It was the early morning of January 26, 2013. I was at home, having come from the hospice where my father slept the afternoon of Friday, the 25th, and I was within the comfortable ambit of my own bed on a cold and wintery morning. I had risen very early and had gone back to bed after having lit the colored lights of the small Christmas tree still standing on the dresser in the bedroom. The lights wrapped in front of the statue of the Virgin, the one with the Christ child with a broken ceramic arm, the one I call La Madre del Brazo Roto, and she stood upon the gleam of a blue candle.
Sleeping again, my family was in a city on the water. It was a park area, fairly new; there were no signs of older structures. It seemed like a combination of a park on the water, bright cottages on canals, a modern Venice built in a sunny spot in Florida, maybe. Perhaps something like Johns Island north of Vero Beach - smaller houses, however - with numerous canals through the properties and some small commercial properties near the park and amusement areas.
We were on the edge of a large body of water, like Johns Island borders the Atlantic, or a town like Empire, Michigan borders Lake Michigan.
We seemed to be doing what folks do in such places, walking, talking, looking: nothing too interesting. It was a sunny day; everything was very bright.
At some point I saw an enormous amount of water in the air, held up as if by an invisible enormous tablespoon. It was at a distance, but close enough to instill a sense of wonder and fear.
The invisibly gigantic tablespoon dumped its load of water into the large body of water nearby. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, apparently since the massive amount of water in the sky was not to be dumped on top of us.
However, I felt certainty that there would be a tidal wave or tsunami as a result of the displacement of water in the ocean or lake equal to the massive amount of the sky-borne water. I was sure that it would overwhelm us.
There was a long moment of anticipation, like waiting for immense change, like staring at Richard Dadd's The Fairy Feller's Master Stroke, and making a painful effort to hold one's breath on the edge of chaos and change.
The tidal wave did come, and I saw water pouring from openings in various architectural objects, thinking it was, perhaps, but a small bore, and would prove to be an inconvenience and nothing more, but then I looked up and saw the crest of the approaching wave far over my head, and I knew we were all to be killed.
The wave hit; we tumbled in it. My mind seemed to be straining at this point to continue the story, to follow the churning wave and see what happens to us; it seemed as if there were scripts available and shots edited from films of people being pulled choking from the water, and these could be used or edited in.....
However, we died.
I do not think I have ever died in a dream before.
Afterwards, we inhabited together a cottage with a warm wooden interior with plantation blinds on the windows and doors. We were in a life between normal life and death, an in-between state. I think we briefly discussed it, some saying we survived, and some saying we had not, but now were in another state of being.
There was a front door, a small foyer area, and about four steps leading down into the living area of this mahogany cottage of another life; I remember watching a family member - maybe myself - sweep those steps and ponder the future.........
It was like a limbo. We seemed to go on as before, but knew we could not be perceived by anyone alive... maybe. It is not quite clear.
There was a kitchen of the antiquity of my dreams; it had been used a thousand times by my personal Morpheus, and must stand in the back lot of Montag Universal Dream Films. It was a shadow kitchen to which someone walked from a brightly lit hall, and there was an old time telephone on an old time hall stand... but not visible. I knew it was there just beyond the dark shape of the person entering the dark kitchen, but it was out of the picture, for my view was from inside the darkened kitchen and I saw out into the light, and the stand and telephone were off to the side.......
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notes
I had come from the hospice; death is all around us. I suppose it is clear enough. I did mention Richard Dadd to my nephew on January 24, a Thursday.
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Addendum
Dreams are very interesting, and here is a germane one:
http://joe-ouellette.blogspot.com/2012/08/dream-about-massive-tsunami-tital-wave.html
Mr. Ouellette forces meaning based on old stories onto his dreams, but we all do.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
DREAM ABOUT A MASSIVE TSUNAMI TIDAL WAVE
Dream August 1, 2012 by EJ Ouellette
Dreamt a bunch of us were running for our lives up north
somewhere. I knew Nibiru was coming and was going to cause a massive flood
around the world. I was panicking and running as fast as I could pulling my
daughter behind. I saw an apartment building and we ran inside to get as high
as we could. As we got to the top I could see a giant wave coming quickly in
the distance and before I could even think about it, it was upon us. I took a
couple of huge breaths of air and held my daughter really tight. The wave
pounded against us but then I realized we were alive and not washed away. I was
out of breath since we were under water so long. I realized we were would be
fine after that. I started to cry, as I knew many people in the Arctic were
washed away and that the arctic was seriously destroyed and thought maybe all
the snow had melted.
NOTE: I just read
somewhere that Nibiru’s debut in our solar system would be on August 17th and
would
leave around the Sept 17th. Also Nibiru supposedly takes 3600 years to
return to earth. 7200 years ago was the FLOOD. Also interesting to note
is that every culture from around the world talks of a flood 7200 years
ago. 3600 years ago was when Manna fell from heaven.
EJ Ouellette
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