The Sacred Stone and a Vision
One day (about six years ago), while hiking in the Southern Appalachian Mountains, my girlfriend, Rose, brought my dog Abbie and I to visit a stone in Pisgah National Forest. However, this was no ordinary stone. It was sacred. Reportedly, the Cherokee used to sit beside it during prayer, as they awaited messages from the Great Spirit.
The hike out to the stone was beautiful. To get there, we walked a mile and a half (about 2.5 kilometres) through the open fields of what is now a campground. After walking this distance, Rose led us off the trail and into the woods. From there, we proceeded to saunter down a barely recognizable path that led us up over a hill and to a majestic waterfall.
Upon arriving at this most natural of wonders, we kneeled and bowed as great splashes of liquid freedom flowed down below. Rose then motioned to Abbie and me to follow her across a small creek that brought us directly next to this inspiring waterfall. After crossing the pool of water, we found ourselves standing not more than five feet (about 1.5 metres) away from the sacred rock.
The stone was a large, shining quartz crystal that sat nestled between two mammoth rocks that coalesced into a small, cave-like structure. Rose and I (Abbie was playing blissfully in the water) crawled into the space and we each took turns honouring and hugging the stone. It had the heartbeat of the Earth and we could feel its vibrations pulsating throughout our bodies.
Before heading back towards our car, we sat down beside it and fell into prayer. During our time with the stone, I felt profound feelings of love and the presence of Cherokee spirits all around me. Their loving energy was palpable and sparked an intuitive sense of awareness that our ancestors are alive within us all.
Later that night, I had an incredibly vivid dream, which I experienced as a vision. The dream sequence unfolded as follows:
It was a decade into the future. The infrastructure of society had collapsed. There were no jobs available and the wealthy retreated to their enclaves to weather the storm. A thick cloud of anxiety hung in the air. Everywhere, people were begging for food. Some people lay dying in the streets. The scene felt like a war zone.
What had happened? A collapse of the entire global economy had occurred, and it took most people by complete surprise. But the telling point of this dream was captured in humankind’s response to the mass suffering. Some individuals tried to alleviate the misery of others by providing water, food and shelter. Meanwhile, others plotted violent attacks against their neighbours to secure scarce resources. The latter actions were deeply troubling to me when I woke up.
In the dream, I saw Rose, Abbie and some of my closest friends and family. Together, we worked to help our brothers and sisters by setting up free vegetable stands in a nearby city.
Was this dream a possible foretelling of the post-COVID world that we now find ourselves in? If so, then is it also already written that each of us will soon be forced to make a crucial decision? That decision might centre around whether to continue down the path of ego to our destruction, or to chart our own enlightening path to spiritual salvation.
Help Your Brothers and Sisters
At the height of the pandemic, I had this following profound dream:
I was in the downtown of a major city, participating in what appeared to be a poor people’s march. There, I met two Hispanic immigrants who appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties. They were brother and sister. I recall instantly feeling drawn to their kindness, and we befriended one another.
During this peaceful march of thousands of demonstrators, the police verbally harassed us before viciously spraying us down with high-pressure water hoses and setting off flash grenades, as well as tear gas. Under attack by these oppressive men in blue, the crowd quickly dispersed, and I found myself back at my new friends’ dwelling a couple of blocks away.
When I arrived there, my heart broke at what I saw: 30 or 40 very skinny men, women and children in tattered clothes were sitting around barefoot, in a one-room shanty without running water or electricity. One of my new friends explained that this dilapidated structure was being used to shelter newly arrived immigrants who were looking for work in America. At this point in the dream, I remember being acutely aware of my own material privilege and feeling that I had to do something to alleviate their suffering.
At that moment, I decided to buy several rooms at an extended-stay motel just down the street, for this band of beautiful strangers who, in truth, had always been my brothers and sisters. I then recall feeling everyone’s overwhelming sense of gratitude fill the room like sweet ambrosia.
I sat cross-legged on the ground below, and listened as all present shared their daily struggles to feed themselves, find work and put themselves through school. The final sequence of my dream was of me realizing that I couldn’t just stand to the side and do nothing while my extended family went without.
When I awoke from the dream, I had this sudden and climatic revelation: no seeker professing to call themselves “spiritual” can sit idly by as their fellow man struggles to find clean water, healthy food and adequate shelter. This dream led me to immediately reflect on the following quote from the great and beloved Indian sage Neem Karoli Baba: “Love everyone, feed everyone, and remember God.”
A Little Boy Choking
I was 21 years old when I had a recurring dream over the course of four consecutive nights.
The dream unfolded as follows:
I was back home from school (for the holidays), visiting my family in Massachusetts. The four of us (my parents and sister and I) decided to go out to a restaurant about 15 minutes down the road. The drive to dinner took place in near-total silence.
When we arrived at the restaurant, the four of us walked into a crowded dining room and sat down at a large wooden table. Behind us was a beautiful painting of the Atlantic Ocean, from the vantage point of Cape Cod. Seated about three tables to the left of me was a family of five. The family appeared ordinary, except for the presence of a young boy. There was just something about him that caught my attention. What it was, I didn’t know at the time.
Within a minute or two of sitting down at the table, a server came over to us and asked us what we’d like to drink. We each ordered waters and one alcoholic beverage apiece. After ordering drinks, our family began to talk and unwind. However, not more than five minutes passed before the dining room suddenly erupted in chaos. All around me, I heard frightened yells and the deafening screams of a woman.
My whole family turned their heads to see the little boy (whom I’d noticed earlier) choking on his food and gasping for air. The screams I’d heard were from his mother. The little boy choked for about 30 seconds, as the boy’s father cried for help. Finally, a tall and slender middle-aged man emerged from one corner of the dining room and quickly performed the Heimlich on the choking victim. The man succeeded at the maneuver, as the little boy coughed up the piece of food and regained his breath.
At this point in the dream, the restaurant’s customers clapped and cheered. Feelings of joy swept across this room full of strangers. Strangely, I remained both seated and calm throughout the whole ordeal.
Two months later….
The dream would become reality. Every detail of it was the same, except for one: I didn’t recognize the faces of the little boy’s parents. But the dining room was the same, and the image of the little boy was a direct composite.
On the silent car ride over to the restaurant with my family, I became aware that my dream was manifesting. From that point on, the unfolding of each sequence felt very surreal. When we entered the restaurant and sat down at the same wooden table, I felt extremely anxious as I glanced over to my left and saw the little boy from my dream seated three tables away from me.
When the server came to ask us for our drinks, I contemplated telling her that the boy was about to choke on his food. However, I thought she’d think I was deranged and kick me out of the restaurant! I remained silent, but deep within, I knew what was about to happen.
Moments later, the dining room erupted into chaos, as the little boy started to choke. As in my dream, I sat perfectly still while the rest of my family stood up and gasped. My reaction was so stoic, in fact, that my parents were concerned as to why I didn’t display any emotion. Did I lack empathy, they wondered?
Years later, I would relate the event to my mother (who, by this point in time, had developed her own psychic abilities), and she didn’t act at all surprised when I described the details of my experience.
Since this dramatic event, I’ve often pondered its deeper meaning. Why was I given the ability (in this one instance) to foretell the near-tragic death of a little boy? For many years, I couldn’t comprehend the deeper meaning behind this experience. Only now, after some inner reflection, I’ve concluded that the Universe was trying to convey the message of oneness to me. IT seemed to be saying to me that although the boy appeared to be a stranger, in effect, he wasn’t. We were connected in spirit.
Another message I received from this experience was to listen to my own intuitive heart. Maybe the Universe was relaying the following to me: “See, you have the ability to tap into a level of intuitive awareness that you never knew you had. But now that you know you have it, learn to channel that ability to help others.”
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image 1: Pixabay; image 2: Pixabay