I’d been ill with a fever for most of the day. I woke up in the early hours after only managing about two hours sleep, and took a paracetamol to stop me from shivering.
When I got back to sleep, I went straight into a dream about my landlord…who’s name I can’t even bring myself to mention as he is the most un-human, human being I have had direct dealings with in my life so far.
In the dream he was mopping my brow and massaging my temples… i.e. acting in a caring manner. With this, I immediately became sharply lucid and had a little chuckle to myself at the irony with which these wake up signals, or dream-signs seem to be designed.
I got up and floated downstairs to the kitchen. But as I did my level of consciousness began to fade. I walked into the front room and saw a big group of people sitting around chatting… this was something that never happened in our house at the time, so I said “Sorry to interrupt, is this an o.b.e.?”
All together they said “YES” in the tone of people who had been dutifully waiting for me to ask the most boring question in the world.
I did my usual jump in the air to lock in the lucidity, floated for a while then flew through the ceiling. Feet first, I traveled through what felt like one dimensional layer and landed somewhere in complete darkness. I felt safe, and aware that I was in a room somewhere.
I said “Hello? Does anyone want to guide me somewhere please?”
A single, large eye appeared very clearly in the centre of my vision. It stayed for about twenty seconds so I had plenty of time to stare into it. I savoured this opportunity as I’d heard people talk about seeing a big eye and was curious about how it would feel. I breathed deeply, watching the colour and the detail of the iris become more vivid with each breath.
The answer I felt on holding the question of what or who it was, was simply that it was me.
Gradually, and with a couple of ‘Clarity now’ commands I began to be able to make out shapes in the room until it became clear where I was. It appeared to be a very small music room at a school. It was quiet, and I was standing behind an old wooden desk on a rough, beige carpet. I could see two keyboards, a guitar and some shelves with a few books, files and a set of maracas.
Everything was solid to the touch and my hands looked just like they do in the physical.
My first thought was to look for clues as to what I was doing here so I searched around excitedly.
Under the desk were a set of small ‘Alice in Wonderland’ books. I opened one of them but there was nothing legible inside, or I couldn’t focus properly on the writing. I think I was hoping to find a note with an instruction like “eat me” !
I felt that these books were there simply to serve as confirmation that I was in another dimension and that it was time for another adventure.
I flew out through the closed door of the room, feeling a very slight resistance from its density, then proceeded along a series of wide corridors which eventually opened out and led to a long, sunny veranda overlooking a warm, golden beach.
Flying was totally effortless in this experience, and the further I flew, the more beautiful the landscape became. I came to an area of very tall conifer trees and spent a while swooping around through the tops of them. As I looked down I saw that it was a huge, rocky canyon filled with very tall, castle – like buildings, with trees all around them. The foundations of these structures must have been about 150 meters below me as I weaved around them, admiring their turrets, every one unique.
I moved on from the canyon and came to a grassy verge on my right with two men sitting in the sun, drinking cans of beer. They looked kind of trampy. I went over to them, making a conscious effort to conceal my excitement and said
“Hi guys, I hope you don’t mind me bothering you but I’m not from around here and I’m a newbie to all this flying lark. I wondered if you’d mind telling me where I am and whether it’s o.k. to fly here? How many layers out from the physical are we?”
They both listened attentively but I noticed one of them seemed very irritated by my questions as he made a sour face and turned away, tutting, so as to leave the other one to speak to me.
He said “Ok, I’ll tell you what, I’ll help you…I’ll show you something that might help explain it…Come on, we’re going to the cemetery.”
“To show me your grave?” I said. “Yeah.”
I asked if we would be flying there and he replied adamantly “NOOOO”, but then he got up and flew off !
I followed him over a railway track, then a beautiful sparkly river. It was very earth-like, very idyllic and the atmosphere of the place was pleasant and calm.
After a minute of flying behind him, we both seemed to have forgotten where we were originally going.
We arrived at a shop front and went inside to a reception desk with a friendly looking middle aged woman behind it. It felt like the entrance of some kind of learning institute.
He introduced me to the woman behind the counter and said “This little Missy is just starting out flying, so I’m showing her around a bit”.
He put his foot on some kind of sensor on the floor and the woman walked around to a metal turnstile near where we were standing. She took a reading from a dial on the wall which appeared to correspond to the sensor. It was made of brass with a glass front. His reading read just over 40 ‘somethings’ on a dial with about 150 notches.
They gestured to me that it was my turn. Excitedly, I put my foot on the sensor. The dial barely reached 5 ‘somethings‘ !
It was clearly an entry requirement to get a reading over a certain level. Level of what though?!
I felt it was measuring life force, or consciousness, or something alike.
Unfortunately at this point I suddenly zoned out and woke up back in my bed…Dying to know where he was going to take me! And what was behind that turnstile!?
On reflection :
Conifer trees had popped up a few times in o.b.e.s by now. I supposed that being evergreens they symbolised the eternal nature of the soul. Being trees, they are firmly rooted to the earth for a lifetime so I guessed that could be a simple reminder of what we are as humans…pretty vague conclusion but it didn’t feel like anything too important, more of a background theme.
The two men’s reaction to my question: This irritated attitude was becoming quite a familiar occurrence when conversing with locals on some of the astral planes. As he said he was going to take me to a cemetery, I concluded that some of these people are probably quite unhappy about being dead, and don’t really want it rubbed in their face by some over excited traveller who gets to go back to their physical body whenever they want. That would explain why in some environments it’s quite a taboo to fly and it feels like people can see you but they don’t want to look.