Dream: Shadow-Self Embracing with Jesus (Part 3: The Red-Power Tricycle)

Retro

Here is part 3 of last night’s dream. Catch up with part 1 and part 2

I ran  down the old Roman street so fast that my body began lifting off the road, and again I was flying. When I let go of the loss I felt for my life there and my husband I was sucked back into the light portal. I felt the colors cleansing me of pain left behind from Rome. I didn’t see the pain as details, but I felt it lifting. Pressure lifted from my head and limbs. I felt a sensation like being sucked through a vacuum.

And I was dropped into what looked like a shower, with blood all over the white curtains. It was my blood. I sat on the floor staring at my blood, knowing that my life was dripping from me — and flashes of people and experiences raced through my mind. My nephew came into the room to clean up some of the blood and report back to the killers, “no, she’s just faking it. she’s not really hurt.” They sent him in to clean up the mess of the stabbing — telling him that I must’ve slipped and fallen. He didn’t notice the hole in my chest. My husband appeared for a moment and he seemed to be arguing about the unfairness of how they were treating the dying me. He wanted blankets and warm water for me. I was shivering.

I had visions of ex-best-friends, ex-boyfriends and their mothers, family members and in-laws. I was drowsy. An old friend would appear in front of me, and I would ask for help only to realize they never really wanted to be my friend in the first place. An ex boyfriend’s mother appeared to help warm me up, as I was getting so cold. And, she made a remark about how happy she was that her son did not wind up with me. In an attempt to find some peace of mind before my last breath, I telepathically contacted my first-ever best friend. She told me that she had far better friends than me, and named them one by one.

I began to mentally understand the point that I was really dying and had been killed by a family member who just couldn’t accept my power anymore. I had many supernatural powers. So, I allowed my mind to take me someplace fun.

I found a red tricycle near the house of my first-ever best friend. I got on it and rode it like the wind. Yes, I had an adult body, but it was my child body that was riding the tricycle. I rode and rode laughing happily as passersby gawked at my old-fashioned Roman clothes. Some saw me as a non-sensical child, some saw me as a witch, some saw me as deranged. Two men who spent some extra time ridiculing me obviously saw me as all of these things and also very threatening. They whispered that I was very educated and powerful but that I didn’t know it. They had convinced the neighborhood that I was insane, and my little act of tricycle-riding would completely support that notion. So they laughed, and felt very accomplished.

I just kept riding, reading the minds and the intentions of everyone around me. I felt a deep scar from all of the times I tried to make these people my friends. I still didn’t understand the reasons behind their crimes toward me and a lot of me still wanted to look for those reasons. I was deeply emotionally wounded, and with each push of the pedal, I forced out the laughter that was underneath and it felt exhilarating.

Then there was Jesus. He told me with his mind that he was with me all along. “Keep riding,” he said.  I rode and rode in spiral circles of light, feeling my heart warm up with his embrace.

And, I awoke.


Dream: Shadow-Self Embracing with Jesus (Part 2: Rome, 1836)

 

Here is part 2 of last night’s dream. Follow up with part 1

I swallowed the violet light and felt it bringing me back to life. My spirit was again detached from my body, and the boys were still asleep — so I decided to see where the violet spirals would take me. At first, I began walking into the light. But, then my guide whispered — “ You can Fly.” And so I did.

I lifted my arms out like a bird and rode the spinning light waves through a long bright tunnel. Jesus was still with me, and I had so many questions for him, but it was as if he was telling me to wait until later.

Then suddenly, I fell through the tunnel onto the street. A brick-looking street. In the middle of the sunshiney day. I thought about how I had left at night, hmmmm. I was changed so much I feared looking at myself. I could tell right away that my hair was much longer and obviously matted from the trip. My shoes felt odd too.

I had an incredible urge to sing, dance and run down these gorgeous streets where men sold merchandise and food, and women walked chatting about their children. Horse-drawn carts were scattered about the way. Some filled with bread loaves or blankets, others carrying happy people. I saw a horse that I wanted to pet. A plump man with a curly grey beard shouted out about the blessedness of what he was selling. Everyone chimed along. I began to get a sense that everyone was selling something. And, everything looked tempting. There were lots of voices talking happiness and apparently also a small commotion going on in one corner of the street that seemed to upset some of the people.

I strolled down the street — my portal dissolved. (I half-wondered how I would get back to my life, but this was too great to miss). My sense of my guide was in and out, so I just had to take a risk and talk to these people.

I felt very much at home here. Elated actually. I ran first to the grey-bearded man selling bread and said “good day.” He smiled and looked as though he was going to offer me a loaf. I was kind of hyper and giddy by now. “Where are we,?” I asked. “What city are we in?” “Why, we’re in Rome. Rome. We are in Rome, lady!” A few other men next to him on the square chimed in, concerned that I didn’t know where I was. “Rome!” they said together.

I couldn’t believe it. I was in ROME! Oh wow! In my life as Gina, my guides told me we were going to Rome next. I had no idea it would be so soon. My heart filled with joy and gratitude. Oh Rome. The way it smelled so green and fresh. The sunshine, The people. The horses. The bread.

These men knew my name. And, they said it in Italian. I was slightly confused. “What does that mean?” I asked.

“Servant girl. It means servant girl.’ The plump guy told me. I looked down at my dirty legs and shoes. My beige/white dress with spots on it. I touched my matted hair. Nope, this was just from going through the portal. I am Gina, right?, I thought. The voice in my head told me I wasn’t Gina. But I blocked my name from coming, I didn’t want to  know. I wasn’t going to get stuck there.

“ I am no servant!” I assured them “ I am… I am…” I wanted to tell them how smart I am and that I can do so much more than be a servant. But, then the small commotion  of people who I noticed  in the corner glared over at me. It was me they were looking for. I was escaping. And, I ran and ran and ran down those long narrow streets until I found my husband, Doug.

“Doug, we’re in Rome,” I said. But, he was old and slow. He knew we were in Rome and this was no big deal to him. “We live here,” he said. I felt a yearning for the adventurous Doug who I know when I am Gina. This one seemed so passive. I hugged and kissed him goodbye knowing that I was going to find him on the other side of my portal, but still feeling a loss that he couldn’t come with me. Before I left, he told me what year it was. And that I was 17.

Continue with part 3