In the Spring of 2014, I had a “key dream” (the kind I remember forever), a bright Dream of the Future. In it a “good friend” invited me to go with him on a drive down to the western shore of Penobscot Bay. This was an invitation that I could not refuse… Pen Bay is a piece of God’s country that I love to visit and then return home to another piece of God’s country that nurtures me to the depth of my soul – my home in Oxford Hills. The dream developed around an off–the–track train wreck that I saw happen, but in which I was not involved as a passenger. After it had passed, I scrambled through the wreckage into the still–standing trees of a deep, dark forest that called me to walk through it, on the other side of which I saw a beautifully clear image of where we humans are going.
My “good friend”
This “good friend” is a featureless presence that I have known ever since I first met him in the early 1930s when he was my “imaginary childhood playmate”. I used to tell my mother about my latest adventure with him, and she got used to asking me what was going on with him in my life, because he was as much there in my waking life as well as my sleeping life. When I was about four years old, I had a dream in which we separated. He told me he was leaving and in response to my question he told me he would be back… I would know when.
He came back to me in a guided imagery on forgiveness that was part of a three–day workshop on end–of–life issues and hospice work in 1989. In subsequent dreams, it has become clear to me that he never really “left” me. He is now my “inner guide”, who stepped into the background of my consciousness and quietly set up all of the coincidences of my life that brought me to Maine to provide general surgical services and to learn the H.O.P.E. healing work. This dream from 2012 remained secluded in my memory until I began hearing the expression, “It’s a train wreck,” coming from people in public talking about our present situation. I knew that it was time to share the dream.
The Bright Dream of the Future:
When we got to Pen Bay he drove up to an outlook point and parked. We got out to take in the beautiful view. We had no sooner got to the berm overlooking the bay than I heard a loud racket off to my right. I turned to look at what might be causing it, to be stunned by the sight of a 1940’s three–car commuter train crashing through the forest, clearly off its track and without an engineer in the lead car! It was going so fast that when it reached the berm it launched out over the bay, crashing, full–length, into the water.
As it went past, I could see that it was full of passengers – very strange ones, indeed. They all looked alike: modern businessmen in black suits, with white shirt and dark tie; very fair skin and smoothly combed black hair. They looked like paper cutouts of Mitt Romney glued onto the glass of each window! Curious, I walked up to the train as the end was just about to disappear under the bay. Suddenly, a strange pale white porcelain–like hand reached out and grabbed me by my right ankle — the one that I had smashed in a 1972 accident caused by extreme fatigue and bitterness. Surprised that my past was trying to take me to die with the train wreck, I knew that there was a residue of self–judgment that I could let go of. Fearlessly, I knew that my walking stick – an Irish shillelagh that could transform into a weapon – would free me from that death grip. I reversed it and smashed that porcelain hand. I was free!
As the train disappeared under the water, a huge, gray, sightless aquatic mammal rose out of the water and dropped itself down on the train, assuring the death of all its passengers! I felt a strange sense of relief! I now looked across the wreckage left by the crashing train to see a dense, dark forest looming on the far side. I knew I had to go through it! I worked across the wreckage and stood before the first still–standing tree, not knowing how to move forward. The tree got brighter in front of my eyes, and I knew I could ask it to help me find a way through. It told me to look past it, find the next bright tree, and ask it. I did, and in this way, tree by tree, I was shown the way through that dark forest.
After a while the whole forest began to get brighter, and I could see a clearing beyond it. When I entered that clearing, I found myself looking at a large railroad terminus with a three–car train on each track next to its platform. Each train had an engineer, ready to roll. As I looked further, I saw people coming out of the forest walking towards that platform which stood directly before them. After climbing the the short flight of stairs onto the platform they boarded their train. When a train became full, the doors closed and it left the station. Looking farther ahead of the moving train, I could see that all tracks leading out of the terminus converged into one track that led to a beautiful golden sun on the horizon.
And there my dream ended…. And little did I know then about the absence of the engineer until the events of Donald Trump’s first 100 days in the office of POTUS. I knew I needed to tell my legislature how concerned I am about the dangerous qualities of our unelected “president” I went into the stillness of deep meditation every day for the week of April 10, 2017. The words came to me: tell them about the wreck of the driverless train and ask them to do everything in their power to get the train back on the track, assuring them that they know what needs be done and how to do it. My calls were well received, and I shall call in a reminder every week, having prayed for them as Americans to keep in mind that they are members of the human community.
A subsequent meeting
I knew I was looking at the future of the human race on earth… and little did I know that what I had already written would be a segue to the following: a rich dialogue with a person whom I would meet at a conference on consciousness later that year, Jeanne White Eagle. Jeanne recommended that I read her book, Eyes Open, Looking for the Twelve — Blueprint for a New World (Create Space, 2014), about a repeated dream that she had had about what the future contained. One of its details was that of twelve other beings who have had the same dream, and they are to find each other! (You can find all of this on Facebook at: Eyes Open, Looking for the Twelve—Blueprint for a New World)
As Jeanne and I developed dialogue around the topic, I realized that I was not one of the twelve. Rather, I have known for many years that I am a doorman – a guide – to that future, holding open its door for all who would go through it even to the point of excluding myself in this lifetime. Of interest, Jeanne does not describe herself as an “author”. I offered her the thought I have that she is a perfect “reporter/recorder” of the content of the dream. Her dream is a vital, detailed description of what lies ahead for this world.
I offered her that my dream is about how we get to her dream, which is about what that bright light on the horizon contains. When you read her book, it will engage you and help you find your way past the train wreck of today into and through the dark forest of the unknown that lies beyond the chaos. We will get through that forest with the help of its trees. We will board our trains knowing that it is all a unified field of consciousness, and that Mother Earth and her children are on track to what Jeanne has seen in her dreams.
And the dream goes on…
And should anyone who reads this blog wish to know more about Jeanne’s dream, I strongly suggest you read what she has to say about The Dreamers.