Author’s note; during the years we spent on the road was quite a facscinating experience one which I will always treasure. I had many dreams during this time in my life, but did not always write them down which is unfortunate.
Many of the dreams were like fragments, just small moments in time and it made sense to connect them together in this one story because to me they are related.
Fragments Return
This woman came to me in a few different dreams, two of which are mentioned here. I do not recall who she is or why I was brought to her, but because I was standing beside my birth mother I have to assume they were somehow related. It felt as though my mother had no choice with regards to bringing me to this woman, there was a great deal of tension and uncertainty around her. It was not a comfortable situation for me either. I did not understand why I was there, it was not a place I would have felt I belonged; cold and unforgiving.
September 22, 2002
I was in the home of a wealthy woman I dreamed of before. The foyer of the home was quite large and open, leading to a curved staircase. I remember standing at the bottom of the spiral staircase in this very expensive home. I was holding my mothers hand as we watched an older yet still very elegant woman coming down the stairs.*
I would say that she was in her 70s and in very good health, strong for her age. I was seeing what was around me through my young eyes as though I was reliving the experience She said, “So this is little Gabriel.” Somehow I knew she owned this home in New York, and another in Chicago although I can’t explain how I knew. I was brought to her for a reason but am unaware what it is. I also wonder if this was the last time I saw my real mother.
May 6, 2003
I remember this same older woman taking me to Japan to meet someone. We were sitting in a room, like a boardroom and there were several Japanese men around the table, this woman and myself. A man came into the room who was obviously the one in authority, sitting down at the head of the table opposite me.
He was angry at her I think because she seemed not to respect their traditions and was quite demanding about what she wanted from them. He gave a signal with a movement of his head and someone brought us each an object that resembled some kind of fruit or nut, but it was not explained to me, so I did not know what it was.
They were small, about the size of a child’s palm. There was a soft spot where a special fork was inserted, and surrounding that was a hard shell. It was beautiful and was like a puzzle, but no one wanted to touch theirs except for the man who was next to me (I think he was Caucasian). I looked at it and understood I had to break the shell by banging it, using the fork as a handle. The man beside me tried first and seemed to hurt his hand with the effort when the shell made contact with the table, and only a very small piece chipped off.
I didn’t understand how this could be so difficult, so I tried mine. The shell shattered instantly and I felt no pain from the effort. I was delighted with this result and was smiling until I saw the man across from me. He seemed very angry although he said nothing. Hard to understand the meaning behind this one even today.
Had it not been for this same woman being in the dream and playing such a significant role in the story I wonder if I might have simply brushed it off off as insignificant. Her presence and the intent behind her actions told me this was an important meeting we attended, a kind of test for me, one they hoped I would fail.
That was the impression I was left with at the time, even though it made no sense. Perhaps passing the test meant they had to treat me differently. Had I failed maybe I would have been allowed to just carry on with my life: no torture, no fragmenting of my mind and spirit. Passing the test put me in a position of needing to be programmed. This is just conjecture as I sit here pondering the reason for the dream. It makes more sense now as I see it from this new perspective.
Memories started to come as we moved from place to place trying to find enough work to survive, which was a constant challenge given the forces arrayed against us. They came to me in dreams and in flashes during the day, as well as during theta sleep, that moment when you are just waking but have not yet opened your eyes, and the images would come to me in black and white, with only one thing of the memory in colour.
The grandmother from these dreams came to me several times, but it is a bit strange because even though I can still see her in my mind, I can’t seem to describe her with clarity. The messages from the dreams always have spiritual meaning, so it I tend to think of her as a shaman or spirit guide. I would have to say she was native, but from where or which country I do not know. Her clothing is nondescript and she has grey hair, brown eyes and is fit for her age, which I would put at about eighty years. I would call her attractive, not many wrinkles despite her age with a very calm and peaceful aura about her. I get the feeling I would know her anywhere, but she would go unnoticed by most. Her age is always the same, or at least I never see a change in her appearance despite the span of years she visited me.
First I had a dream of being in a huge hall that looked like it belonged in ancient Egypt with very tall pillars. There was no furniture except an ornate desk where a man was sitting. Across from him was a very large mirror.
I was a baby being held by a young woman who was very nervous because her mission was to take me through that mirror. The man sitting at the desk appeared to be a record keeper, and was waiting patiently for us to go through, but she didn’t want to go and so I pushed her from behind, even though I was also the baby in her arms. I describe the object we are about to go through as a mirror because of the light reflecting from it, but I could see it was much more than that as we came closer. It began to waiver and distort with light coming from inside it somehow. We were meant to step into the light, bringing us to whatever lay on the other side. It was understandable this poor woman was hesitant, so my adult self pushed her and together we stepped through.
The dream continued but I have no idea what happened to the young woman because now I was with an old woman in a different place. Is it possible she was the young woman, but her age changed as she went through? I wondered this at times. She brought me to the house of a young couple and put me in the arms of a woman sitting in a chair in a small living room. The dream ended, but I new when I awoke I was brought to this couple for safety, but I do not understand why.
I have often wondered at the symbology of the mirror. It seemed very important to know about this ancient place and in particular this mirror through which I travelled. Years later I would meet a woman from New Zealand who suggested this was the Hall of Records and having been there I now carried the knowledge within me. As to what specific knowledge she inferred I am unclear. However, this mirror or portal seems a fitting way to travel to such an otherworldly place, if indeed it was was to another world. I have an inclination it was not, but was instead an elaborate setting in which some type of transport device was housed and actually exists here on earth.
Walkabout entries—
– I remembered seeing a woman driving to a place on a mountain which was quite barren. She was standing near the precipice of a huge gorge looking at rainforest on the other side. She was pregnant and about to have her baby. I saw this valley in more than one dream, so I have to believe the dreams are connected and this location actually exists
– Unfortunately one of those dreams did not get written down at the time it happened and it is now lost to me. Again, I have to emphasize the importance of the journals and the amount of information I have today because of them. In reference to these dreams, I write:
– There are times when the loneliness I feel, especially after one of these memories, makes me wonder if I am truly alive. I feel so hollow and empty afterward.
– I have seen a place that is a lush valley on one side with a river separating it from the other side which is desert, a place I have been at least three times in my dreams. The first time I saw this place I was an infant laying on a blanket. There was a tent nearby and in my vision was a very unusual, leafless tree, although it was not dead. The tree was large with branches big enough for two women to stand on.
The women were admiring the forest on the other side of the ravine, the height of the branches offering them a splendid view.
– We were on a cliff overlooking a river and across from us was a lush green stretch of land. It was a steep valley dividing the two places with one side being very much like a rainforest, while the side we were on was more desert like. This place really fascinated me when I woke from the dream. The tree was quite amazing and I often wondered what kind of tree it was. I did search for it but could not find anything similar enough to satisfy me.
– The second time I saw this valley, it was to show me the pregnant woman coming up the road in a vehicle I thought was a Jeep. She came to a place with a small cabin (could this be the same cabin I was brought to by her other children?) which was on the desert side of the ravine. She went inside to get another woman who at the time I thought was her mother, but now do not think this was right.
There was still so much I did not understand during this period of my life, trying to piece together the still too fragmented puzzle. When she came back out of the cabin she walked to the cliff’s edge looking towards the lush beauty of the other side, a dramatic contrast to where she was standing. I understood this was where she would give birth to me.
……………
These two dreams are connected and I had them close together. I seemed to know at the time that my mother had to deliver me in secret for reasons I did not understand. I somehow knew our relationship would have to remain secret, and this was the reason for the grandmother taking me to the young couple in the following dream.
As a baby I remember being brought by a grandmother to a young couple, I would say they were Latin American from their features, handing me into their care. They accepted me as their own.
From my loose pages written while on walkabout, I wrote this of the experience:
My mother and I were with the gypsy woman (or grandmother) who brought us to the home of this couple who would become my guardians (surrogate parents). I somehow understood after coming through the mirror we were now in South America and the time would have been late 1950s or early 1960s, although I do not know on what that assumption was based. The grandmother was making arrangements with the woman of this home to take us in and look after us. My mother would not stay with me, she had to return to her life but I would remain with this couple whom I would come to think of as family in the short time I was with them.
When the arrangements were made the grandmother took out a black stone which she placed on the forehead of each person there. I do not know what kind of stone this was or it’s purpose, but I felt energy going into my body when she held it to my forehead. This is all I remember from that dream.
This is the couple I call my surrogate parents. I always admire their courage and am grateful for the love they gave me during those first two years of my life. Without their love and great strength I would not have been able to get through so much myself, I would not have survived. It is true our first years are the most impressionable and how we are taught during that time stays with us forever. Even though the memory of them was buried for most of my life, I have carried their gracious, loving way with me through the time in between.
I remember this same grandmother taking me to a sacred cave. There were twelve grandmothers all together (I am the 13th). We went inside where there was a pool of water on the floor in the center of the cave. I was placed in the water as they formed a semi circle around me and began to chant and pray. My ears were half under water and I was warm.**
I wish I could remember more of this dream as it was such a beautiful experience. I felt bathed in the golden light of love while I was in that water. I have also wondered if that experience has gave me the strength to continue on, despite the many obstacles. These were women of the sacred circle, their knowledge passed on to me in the water of this holy place. This experience was a great gift and I recognize how very fortunate I was to be part of this sacred circle.
At one point I had several dreams about being in some kind of camp where many people were living together. The place was desert like and very dry. I was always looking through my eyes as if I was there, reliving the experience, so I am not sure of my age. I got the feeling that I was very young, under the age of five. There were men there I describe as being like officers or soldiers wearing uniforms and carrying guns, separating them from the others in the camp.
I remember being in a place that was arid, desert like. There were many people in this one area contained by a fence, so I assumed it was a camp. I saw a man arguing with one of the soldiers, he was angry and started to walk away and they shot him in the back. He fell to the ground, dying as I watched.
This was a terrible dream. I remember being affect by it for a long time. I could not understand the reason for this man’s death and I always felt I knew him personally. I often had this idea he played the guitar and have wondered from time-to-time if it was hearing his music as a child which attracts me to the flamenco music I love so much. I cannot say for sure as I don’t have a name for him, but it is a fragment securely connected to me and I think of him often.
……………..
On our walkabout our small family of three were now travelling for thirteen months when some of these dreams came to me. It was a great adventure during that time, yet it was also difficult as money was very tight, living off what we could make selling art cards or my beadwork. It was not always convenient to write down the dreams that came to me if we were needing to be off early in the morning, for example, so unfortunately some of the dreams were not recorded.
Sometimes I was writing on scraps of paper because I had filled my diary and could not justify spending money that was better used for food. I am not sure I could ever believe the journals would hold this much importance in my future, but I could not give up the practice of keeping track of my dreams, because I thought at some point my children would be interested in my life and the path I walked. So for this reason both Patrick and I made time for the writing no matter where we were, with the exception of these few times. I felt their interest would not awaken until after I had passed on as they seemed not to care. So from that perspective I did not attach much relevance to the dates as I struggled to keep the papers in order.
*see Going Home, Chapter VIII, page 245
**see The Thirteenth Healer, Chapter IV, page 141
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