The following paranormal dream event I had a number of years ago comes directly from the book my wife Barbara and I wrote titled, An Explosion of Being.
I awoke in the middle of the night, almost capturing all of a very colorful and active dream. As I edged back into sleep, suddenly, I was facing what appeared to be the muted colors of several very symmetrical, molecular-type structures. Each looked much like the patterns visible through a child’s kaleidoscope. The contrast to the previous dream’s color and fast-paced action was surprising, especially since there was no movement or sound of any kind. Still close to consciousness, I woke myself, vaguely sensing that something important was happening. But tiredness won out. As the last drops of awareness faded back into sleep, the kaleidoscope images flickered briefly into view.
This phenomena recurred randomly during other nights over the next several years. Each time, the encounter began in the dream state, flowing over, eventually, into a waking consciousness.
This repetitious event never varied and was consistently monotonous. But, the continual reappearance and visual clarity of those images seemed to be forming a comfort based on familiarity. No, it was more than that. It was almost as if I had always known the meaning of those structures and was slowly uncovering that knowledge, layer by layer.
In May of that year, Nicole was still young enough to take afternoon naps. One rainy Sunday, as a dutiful father, I stretched out with her to insure drowsiness. Soon, according to Barb anyway, I was snoring while Nicole happily played with her stuffed animals. In that short span of slumber, I again encountered those familiar geometric shapes. This occurrence, in itself, isn’t noteworthy except for its direct connection to a later, more important event.
May 26, 1980 2:50 AM
“Got to sleep about midnight. Extensive dreaming. In one particular dream, Nikki was calling me. She needed help or assistance of some kind. Soon, she ran to me and threw her arms around my neck.
“At this point, I awakened. I could hear thunder and raindrops beginning to fall on the plants outside the window. Realized that our storm from the evening before was returning. Didn’t open my eyes, but when I was about to, a voice in my mind said, ‘Just relax and enjoy the storm in a different way.’ Immediately, my body calmed with an unusual thoroughness. I, or the essence of me, was almost detached from that relaxed flesh. My mind then became filled with visions of beautiful patterns of color. These patterns would ebb and flow, brighten and change. How wonderful! I was maintaining full consciousness and prolonging a view of something that I had seen only in snatches during previous dream conditions (the geometrical, molecular structures).
“The color patterns then changed to a magnificent panorama of textured greens, containing minute particles of varied color.Vibrations seemingly emanated from each particle. The whole mass appeared to shift and rotate. The depth of this sight began to fluctuate as I sensed that now, I was seeing the ‘true’ sense of color, and perhaps the core of the children’s book I was writing for Nicole.
“Suddenly, my mind was partially filled with a finely textured white light. It gave me a feeling of warmth and expanded my internal perceptions to a much greater degree. I had the distinct sensation of some sort of intelligence trying to contact me. Chills ran up and down my body as I then responded by reaching out for more communication through my mind.
“The patterns of color returned, but there was a noticeable difference. They were tighter, almost spherical in shape, with much finer color hues. The words came to me, ‘you must begin to fully understand these things if you are to grow and progress.’ With that statement, the spheres of patterned texture actually pulsated outward toward me and seemed to penetrate my being with the understanding.
“My consciousness of the thunder returned. As a gentle, long rumble bounced in the distance, thoughts of the children’s books for Nicole sprang to mind. Then, I truly understood this pulsating communication I was experiencing was related to all of the books Barb and I would ever write.
“I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. 2:15 A.M. Lightning was flashing through the window. I thought of Nikki. Before going to bed, she opened her curtains to watch the storm and made me promise to keep the curtains in our room open for us to do the same. I wondered if she, in some way, had helped to awaken me with the original dream so that I would have this experience and see the lightning as well.
For some reason, seemingly apart from my consciousness, I sent her this mental message: ‘I saw the lightning as you wanted, and I do remember the old days.’ Old days? What the hell was that and where did it come from? When Nicole and I took a nap yesterday afternoon, I had seen the patterns of color. Was there a communication between Nikki and me at that time as well? Was there some sort of reincarnational link between us?
“It’s been over a half hour since I’ve been up. The compulsion to record this material and imprint it on my conscious mind is incredible. I still have chills.”
Sharing those notes with Barb the next day reminded me of the brilliant clarity of that experience, but beyond the recorded words was a depth of feeling that I found very difficult to describe. Something penetrated my being during those early morning hours in a way that I could sense but not explain. It was almost a physical realization captured within my cells, but unable to translate itself to the world. Direct contact was the one inescapable conclusion that kept filtering out of my feelings but contact with what, or whom? The geometric forms and those vibrant colors felt so alive. When they swirled towards me, I was literally engulfed by physical sensation, non-verbal communication, love and warmth.
Neither Barb nor I was able to precisely define the nature of my contact. It did seem to be a natural outgrowth of our other communication with alternate realities, however, so we left it at that. For the next couple of years, I would awaken during the night from time to time to see the now familiar visions, then drift back to sleep in the midst of a very comforting, but indistinct exchange. It tended to become a random ritual, bringing with it,each time, a very peaceful sense of ease.