of my Great Aunt May. She looked radiant. She smiled at me and said, “Thank you for helping me to cross over.” Then she was gone.
I fell back to sleep after what seemed like forever. I did not feel frightened. I was just laying there, trying to figure out what had happened. The next morning, I went down to the kitchen for breakfast. My mother was just hanging up the phone when I walked in, her eyes had tears and she said, “My Aunt May passed away last night.” As I poured my cereal into a bowl I answered, “Yes, I know. She came to me last night and showed me.” I thought nothing of that statement. It was the sort of thing we spoke of frequently at the dinner table. My mother, however, was very curious about what my experience had been. So, I described it and she knew that this meant that I was one who had the gift of helping folks to cross over. After that I was given opportunity here and there to do this for dying people. Yes, I was young. But being young I was also a lot closer to the Veil than many of my adult counterparts. Thus began my work with the dying, which I was comfortable with considering that I had already been working with the dead for a few years.
Many years later, when my own mother was on her death bed, I had become extremely ill with whatever the common flu was that was going around at that time. I was sicker than a dog, bed ridden, and could barely sit up without passing out. My mother was in palliative care in another city, so I was not even thinking of going to see her, although I dearly wanted to. I knew I was unable to even get out of bed, let alone drive 3 ½ hours to see her. In the very early hours of the morning my mother came to me in a dream and said, “It is alright, dear. I am gone now. I will see you again later.” I don’t know how long it had been between that dream and when the phone rang, but it was my sister, who was with our mother, who told me that she had passed. Again, I knew in advance…or at least at the very moment of the passing. And, just as she had promised, my mother did see me later. She really enjoyed seeing my children, one of whom was born not long after her passing. So, when I was driving the children around in the car late at night, getting them to fall asleep, my mother would “orb in” and sit in the passenger seat and converse with me. My sister who was with her at the moment of her passing used to say that my second child was a reincarnation of our mother. I still don’t buy that, because I was able to see the previous life she had, and it was not as our mother. But there was a bond between them. Whenever my mother would orb in, my second would go fast asleep and my mother would coo and talk gently to her. As my second child grew, I often saw my mother around her, watching over her.
But it is not just loved ones who have passed that can communicate to us through our dreams. As an example, I was dreaming a while back about being in a house (one I had never been in) and there was this middle aged greying blonde woman who was there. She was a bit heavy set, and she and her daughter had been having a heated argument just before I arrived. The daughter was not in the room, but the mother was furious. She looked at me and said, “I just wish that she would open her eyes and see that he is such bad news for her.” She then proceeded to tell me about her daughter meeting this guy with whom she was completely enamored and that this fellow was not just a drug addict but also a drug dealer. She was so worried about her daughter’s well-being that she “could not rest until she left him.” Her words, not mine. At this moment, I had a vision in the dream with a tomb stone with this woman’s name on it. I knew that I was in a city in the United States, not Canada.
At this moment in the dream, the young woman entered the room and began arguing again with her mother. I saw her, heard her name spoken, and then the mother said, “Look! Even HE knows the truth!” The daughter looked through me, not seeing me there at all. She responded with, “Mom, there is nobody there. You are having one of your brain cancer hallucinations again.” Then, she caught a glimpse of me in the mirror on the wall. She was understandably startled. But at that point I woke up.
A few months later, I was in a store here in Saskatoon. I looked up and saw the same young woman shopping down the aisle from where I was. I walked up to her, and she looked at me and suddenly recognized me from the image in the mirror. “Oh, my God!” she said, “You are the guy from my dream!” I smiled and said, “Have you decided to listen to your mom?” She blinked hard, swallowed, and said, “Actually, yes. I broke up with him shortly after that dream. I was so stupid and did not see him for who he was until he sold drugs that were cut with toxic stuff to my girlfriend and, as a result, she died. I split with him immediately.” We talked for just a few minutes, and she asked how I had been in her dream. I explained that I am both a Dream Walker and a person who communicates with the dead, and I could hear her mother’s distress in the dream and naturally responded so that if I could be of any assistance I would do so. She was so grateful. She asked if her mother was alright and I told her that the minute she had split with him, her mother was at peace (something I knew because as she was telling me what had happened, her mother orbed in, smiled at me with tears of joy in her eyes, nodded, and then went into the Light).
These sorts of things are what makes life interesting. But none of that would be possible if I approached every dream of the dead with fear and apprehension. Instead, I have been trained to walk through the dreams with a sense of awe and curiosity, helping wherever I can. When I am called, I respond.