Photo by Andrea Leopardi on Unsplash

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. 

It was almost three A.M. on a summer night in 2007 and I was wide awake.

So I passed the long sleepless night on the computer, drifting from one website to the next, until I stumbled upon a bible passage I knew by heart. 

The 23rd Psalm.

I remembered how I had committed this psalm to memory as a child and how I used to recite it before bed from time to time in the years that followed. So I said the old familiar passage right there over the keyboard and then I set aside my laptop and fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning with a sense of excitement I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. 

I didn’t usually remember my dreams, but I remembered this one. It was detailed and magical and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. 

Heart pounding, I turned on my laptop and captured my journey through the night as quickly as I could.

Aside from the headings and a few minor edits, what follows is the account of the dream, as I typed it out that morning.  

Part I: The Hospital

As the dream opens, I’m approaching a big hospital. I’m working as a nurse again and this is the first day of a new job and I’m not sure where to go (a common problem in many similar dreams). I go to several outside doors and find them locked. Finally, at the last door I find an elderly woman on the ground in severe pain. She tells me that she has had two difficult surgeries and that she will die before she goes back to the hospital again.

I don’t know what to do or say, so I go in through the door. I’m looking for the emergency room and at first I am lost. After asking for (and not understanding) directions (another common work dream problem) I wander onto an elevator. There is a young doctor in a brilliant white coat inside the elevator. I tell him what has happened, and he gets off and goes with me to see the woman and her relatives, who are there with her. He tells them that she doesn’t have to come into the hospital if she doesn’t want to and they take her away.

I am at a brightly lit a nurse’s station. I have the feeling that I’ve been working here for some time. And that there are no bad feelings associated with that (which has never happened to me in dreams about nursing or in my nursing career in general). The young doctor is at the station too, looking at charts. After a moment, he stops and says that he has to move away soon and that he needs to learn the route by traveling it. He suggests that we all need time away from our work and that we should go on an adventure together.

Part II: The Journey

We take two cars. There is an odd assortment of women (presumably nurses). One is very beautiful. Her eyes are a vivid sea-water blue and her face is high-boned and delicate. She wears a layered gown of shimmering blue silk and I find her very exotic. Around her neck hangs a deep blue sapphire necklace and some of the bluest lapis I have ever seen.

There is an older woman, as well. She looks like a woman I know in real life. She is sweet and lost and seemingly lonely, just like her real-life counterpart. There are several other women. One is young and withdrawn; the others have already faded. As it turns out, this is a journey of discovery. There are moments of awkwardness because I don’t know anyone well, but there are other moments that seem almost euphoric.

We are on a train and I spend time alone. I am sitting in a day car with many windows. The car is rushing through a sunny countryside though I am more aware of the streaming sun than I am the scenery. As I sit, an idea for a book overtakes me. The images and characters and dialogue are vivid. And they stream through my mind so quickly it is all I can do to write them down. The story is about a man involved with two women. One is young and beautiful, but she is also married and in the end, he chooses the one who is unencumbered. The manuscript flashes by from beginning to end. Somehow I capture it.

A lot of different things happen. Sometimes we’re on the train and sometimes it seems that we have disembarked along our way. We are in a jewelry store. I see many lovely things. I look at a small locket depicting a traditionally Catholic guardian angel with children, but it’s small and drab - nothing like the beautiful pieces worn by the woman in blue. I sense that it is all that is available to me but I don't buy it. In another scene, the women and I decide to swap clothing. I have a single article of clothing I’m proud of—some sort of gold and red top. I offer it to the woman in blue and she accepts it.

Part III: Our Destination

It seems that we have arrived at university or school. The woman in blue shows me a sort of screen that is not a television but a bright flowing blue divided into many different shades which appear as if pressed between two panes of clear glass. The screen swivels like an old-fashioned chalkboard and the many shades of blue swirl together in changing breathtaking patterns. It is vividly blue and has a shine to it that is almost metallic. It reminds me of a sand art item I saw once in a variety store but much, much better. Its beauty and the spectrum of blue is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

The women and I are together in a classroom. A book review or lecture is being delivered. A man is showing us pictures from a book he has written. At first the content seems Buddhist and then it’s something else, but I don’t remember clearly just how it is different. We’re all moved by his presentation and find it very inspiring. For some reason, we know all about him and are surprised he’s become so spiritual. It seems that he was famous in some way earlier in life and that he had a bad reputation at that time.

Then I am outside with the young doctor. He asks me about my parents and I tell him something. briefly, without going into detail. He letters a sort of monument to my father (in cobalt blue). He invites me to letter the one for my mother myself, but his lettering is perfect and I have terrible handwriting (in dreams and in life). So I ask him to do it for me and he does. The monument only has my parents' names. Or I think it does because I don’t recognize the characters or letters. The monument includes no information about who they were or what they did. But it seems complete as is.

My mother’s monument transforms into an ornament made out of clear glass with deep blue lettering. I know that I’m supposed to hang it in a tree at our family homestead and, all at once, I am there. It’s not the big main farmhouse where my mother grew up but something similar to the smaller house that she lived in before my grandfather inherited the farm. There is something about the tree having been cut back in preparation. I hang the ornament on a branch and leave.

Part IV: The Return Trip 

I find myself back on the train and discover an old book. The cover is a work of art—old fashioned, intricate, tooled leather. It is dusty and a bit worse for wear, but still handsome. I’m very impressed with it. I open it and see I have written it. I’m surprised but, at the same time, I remember.

Finally, we’re at the end of our journey. We sit at a big table and talk about how we have changed. I’m wearing a sparkling red ruby or garnet bracelet. We decide that we should exchange jewelry as souvenirs of our trip.

I don’t want to give up my bracelet, but I offer it anyway, secretly hoping that the woman in blue will give me some of her lapis. Instead, she gives her jewelry to the older woman (who has nothing to offer her in return). I feel disappointed but understand that this is the right thing to do. Although my desire for the beautiful blue gemstones is strong, there is no associated envy or bitterness. I feel strongly that all is as it should be.

The young doctor thanks us and tells us that he now knows the route he should take to his new home. He does not return to the hospital and I am not sure if the women return either. I have a sense of parting. It is bittersweet, but I know it feels right and I have no regrets.

Part V: Back to the Beginning

Finally, I am back at the hospital. Someone is holding a funeral for the woman who was lying in pain just outside of the door when I first arrived. The funeral is being held on the other side of the large parking lot. It is far away, at the edge of the lot, but I can see a seated effigy draped in red and understand that this effigy represents the woman who has died.

I am now inside the hospital. A patient on the floor where I work has passed and I remember that he was the man who taught us when we were away. I know his history, so I’m not surprised that he died alone. I’m not sad about it either because I remember his lecture and know that he was at peace.

As I am leaving his room, or perhaps the floor, a young girl comes in and asks for the man. She says that she is his granddaughter and I tell her he is gone. Surprisingly, I find the right words. I tell her that it’s alright, that he has changed, and for some reason her tears are cathartic for both of us. We leave the hospital together and I have the feeling that everything has come full circle.

Afterward 

I finished typing out the dream and turned off my laptop.

I was sitting on the same couch I’d slept on, wearing the same sweat pants and t-shirt I’d worn the day before. The room was still small and cluttered, and the stereo from the house next door was already blasting.

But everything had changed.

_________

This post is excerpted from my upcoming book The Spirit Dream.

It was originally published here on the blog thirteen years ago under the title Dreaming of Sapphires.

© 2026 Barbara Graver. All rights reserved.

Photo by natalie bowers on Unsplash

I had two dreams about stone walls in 2024. While the dreams were far apart, I believe they were episodes in a single dream series. In a dream series, each dream is connected by a common but developing theme.

These dreams, or this series of dreams. began last year around Easter, so I decided to share the final dream now. You can find a link to the first two stone wall dreams at the bottom of this post.

The Dream Wall Dream

In the dream, I was at a house in my old neighborhood in suburban Michigan. The development changed a lot over the ten years we lived there but in this dream is was a lot like I remembered it in the beginning.

The homes were scattered across a large track of old growth forest. Most had large lots that were entirely wooded in the back and you could walk for a long way then without seeing any manmade structures at all.

I was in a part of the development near the home of a childhood friend. There were two houses. One belonged to an unnamed and unseen dream friend who was about to get married. I was inside a second house, very close by the first. Both houses were ranch-style homes.

I understood that the friend about to be married had dreamt a dream he felt was important. I knew that I needed to interpret it but I was not supposed to leave. This was a problem because there was someone I had to talk to about the interpretation. I had a sense that dream interpretation (or possibly seeing the person who would help with that interpretation) was actually illegal and I had to sneak out the back without being seen and walk quickly into the woods to find him.

It was winter, and the sky was gray, and the ground was covered with snow. The trees were just as I remembered them, tall and thin with bare black trunks. It felt like evening or maybe early morning and I set out in the direction I would have taken to our old house.

I saw that there was a wall built through the woods, or rather several adjoining walls because they were all different. I guessed that each wall was the back of a different property and, as is the case with houses, some were better maintained than others.

At one place, the wall was built out of crumbling cement blocks. It was quite low, but I could see that the wall for the next property was high and well built out of carefully laid fieldstone. There was a young man there who seemed to be a sort of guard or gatekeeper, and he confirmed that I was in the right place.

So I climbed over the low next door wall and cut over toward the house that went with the high, well-built wall.

The house was a mansion, and the occupant was renowned for his ability to interpret dreams. I was invited in. The interpreter of dreams was an older man sitting on the floor of a large, carpeted (possibly unfurnished) room. He was holding a mysterious scroll which he did not explain.

I told him about my friend's dream and shared my own awkward interpretation. I don't know if he provided feedback or additional insights. If he did, I can’t remember. And I don't remember my own interpretation or what the dream was about either.

The Synchronicities

I had the first and second wall and gate dreams around Easter of last year. Those dreams made me wonder if dream interpretation and the Catholic faith were compatible. The first and second dreams came at a difficult time when I was struggling with my writing and a group I belonged to then.

The second dream came when I was struggling to reconcile my faith with the Jungian perspective on dreams and consciousness.

A few days after the dream, I talked to our parish priest about my interest in dreamwork. He seemed to have a healthy interest in dreams and saw no harm in recording them or reflecting on them. He even shared a dream of his own.

When I got home from Mass that day I decided to listen to a Murray Stein video.

Murray Stein is the Jungian analyst who convinced me (via the This Jungian Life podcast) that Jung's approach to dreams was the right approach for me. What was especially interesting about the video I watched that day was that it mentioned that Murray Stein was a Christian.

Who would have thought?

Not me, certainly. But I couldn’t help feeling that there was a connection and that it all circled back to the dream.

The Dream Wall Revisited

I think it's relevant that I wanted to interpret a friend's dream (in dream 2) and felt that it was not allowed. I think this speaks to my uncertainty about the Church’s position on dream interpretation which was something that was on my mind at the time of all three stone wall dreams.

In the second dream, I had to sneak away to find the dream master. When I did, I encountered a wall. It was made of stone, just like the wall in the dreams I had at Easter 2024. It was not the same wall, but it was a similar sort of barrier. In dreams one and two the barrier stopped me. In dream three, it did not.

The wise old man and the mysterious scroll were important elements in dream three. The scroll may represent “learning, knowledge; the unfolding of life and knowledge; the scroll of…destiny.” To Christians it is “The Book of Life,” also associated with St. James the Great, Isaiah and the prophets. The Greeks considered the scroll to be an attribute of Aesculapius. The Egyptians associated it with knowledge. (Cooper, J.C.)

To me the old man and the scroll represent ancient knowledge and a mystical perspective. My own awkward interpretation of the dream reminds me that there is still a lot to learn.

The synchronicity of talking to my parish priest and learning that a Jungian analyst I greatly admire was Christian helped resolve much of the confusion I had with the first stone wall dreams. The priest’s open and accepting attitude was a sharp contrast to that of others I was dealing with at the time.

The Dream Series Theme

I am in a different place, now, than I was in 2024, and had to be, I think, to begin to understand the series as a whole.

The common elements were the walls themselves and the mysteries beyond them—the volkknot and illegible letters in dreams one and two and the unread scroll in dream three. The various walls in the second dream may represent different or incorrect approaches to the mystery.

Most importantly, I think the wall in each of these dreams represents the “passage from outer profane space to inner and sacred space; also symbolic of the sacred enclosure, which is both a protection and a limitation.” (Cooper, J.C.)

I was concerned about going through the door in the walls in dreams one and two. In the last dream I recognized that my concerns came from an external source (an expectation or law). Once I was in the forest I forgot these concerns and easily found a way around the high wall.

There is a lot that can be said about the elements in dream three—especially the mysterious dream master and the journey through the forest. To me, however, the theme is about barriers—both real and imagined—and how they may be overcome.

About Dream Series

Dream series are more common than a lot of people realize. I talk a bit about them in this video: January Update

Photo by Robert Woeger on Unsplash

The Dream 

I go to a lake and see a white swan. I like it so much that I pick it up and take it home. It is hauntingly beautiful, with bright, white feathers. At one point it looks at me, turning its neck in an odd, angular but graceful, way and I see its eyes are not really like animal eyes. Instead they appear human. I can't remember the color but they seem unusually beautiful and expressive. 

I decide to keep the swan in my room because I know my family won't approve of it being brought into the house. I let it sleep next to me in bed and it is warm and I take comfort in knowing it's there. At one point in the dream I am telling someone about the swan and how it was not like other swans, that even its feathers were soft like fur, and how wonderful it was.

Later in the dream, I'm sitting in my room on my bed with the swan and I notice it is surrounded by tarot cards. It picks up the cards one by one in its beak and lay them out for a reading. In the dream, I am fascinated instead of surprised. I see some pentacles and the death card. My dog, Luna, is in the room (in real life and also in the dream). In the dream she starts growling and barking at the swan.

Context and Interpretation

This is an older dream that I just decided to publish. I wrote this section at the time of the dream and will add a couple of comments at the end of this post.

While I do believe that certain dreams can be prophetic, to me, the most common purpose of  dreams is to help us better understand ourselves and situations we may be facing. I think that dreams can address spiritual dreams without being in any way prophetic.

Spiritual elements in the swan dream included the tarot card piece coupled with the unusual beauty of the swan. I tend to look outside my own personal experience for dreams like this especially when I don't have any real experience with a particular element. 

In this case, I don't have any waking experience with swans aside from really liking a bas-relief I saw once of Leda and the swan and couldn't find again. While I love Keats, his poem about Leda and the Swan never really spoke to me.

My favorite book on symbols did have something interesting to say, however:

Combining the two elements of air and water, the swan is the bird of life: the dawn of day... It also symbolizes solitude and retreat and is the bird of the poet; its dying song is the poet's song... ~ An Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols by J.C. Copper

I do have a lot of experience with tarot and used to read professionally. I have been thinking about using tarot again for personal insight and reflection. I have been worried about getting pulled back into predictive reading, however, which I would like to avoid.

My dog Luna is my best friend in the world and I feel she was being protective in this dream. I don't think that necessarily means there is anything dangerous about the swan or tarot, however, because Luna is a barker and too protective of me at times. She also extremely aware of my moods. So I take her behavior as being more about inner conflict than an actual threat.

I actually think that this dream is more about writing than it is about tarot, because that has also been something very much on mind as I get older. I love blogging but I really would like to finish and publish a book. Possible my swan song.

The fact that Keats wrote a poem on this topic, is interesting. While I don't love that particular poem, I don't love a lot of my own work either. On some level the the swan may referring to poetry or possibly poetic writing.

In it's highest application, I think of tarot as a tool for person insight. So I'll consider what insight might be relevant to my writing. According to J.C. Cooper, tarot may represent esoteric insight. That's interesting to me because I've been conflicted over just how much metaphysical content I should include in a current project.

Update July 2025

When I first wrote this interpretation I was still looking to associate every dream to some actionable thing in my waking life. Now, as I learn about Jung, I'm more inclined to look at inner states.

I do use tarot now, not predictively, but as an aid to active imagination--though I don't spend as much time with it, or with any form of inner work, really, as I would like.

I was still conflicted about card reading when I had this dream and I think that shows. I was secretive in the dream and a little put-off when the swan began its reading. Luna who may be a bit of dreamwalker :) was there for that reason.

But it is a powerful, probably even an archetypal dream and I think the association between the swan, tarot reading and Death, the card of transformation call for further investigation. I am especially interested in Greek mythology in the wake of another more recent dream.

I'll be sharing more on all of this in my next post!

Of New Dreams and Old

Some symbols are universal. Others are personal. For me, circles are both.

When I have a dream that has a sphere, or a disk, or a looping path that brings me back to where I started, it always seems to mean something. So when a recent dream had a circular element, I paid attention.

And the more attention I paid, the more the structure of the dream reminded me of another, older dream—one whose full meaning has always eluded me. 

I had that dream in 2008. My life was at a low point and the future seemed bleak. And then there was the dream. A big magical dream. Brimming with color. Filled with mysterious symbols. Making me think that maybe God had remembered me.

I called it the Spirit Dream and, for the next ten years, I went from one metaphysical stopping point to the next, trying to make what I found fit. But it never did or, at least, never did for long. 

Then, a couple of months ago, I heard Murray Stein interviewed on This Jungian Life, and something he said absolutely fit. It fit so well in fact that it cast the Spirit Dream in an entirely new light. And in that light I saw that the dream wasn't really about a particular spiritual practice or deity or decision. It was about my inner life.

I didn't really know what to do with that, but I felt like I was supposed to do something. So I joined the This Jungian Life Dream School, applied to a Dream School dream group and got accepted. 

Then, I had another dream. The new dream wasn't as big or as beautiful as the old one, but it was still a dream about a journey, and I was still encountering things along the way. I felt that this new dream helped explain the Spirit Dream, or that maybe it picked up where the old dream left off.

The Journey by Bus Dream

In the first part of the dream, I have a boyfriend who is remodeling a house for me. I’m happy about this because I like him. He has a second house that he is also remodeling. My memory of the dream boyfriend is that he is a tall man and may have blond curls.

Someone has given me a metal disk. It is gold or brass. The back is gold colored. The front is red with a gold center. It seems important to me but I don’t know what it is or how I got it.

I am in the town I live in. I am going to my house to meet the boyfriend and some other people. I am driving north on North Main Street and miss the right turn up the hill. I’m stressed about being late and looking for a turn. 

Most of the side streets are one-way (the wrong way) and the only one that isn’t is very steep. I remember hearing a story about a city bus—which is what I’m driving—that went up the steep street and how all the passengers bounced right out of their seats when they hit the crest, so I keep on driving. This part of town is kind of run down.

I pass a roadside parking area on the right. The parking area is a small dirt lot that’s part of an old, abandoned motel. I remember that there used to be motorhomes for psychics there and that you could go there for a reading. I think there is still a sign advertising the psychics (in the dream). But now the psychic motorhomes are gone and all that’s parked there are various work trucks.

I reach the larger intersection (with a hard right) I’ve been looking for and see there is roadwork and traffic barricades in place. A man is directing traffic and I realize that the road I want to take (the hard right) is temporarily closed, so I turn left into a small thrift shop. I go into the thrift shop and see there is a big pile of journals for sale. 

I sit down on the floor and start to look through the journals and realize they are all mine and I have donated them to the shop. One has my writing in it and I think I should probably buy it so other people don’t read it but I buy another bigger (unwritten in) journal instead. I hear water running like a shower.

I go back out and see the roadwork is done. The man directing traffic is gone. I have to make a U turn which is a big wide swing and difficult to negotiate with the bus but I manage it. I am waiting for the light to change so I can go left up the sloping hill to my house. 

I start thinking about the boyfriend and realize that the second house he is remodeling is for him to live in. I feel okay about that, but I know we'll have to discuss it. I decide to tell him I’m autistic and that it’s good that we won’t live together because I don’t do well with live-in relationships, anyway. I’m relieved to realize that I have a way to explain myself.

From Point A to Point B

The Spirit Dream described a full round-trip journey to a mysterious location, while the new dream was nothing more than an ordinary drive from point A to point B. But, even though the drive was short, I passed things that seemed to have meaning.

The steep hill road. The abandoned psychic parking lot. The thrift store, full of old journals.

Three events. Just like there were three events in leg one (and leg two and three) of the Spirit Dream journey.

So I decided to submit the new dream to the dream group and see what they had to say, and I got some fascinating insights.

One member pointed out that the journal choice might represent a fresh start. Another said that the boyfriend who planned to maintain his own home might be an animus figure. Everyone was curious about the red and gold disk. The group connected the disk to amulets and to alchemy—and it seemed to me that this was the real key to both the new dream and the old one. 

I'd always thought that the color red in the Spirit Dream symbolized my own unevolved spiritual nature. Now I wondered if I'd got that wrong. Maybe red wasn't about failing or being at spiritual ground level. Maybe it was about transformation and the possibility of change.

But I wasn't sure if change was still possible. It had been a long time since the first dream—and there were parts of the second one that seemed to reflect some of the mistakes I had made. 

The lot where the psychics once parked reminded me of the various spiritual practices I'd tried and abandoned. 

The old journals made me think about the hundreds of thousands of words I have written here and elsewhere. Words which sometimes seem to have served no purpose whatsoever. 

The steep street seemed to reflect all the opportunities I had missed and all the things I'd thought I'd accomplish, but didn't.

But that wasn't where the A to B journey ended.

Instead, it ended when a road block was removed and I was able to correct my course. 

One really interesting things about the Journey by Bus dream was that it followed the actual layout of the town where I now live. So I know that the turn I was getting ready to make when the dream ended led to the same place as the steep hill road. 

Home.

Which makes me wonder if the Spirit Dream was ever about a mostly external spiritual journey. Or about writing my opus or discovering the truth with a capital T or doing any of other things I’ve imagined and then left undone.

Maybe the dream was really just about getting on with my life after I'd been laid low. Maybe it was about taking a chance when it felt like there wasn't one good thing left in universe. 

Or maybe not. 

Because, unlike signs, symbols point to a multitude of things.

Generously, my dream group has agreed to look at the Spirit Dream in our next session, and I'm curious to hear what they have to say. It is a very old dream but if I'm still dreaming about it I think it makes sense to look at it one more time.

____________

Photo by Илья Мельниченко on Unsplash

Thanks to my recent Rhine Education Center course, Dreams and Altered States, I've been thinking about dreams and how they communicate information. This post shares some of my thoughts on the language of dreams. 

Information Sources 

As explained in our Dreams and Altered States course text, Psychic Dreaming, dreams reflect sensory, psychological or psychic input. Some examples follow. 

• Psychological input might be traced to the stress of the day or worries buried deep in our subconscious. This may lead to disturbing dreams or nightmares.
• Light or sound that bleeds into our sleeping awareness are examples of sensory input that can be incorporated into our dreams.
• Psychic input has an unidentified source that may be defined in different ways by different people. 

My Favorite Theory

In addition to different kinds of input, there are various theories about how information (as listed above) becomes a dream. 

Psychic Dreaming shared several such theories, but the one I liked best was that of neuroscientist J. Allen Hobson. According to Hobson: 

1. A stimulus or input (or information source) causes neurons to fire. 
2. The resulting neural impulses are translated into images. 
3. The subconscious mind makes the images into a narrative (dream). 

This process of creating a narrative is a lot like the process we use to make sense of information we receive when we're awake. But I find the idea that we do it in our sleep interesting.

Especially when it comes to psychic or spiritual dreams which I believe to be received.

Received Information

In one of his books or talks, biophysicist Rupert Sheldrake shares an analogy. 

Imagine that you know nothing of radios and that you assume that the sound is generated by the radio itself. To test your theory, you open the radio and remove some of the parts. When you see that the radio no longer functions, you may assume that you have understood how a radio works. But you would be wrong.

This, according to Sheldrake, is how many scientists approach the brain. And it is how a lot of them approach dreams as well. The parts do matter, obviously, but they are not the source of the message.

Some studies, such as those done with Faraday cages, indicate this analogy isn't valid for the communication of electromagnetic signals. (Though in my view, the mind is still a receiver in a way we don't yet understand.) 

In dreams the mind isn't just a receiver, however, it is also a translator—as Hobson theorizes and dream studies seem to suggest.

Dream Communication Studies

In 1962, American Society for Psychical Research (ASPR) researcher Montague Ullman opened a sleep laboratory at Maimonides Medical Center. Experiments used a sender and sleeping receiver. 

• The sender attempted to communicate an image. 
• Receivers were monitored via EEG in order to be awakened at the end of each REM and report their dreams. 
• Results were judged to be "hits" or "misses" with hits being statistically significant, indicating, that telepathy does in dreams. 

Survey studies by Louisa Rhine and others reinforce the Maimonides Dream Telepathy Study findings. According to these surveys, most (65% or higher) psychic experience happens in the dream state.

Of special interest to me was that, while the Maimonides Dream Telepathy study hits were obvious hits, they were almost never an exact replica of the original image. 

What This Means to Me

I have received to much evidential information in dreams to doubt that such communication is possible. I have also always known that we created the symbolism present in ordinary dreams. 

Psychic and spiritual, however, seemed different me and for most of my life I believed that they symbols they contained were directly communicated. This impacted the way I interpreated my dreams.

Now, thanks to what I learned in Dreams and Altered States, I feel that I'm looking at dreams in a more discerning way.

I wouldn’t go as far to say that dream images are never directly communicated, but it seems likely that w'e translating the information we receive most of the time. To me, it is not a closed system, but I am realizing that we play a much bigger part in our experiences than I imagined.

I will still use the same resources for dream interpretation (Christian / Catholic sources, cultural symbols, personal meaning and experience, etc). But the idea that the images themselves are (probably) my translations will definitely impact my dream work going forward.  

_____________________

Psychic Dreaming (affiliate link), written by our professor Loyd Auerbach, is available through Amazon and elsewhere. Please note: if you buy Psychic Dreaming via my Amazon affiliate link, I may receive a small commission at no cost to you.

To ask Professor Auerbach a question live on YouTube, check out his channel at YouTube.com/@AskProfessorParanormal

For more on about the Rhine Research Center and their wonderful online classes, please visit RhineOnline.org I am not taking Intro to Parapsychology and plan to share some of what I learn in an upcoming post.

The Dream Gate Dream

A couple of weeks ago, I had a dream about a high ancient-looking stone wall. The wall was covered with vines and there was a recessed rustic plank gate or doorway. The overall effect was medieval and charming. 

It might have been dusk or overcast in the dream but I could see everything clearly. Just above the doorway, I saw a symbol that looked like a triquetra. I even exclaimed (in the dream) "that's a triquetra," except I actually said "trifecta," as in horse racing, because things get garbled for me in dreams. Either way, I was excited because I love all things Celtic, so I woke up in the middle of the night and recorded the dream (and drew the symbol) in my dream journal.

Earlier that month, I’d been told that ancient dreamers were always on the lookout for gateways in their dreams. Since my impression in the dream was that I was seeing a wall, not a building, I felt that what looked like a door to modern eyes was technically a gate.  

So I made myself go back to sleep and back into the dream. I found the door again easily and everything was the same—except that instead of the symbol above the door, there was a long narrow sign with lettering. 

Annoyingly, I find it hard to read in dreams and I couldn’t read the sign. I woke up again and wrote down the second dream and went back to sleep, but I didn't go back to the door, that night, or go through it. 

When I woke up the next morning I was thinking how nice it was that I dreamt about the triquetra which I remembered as representing the Trinity and the Welsh triads and other pleasant things. Then I looked at my dream journal and saw that the symbol I had drawn had three interlocking triangles instead of three loops. 

I was pretty sure I remembered the triangle symbol from a passing interest Germanic mythology. I thought it was probably Scandinavian and when I googled it, there it was. 

It was not a triquetra. It was a valknot.

No one is absolutely sure what the valknot symbolizes. Due to its presence on Old Norse funerary items, however, it has been associated with the dead. My thoughts on the dream in light of this particular symbol were that this door is closed and maybe it should stay closed. Or maybe not. 

One Gate, Two Perspectives?

And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. —Matthew 18:18

Then Holy Week came and I noticed another gate / doorway in the Icon of the Resurrection which is traditionally displayed in Eastern Christian churches at Easter.

The Icon of the Resurrection shows Jesus standing on the broken down gates of the netherworld as He pulls Adam and Eve from their tombs to freedom. You can also see King David, Moses, John the Baptist, and others. On the left below Jesus' and the fallen gates, you can see broken locks and the devil, bound. 

In other words, the Icon of the Ressurection shows Jesus going into the realm of the dead to release the captives.

And I couldn't help wondering if the Icon of the Resurrection gate and the dream gate were the same gates or different.

What Does This All Mean?

When it comes to dreams, the question is always the same. What does it mean?

And the truth is, I'm not sure. I'd had a tough week. Historically, several close family members have died in April, including my mother (April 15). Then there is the Passion, which is less brutal than it is hopeful but still pretty darned brutal overall. 

This year a family member was hospitalized on Holy Saturday with a serious illness and stayed in the hospital through Easter and into this week. Various small and not so small things went wrong. Some people were kind and others were not. Those who were not, as it turned out, were Catholic.

So I don't actually know if I'm ready to unpack this particular dream. But I have considered some of the questions it brought up for me. 

Should I go through that particular dream doorway?

Given the connection with the valknot and the icon and the fact that the gate was closed, I think not, or at least not yet. 

Am I divining by dreams?

Probably. 

To me, when the Bible talks about divining, the warning is specific to that time (not to listen to non-Jewish diviners in that particular era). This does NOT mean that warning can't extend to other times and places. But it has always been my sense that it predictive divination that causes problems. 

I do pay attention to my dreams, however, and what I do with them is a form of divination.

Should I keep working with my dreams?

I think so. 

Dreams can be tricky. Like many other life experiences, they can take us in the right direction or in the wrong one. But I believe they're given to us for a reason and that—as the Valkknot and the Icon of the Resurrection clearly shows—there is more than one perspective.

See the Other Dreams in This Series:

• The Dream Wall (Dream 2)
• The Dream Vault (Dream 3)

From the temples of ancient Sumer to the forests of Native America, the owl appears as a frequent and remarkably consistent symbol of the spirit world.

First drawn on prehistoric cave walls, the owl can be associated with religion as early as 2000 BCE as evidenced by the The Queen of the Night Relief, a 4000 year old terracotta base relief presently located in the British Museum in London.  The relief depicts a  winged Sumerian goddess flanked by two large owls and the owls are not decorative but highly symbolic. 

The goddess was called Inanna or 'Divine Lady Owl'.  She was  strongly linked to the underworld through The Descent of Innana.

The story is told on a series of clay tablet from the Queen of the Night period and tells of Inanna's descent into the underworld during the dark of the moon. 

In Pagan Europe, the ancient Celts also saw the owl as a symbol of the underworld while in other cultures the symbolism centered on the soul.  In Australia the aboriginal people believed owls to be the souls of  women. The  Ainu of Japan held the Eagle Owl to be alternately a a divine ancestor or a messenger of the gods.  In Romania, folk tales say that forgiven souls fly to heaven in the guise of Snowy Owls. 

In the Americas, the Aztec god of death, was often depicted with owls and the Hopi god of death was believed to be an owl.  In Mexico, the Little Owl was called "messenger of the lord of the land of the dead", and flew between the land of the living and the dead.  In the Sierras, native peoples believed that the Great Horned Owl captured the souls of the departed and carried them to the underworld.  Several different Native Northern American traditions including the Mojave believed that the soul turned into an owl at death.

The mythology of multiple cultures places the symbolism of the owl firmly in the spirit world.  His mythic role however is largely positive.  As a messenger of the gods he is sacred, a bearer of divine knowledge and a facilitator of communication between the worlds.  As a guide, he bridges the gap between life and death, but more correctly: the space between this reality and the next.

Tiger Lily by Rebecca Maguire

I am currently taking the Clairvoyant One course conducted by Debra Lynn Katz.  One of the thing I love about Debra's method is her emphasis on healing and creative manifestation - both of which were addressed this class.

Using Debra's technique we created a personal intention (mine was "I get direct guidance from spirit on my book and am creating the perfect book quickly and joyously.") and then read on that energy using the image of a flower.  Observing this flower (in this case a daisy) I was able to see a dark cloud surrounding the blossom, dry ground and wilting of the petals.

Debra was able to help me interpret this to mean that my environment is not as nurturing as it could be and that outside influences may be affecting me.  I also saw the drooping petals as an indicator that this goal is not getting the energy (sun/spirit as blocked by dark cloud) or sustenance (dry ground) it needs.  And this is something I need to give some thought to.

We did healing work on our intention which I found quite helpful and then called our energy back out of our flowers.  Interestingly this was when my flower changed the most - turning into some sort of beautiful exotic red lily (a bit like a Tiger Lily).  Debra called this process "calling the need" out.

Using the example of a book (as she did several times when talking to me - even though I had not shared my intention :)  Debra suggested that taking the pressure off our creative process can be liberating.  Even as she said these word I felt lighter and it occurs to me that this class has become to about more than improving my psychic abilities.  It is a true path to healing.

We have two assignments this week.  One is a remote viewing exercise, the other is to do the exercise above with another goal.  Mine is one of spiritual healing.

To meet Debra Katz live on "Spirit Talk" Wed. April 9th please click below!
 (no longer available)

To learn more abot my Clairvoyance One training please check out the following posts!

• Remote Viewing on Malaysian Flight 370: Clairvoyance Class 7 
• Clairvoyance Training Week 5: Learning The Language of Flowers  
• Clairvoyance Training: Psychic Sight & Calling Back Energy (Week 4)  
• Clairvoyance Training: The Healing Power of Psychic Sight (Class 3) 
• Crafting My Own Course of Spiritual Study: Clairvoyance (Class 2) 
• You Are Psychic by Debra Lynn Katz: Clairvoyance Training for Everyone!  (Book Review)

• Clairvoyance Training Week 5: Learning The Language of Flowers 
• Clairvoyance Training: Psychic Sight & Calling Back Energy (Week 4) 
• Clairvoyance Training: The Healing Power of Psychic Sight (Class 3)
• Crafting My Own Course of Spiritual Study: Clairvoyance (Class 2)
• You Are Psychic by Debra Lynn Katz: Clairvoyance Training for Everyone!  (Book Review) 

My Symbol Journal