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Dreams of a Seer 3


I am sorry to say that until now, the writing bug has eluded me for several months. It  happens. Even as I have celebrated my first time as a published author in a hard cover
book this past summer! The book is called “The 7 Joys of Life” by Dr. Amit Nagpal and was recently launched in New Delhi, India. I am honored to be one of several contributing authors as I was asked by Dr Amit to write an excerpt on a subject near and dear to my heart; The Joy of Connecting with Nature. I hope this book finds it’s way to North America soon to be enjoyed by folks on this side of the pond too! 

This is an entry from my dream journal dated Dec 9th 2010. For those of you who recall your dreams, I strongly encourage you to start journaling ONLY the dreams that stay with you long after you have gotten on with your day. If they are that vivid and that memorable, it is most likely that you have either; solved a problem, recalled a past life, seen the future, received an important message, or experienced soul travel. All of these things I have come to learn I do, and have done for a long time. The trick is knowing which one is which, and writing your recollections down while it is still fresh in your mind can help. You may not “get it” until a few years later, but the value of reading a past recording and having a big “AHA!” moment, is so worth it. And now to “the dream”;

♦ I am sitting on the front steps of a simple white home gazing out at a beautiful desert expanse across the dirt road that stretches into forever. The sky is big, wide, indigo blue, and the sun is warming the skin on my upturned face. As I look up into the sky, I suddenly see an odd looking figure floating down from the sky.

The odd figure becomes that of an ample woman, and as she reaches site of the ground across the road, she miscalculates her landing just a little and lands perched atop a saguaro.  I wonder how this woman is not prickled by the cactus. She seems fine and deftly hops down to the dusty earth and briskly brushes the travel dust off her pants. As she turns, I see she is no longer ample, but a very beautiful and strong looking elder. Her face is dark and wide with high cheek bones. She looks a mix of Asian and Native American with thick long and very wavy dark hair. She is wearing soft deer hide pants and a jacket with layers of wavy dark olive green/gold hair of some sort. She has a small leather pouch slung over her back, a woven wide brimmed hat, and a tall wooden staff. I notice a small piece of cactus is stuck to the back of her shoulder but she seems not to notice or care – it suits her. 

As I quietly watch with mild curiosity  the woman shakes something in her hand and a magnificent horse appears in front of her as if from nowhere! It looks like a great war horse with a thick neck and strong body. The horse, like the woman’s coat, is also covered with a blanket woven with layers of long thick wavy olive green/gold hair. The woman begins to lead the horse along – the two are beautiful in their dark shimmery splendor – and they come to stop in front of the white house. I think of her as “The Grandmother”. She does not seem to see me.

I am now inside the house sitting on a worn sofa, and The Grandmother is also in the house. There are men present in the house as well – a father and sons. They each are wearing at least one article of clothing that is the same dark green/gold (pants, a tie, a shirt, a jacket, head band) and as I study each of them, I think to myself “this is right. Good job.” I see that The Grandmother is busy preparing for something and is taking items from her leather pouch and arranging them on a narrow table against the far wall. Her back is to me so I cannot see exactly what she is handling.

 I feel that everyone in the house knows I am there, but none look at, or acknowledge me directly. As the The Grandmother toils, the men seem to be hesitating or waiting for something, so I finally get up from the sofa and think “I should leave now so they can get on with it”. As I am leaving the white house and am stepping back outside, I clearly hear the thoughts of the elder man. With a tone of mild relief, the voice of his mind says “I was wondering what would happen”. 

And then I awake…and my hair looks like a wild woman !! It looks thick and like someone tried to curl it all night!!! I usually wake up with very tidy hair because I don’t move around much, but I awoke in the same position I fell asleep in.

The image of The Beautiful Grandmother with her magical horse, in all their green and gold  splendor, has been permanently etched in my mind’s eye. For a while I wondered what and who the woman was…but I think I have come to know.


Andrea, “Critter Doc”.

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