Author: Denise

(Tuesday morning, September 16, 2014)  My first night back from Santa Fe I have a fleeting dream image of Sabine Lucas swimming through a great black ocean filled with all her past lives. She twists and flows with the currents like a joyful mermaid, gently touching and acknowledging each lifetime as she travels the depths.

(Saturday, September 13, 2014)  I walk out of Sabine Lucas’ adobe house in Santa Fe at about 6:30 on the evening of September 13. We have just finished my final past life session, using her strobic color light instrument called the Photron, which deepens brainwaves into theta. The lights open a view into a past life as a medicine man in the Taos Pueblo. My village has climbed a mountain to meet with the Cloud Beings. I tell Sabine about my experiences in this lifetime dreaming about the blue aliens. I start to cry. I recount the story of being injected and bruised by a needle in a visitation many years ago, and how at that time I telepathically asked them to leave me alone. Which they have done. The rest of the session helped me to understand that it is important for me to allow them back into my life, that it is not the harmful greys who visit me, and that the information the blues have is vital for the planet. Sabine said the blues visit me because that is my home planet.

As I left Sabine’s small courtyard and opened my rental car door, I looked up into the western sky to see a huge, round white light floating in the clear evening sky. I watched it for several minutes. It did not move. It was smaller than the moon but much larger than a planet. In my gut I felt it was a message from the Star Nations. I took a quick photo and drove away.

Later I explained the orb as a hot air balloon illuminated by the setting sun, still grateful for the symbolism of the Star of the Magi. When I enlarge the image in Photoshop, it is very pixelated but it seems possible that the bottom edge of the white orb could be the basket of a hot air balloon (which are usually vibrantly colored and not plain white). Today when I googled images of hot air balloons at sunset, the balloons appear black against the sky, not lit from within. However, googling for images of weather balloons provides images of white, irridescent teardrop shapes floating in the sky.

http://www.koat.com/news/scientific-balloon-floats-above-new-mexico/28050500

Click on the image below to enlarge:

(Friday, August 29, 2014)  Waxing crescent moon in Libra / nine of swords

It is the dark of night. My sister-in-law Kathy Day picks me up in a car, a full-bodied forest-green sedan from the thirties or forties. I sit in the back seat as though being chauffeured. She drives with pedal to the metal: car and driver have plenty of spunk.

We begin a steep climb that winds along the edge of a towering mountain of bare rock. I am afraid to look left into the deep, seemingly bottomless chasm. At one point the passenger door to the front seat flies open. Kathy slides over to yank it shut.

We pull off to the right side of the road. Our destination is a cavernous chamber that mirrors the dolmen/barrow from my “Sorcerer’s Apprentice” dream. The terraced entry to the dolmen is paved with tumbled and neglected white stone bricks. Weeds grow between them. A few abandoned tables, chairs and flower pots sit at the border of the patio, which overlooks the invisible valley. The exposed, hillside wall of the dolmen is built with these same white stones.

Kathy leads me inside the compound, the home of her ancestors. A distinguished elderly gentleman waits inside to greet us. I realize that Kathy is, in fact, Sabina Lucas, and the gentleman may be Carl Jung, although he is quite slender. Maybe Ernest Hartmann? They begin to affectionately converse in a German dialect I do not understand. I wonder if it is Dutch, or what my grandmother called low German. “Ich spreche nur Deutsch,” I say to them in my schoolgirl German. They both smile warmly at me and continue their animated discussion.

I look about the long, narrow room. It is a bit worn but opulent in a decidedly old European style: almost Parisian but probably Swiss. Windows are draped with voluminous clouds of fringed fabric in a rich teal-blue hue. Topaz teardrops drip from silk lampshades and the furniture is covered in scarlet velvet. I can feel the saturation of color deep in my spine.

I step into a small alcove at the right edge of the parlor. Three large bay windows surround me as I watch the dawn sky brighten and the golden sun rise. I smile happily. I sense that Dr. Jung makes note of my joy.

I turn to spy a narrow corridor behind the alcove that runs parallel to the parlor. At the halfway point this hallway is intersected by a much wider, longer corridor leading into the heart of the mountain.

I’m ready to explore this giant tunnel, the entrance of which is lined with glass cabinets and tables full of glittering knick-knacks in the shape of mythological creatures from around the world. There are no shopkeepers about. Labels and prices are stuck on the bottoms of some pieces but it seems more like a museum collection than a flea market offering.

I am mesmerized by the small sculptures, turning them about in my hands, watching light glint off their translucent surfaces. At first I assume they are inexpensive glass moldings, until Cyndi Caughron appears next to me. Cyndi is a collector: she travels to the Tucson mineral show every year. Her eyes are bright with excitement. So I realize that the little gods are crystals or gems or, in some cases, amber.

Further into the tunnel the hallway is lined with doors. My memory of the dream ends here.

Day notes:

I will be in Santa Fe in a week, meeting Dr. Lucas for my past-life intensive. She has produced a film called “Row of Tombs” about Jung and reincarnation. A dolmen is a tomb. Santa Fe is in the mountains, although the mountains in the dream are more like the Alps than the Sangre de Christo range. Hallways with doors are dreams of the Akashic, the Hall of Records.

This dream is very closely related to my “Sorcerer’s Apprentice” dream. Both contain a powerful Magus. Both dreams take place in a dolmen of white stone. In both dreams I leave my vehicle (body) to enter the magical space out of time.

My second dream of being in a moving vehicle with Sabina Lucas and working on past lives.

The dream doesn’t exactly sync with Nigel Hamilton’s 4th and 5th planes. He does distinguish between healing dreams and precognitive dreams. This dream has elements of precognition but also of going back in time.