Part 8;
The “Grandmother” Dreams
The Adult…..Ecuador
She feels grateful for the many opportunities to be up close and personal with hummingbirds. How fortunate she feels, especially having the knowledge they are considered to be the spirit of our ancestors here in Ecuador. She has also heard that when a shaman dies, his spirit comes back as a hummingbird, so obviously these tiny bundles of energy are held with great respect. Either way, they often take her by surprise, such as these 2 visits…..
Another wonderful experience today as I worked on my hummingbird image for the Christmas month. Sitting on my step, concentrating on the task at hand, something came buzzing up to my face. Not quite registering at first, I didn’t stop what I was doing to look up. After a second or two, it clicked………something wanted my attention!
The beautiful curve billed hummingbird I noticed the other day, was hovering about 3-4” from my left cheek. It was too close for me to focus on as it continued to hover as if in suspended animation. It’s difficult to say for how long it was there, it’s like everything just went into slow motion and time was just not important. It flew into the bush across from me, and I sat there completely amazed and gratified from the experience. Looking back in my journal, I discovered it was exactly one week since the other hummingbird flew up to my face just before going in for the day. Quite extraordinary really, I feel blessed by the experience. So glad I hesitated as I made to leave, choosing instead to watch the little one who just arrived to feed. It was only seconds later, it left the flower to join me, fly in front of my face for what seemed like minutes. Seconds was more accurate, but on both these occasions, it was if time stood still, the magic of the gift offered being totally absorbed.
Considering the visions which followed each visit, it is clear to her one of the grandmothers was responsible for the hummingbird visits on these 2 occasions. Although she could not know this at the time, this was the final week of her silent isolation period. Perfectly timed of course, as only Spirit can be.
Journal Entries
July 4, 1993,
Dream with a Grandmother
I was at a meeting in an old house. It was on the top floor and there were a lot of stairs, I’m not sure if that is important or not. I could not recognize the people I was with, but in the dream I seemed to know them. We were laughing and joking around, making fun of our situation. I think we were meant to be accepting this as important, but we didn’t seem to be taking it seriously.
An Elder came into the room whose presence upon arrival settled the room down. She was obviously in charge of our meeting, but I still was not taking the situation seriously as I didn’t understand my reason for being there. I was talking and poking fun and distracting the others while she was speaking, not giving her my full attention. When she asked me a question, I responded with a flippant answer.
Suddenly, she was beside me staring at me with a ‘no more messing around’ look on her face. She said to me in a stern voice “Don’t you know who you are”? I stopped what I was doing as she now had my full attention and I looked her in the eye, became very serious, suddenly humiliated by my behaviour. Looking into her eyes, everything went still around me and I began to see a vision through her.
I was at a PowWow, a place that felt familiar as if I had been there before. I kept looking through the crowd certain that I would see myself in the crowd. Suddenly there I was with a group of native women. I was dancing with them.
I appeared to be the only white person in attendance and yet I felt as if I was one of them despite the colour of my skin. I stood out because I was dressed in a beautiful white deerskin dress decorated with amazing beadwork on the bodice, and my hair was done up as if for a special occasion (something I don’t normally do).
I was the only one wearing such a special dress. It seemed to be an indication of who I was, although waking up I did not yet understand its significance. Another detail I noticed was that my facial scar was very obvious, highlighted. Something not to be ashamed of, but to wear with pride as a warrior would a scar from a hard won battle.
I woke up feeling a sense of inner knowing and peace. This was just a beautiful moment. I felt like I belonged, was part of something important. I found it interesting that my facial scar became a focal point because I have always felt it was a scar of shame. Not until I had the dream reminding me of its birth on my face did I understand that it was indeed a battle scar of sorts . . . and meant to be respected.
When I met the Iridologist years back, he offered his knowledge to help me get rid of the scar if I desired. I thanked him but did not feel that it would be right to eliminate this reminder of my past, whether it was good or bad. Somehow it seemed important that it remained. Now I was receiving confirmation that this was true, I am meant to keep the scar to remind me of who I am.
March 28, 1997
Grandmother
It is difficult for me to describe in words the beauty of what I saw in this dream, and the gift it represented. Although I cannot say why, there were immense feelings attached to what I saw, an understanding it was not common practice to be taken here.
We met with a woman who was one of the Elders or Grandmothers from previous and future dreams I had. She met us in a place that reminded me of New Mexico or Arizona, similar to Mesa Verde: desert like, hot and dry. We were on a plateau which I could see led to the cliffs ahead. She was going to show us the fires, something she was very proud of and needed to share with me.
We came to a spot where a couple of small veins of water bubbled up out of the ground and joined a bigger stream of water pooling a bit and then trickling over the bank of the cliff. The sound of the water was so nice and I felt at peace here. It felt like home and I was falling in love with the place.
She led us down the cliff, cautioning us to be careful as it was quite steep and it was easy to lose footing. I went down carefully, getting more excited at what I might see, sensing the magic of the place. At the bottom of the cliff we had to double back to get to where she wanted us to go.
The light was quickly fading, it would be dark in a moment or two. It seemed we were perfectly timed to see the display as we came around the corner of the cliff face; I was amazed at what I was seeing.
Looking up I saw a cliff of red sandstone rock with different levels naturally layered upon one another. A fire was blazing somewhere near the center of what was actually a community. On several platforms built into the rock were hundreds of burning candles creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. I did not see any other people, but got a sense they were there. It was the most beautiful sight to behold and took my breath away. I know there are not enough words to describe how I felt.
Had I been here before? Perhaps it was from a past life? Whatever the reason for bringing me to this sacred place I knew it was an honour and I was so grateful, and still am, to have been taken there and to experience its pervasive magic.
Walkabout entries……Dates Unknown
Memories started to come as we moved from place to place trying to find enough work allowing us the opportunity to put down roots. 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. These images were 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.
– 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
– 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.
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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 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 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.
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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 I made time for the writing where possible with a few exceptions. Never anticipating the usefulness in writing a book, I did not attach much relevance to the dates as I struggled to keep the papers in order.