Recurring Dream
This dream occurred several times before I turned fifty. It was exactly the same each time, and I experienced the same sensations in my body on waking.
Powerful sensations, which I could not ignore and which contributed to a chain of life-transforming, affirming actions and events. This dream, which insisted I take notice, represents the essence of this part of my memoirs. Possibly its origins are rooted well before I approached fifty. But the dream itself is pivotal.
I enter a barn-type structure: large, wooden. ‘Grange’ in French, the spaces inside these structures, voluminous and dark, are quiet and usually provide storage for anything and everything. I am excited; almost overwhelmed with a sense of anticipation at what I may find when my eyes become accustomed to the surroundings. It’s like going into a brocante and knowing that somewhere, underneath all the apparent junk, there is something amazing waiting to be found.
As my eyes move over the stacked and stored contents, I recognise what they have in common. They are ‘keyboards’, and each contains a series of keys. The series range from one to eight octaves like a full size piano keyboard. I am surprised to see that they are all made of different materials – every conceivable material. And I sit down at each to play them, one by one.
I ‘play‘ a porcelain piano, which has two or three octaves. It is like white china, and has a floral design round the edges, with borders in dark and light pinks and greens. It looks as though it is from another time, another century. I recall the touch of these cold notes/keys, as they move under my fingers emitting sounds so pure and etheric they sound like far-off tinkling bell tones from another dimension.
There is also a ‘piano’ made from bamboo, the notes or keys of its octave flat and grainy like bamboo. Light and dark, like a kind of xylophone. And there is one made of metal… keyboard made with different metals -copper, zinc’.
More than that I cannot recall.
But I do have a clear memory of how each beautiful tone sounded. I can remember how they felt to my touch and how they rang out into the darkness when I played. I played, and could play, every object in that space, listening to the most exquisite music I had ever heard. With delight and an inner knowing of how to move across their keys, my fingers ‘knew’ how to elicit these celestial tones. It was like nothing I had ever heard on this plane.
And then there was the sensation in my body on waking! It was vibrating. All the cells in my body seemed to be in resonance and charged with an indescribable energy. I could feel the energy pulsing through my hands and into my fingers. But the overwhelming feeling, which had flooded my entire being, was one of joy coupled with a deep knowing that I could access that astounding music in the unseen realms if I go within.