I am what's called a RockBot. I am part of the rock landscape in this underground cavern. There's a river that runs through this underground place. I rise up out of this big rock formation as a little, egg-shaped being. I am made of rock and I have one big eye and I can fly, although I have no wings. I rise up and as I do, I can see that these inscriptions begin to appear on several of the rock formations that come up out of the water below me now. It's as though some unseen hand is actually etching these writings as I observe them. And the etchings are golden in color as they appear and they seem to have a slight glow about them.
I look and watch this taking place before me, and I know that the writings mean something, and mean something to me. Consciously, however, I don't understand them. And I do have consciousness.
I explore my surroundings with my one eye. It's beautiful in its own way. There seems to be an architected tunnel where the river continues. The tunnel has an arched ceiling and the ceiling and the walls of the tunnel look to be made of rock, as well, but the rock is so perfectly stacked and laid, that it doesn't look like a natural phenomenon. It looks like it is built by something or someone. I hover and look how the river flows through this tunnel and I am curious. I want to follow the river.
When I kind of float and hover at the entrance, still looking down this long expanse, I prepare myself to enter through the mouth of the tunnel, and suddenly another RockBot appears before me. The other RockBot looks exactly like I do with one big eye. And we hover there looking at one another. When I move to the right, the other RockBot does the same. When I move to the left, the other RockBot does too. It's as if the other RockBot is blocking me from entering.
There's no communication between us. And I don't feel ill-intent from the other RockBot, but I am sure that the other RockBot is blocking me from going into the tunnel. And I want to enter so badly, but cannot seem to navigate around the other RockBot.
The dream ends here and I have another dream that's similar. In my second dream, I am also flying, but I am me. Although I repeated this dream to my husband, neither one of us can remember the details. All I remember is that I am flying and again, like the RockBot, I am blocked from flying where I want to fly. This is all that I can remember about the second dream.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
My Name is Barierro!
My husband and I are in a restaurant. We are seated in a booth. Absolutely nothing can be seen inside the restaurant. It is completely black. I mean black. There's no lights, no waiters, no nothing. But, seated directly across the table from us is a man who has died. He was a friend of ours. I don't know why I recognize him because he looks nothing like the person I knew in life. I said, "Bill?" He said, "Yes." And there seemed to be a spotlight on him, a spotlight coming from somewhere we couldn't identify.
In life, Bill was short and heavy set. His personality made him a real cutie pie. He was far from handsome. He was a fine, fine actor and Bill and I had been in many plays together. He was in his late 60's, I would guess when he passed away. The person sitting across the table from us was Bill but looked nothing like Bill. The New Bill is young, probably in his mid to late 30's. He's dressed in a formal black suit but it looks like something someone from Mexican descent would wear. He sat quietly, with his hands folded on top of the table in front of him. He has jet-black hair, a little longish and fashionable. He has a quiet, mysterious countenance. I ask, "How are you?" He replied, "Here, my name is Barierro! He accentuated the double R sound and sounded authentically Mexican. He looked it too.
He said something about the dates from February 3rd to February 16th but I didn't really understand what he was talking about and neither did my husband. And I saw these dates typed out in red letters either in my mind's eye or on a piece of paper. I am not sure.
We spent most of our time with him being silent and not saying much of anything. I remember wondering why all these dead people are paying me visits recently. In real life, I have talked with a couple dead people this week. It was a curious dream, and while not much happened, it was memorable.
In life, Bill was short and heavy set. His personality made him a real cutie pie. He was far from handsome. He was a fine, fine actor and Bill and I had been in many plays together. He was in his late 60's, I would guess when he passed away. The person sitting across the table from us was Bill but looked nothing like Bill. The New Bill is young, probably in his mid to late 30's. He's dressed in a formal black suit but it looks like something someone from Mexican descent would wear. He sat quietly, with his hands folded on top of the table in front of him. He has jet-black hair, a little longish and fashionable. He has a quiet, mysterious countenance. I ask, "How are you?" He replied, "Here, my name is Barierro! He accentuated the double R sound and sounded authentically Mexican. He looked it too.
He said something about the dates from February 3rd to February 16th but I didn't really understand what he was talking about and neither did my husband. And I saw these dates typed out in red letters either in my mind's eye or on a piece of paper. I am not sure.
We spent most of our time with him being silent and not saying much of anything. I remember wondering why all these dead people are paying me visits recently. In real life, I have talked with a couple dead people this week. It was a curious dream, and while not much happened, it was memorable.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Reconfiguring and Reformulating
I did a Matrix session with myself yesterday and I actually asked for something for myself. Typically, when I do a session with myself, I don't state anything specific. I just let go and work with whatever shows up. But yesterday I asked for something specific. After the session with myself, I fell asleep and had one of those deep, deep sleeps, feeling really, really heavy when I woke up. And I was really confused as to where I was and what time of day it was, too. I woke up totally thinking it was the next morning because I heard the generator come on. But, the light in the room seemed different. It took me several minutes to realize what day and time it was. But, I remembered some things from my nap.
I remembered that I wasn't alone. I remembered that I kept seeing these words on either a piece of paper or on a computer screen. I couldn't really tell but I tend to think the words were on a computer screen. These were some sort of formulas or configurations and they had to do with me. And I felt as though "others" were working to reconfigure or reformulate me in accordance to my request.
Then this morning when I woke up, again I felt this heaviness, like I had been somewhere else in the early morning hours. And like there were "others" working with me. It hit me how powerful this is.
Now, it's about Noon and I just feel so raw inside. I am extremely emotional. Even though I sort of feel like I could lash out because I feel so raw, I also recognize that I have felt like this before and this usually occurs when I am in the middle of shifting something, some unseen and unknown part of myself to a better place, a more useful place. Just a few minutes ago, I just grabbed my manager, put my arms around him, and held him close to me. I told him how much I loved him and how much I appreciate him. And I felt like my heart would break, but really, it's just my heart expanding.
Sometimes when my heart expands, I want to lash out because what I am feeling is so intense. But I know that I have this lashing out tendency only because it feels so different and that's just the label I put on it. I just know that God is not orchestrating this shift in me in order for me to lash out. He is orchestrating this shift in me to Love, to Love more, and more deeply, especially to appreciate the love in ME, the love I have for myself. I just have to step back a little and consider that this shift is to my highest good and it's always about Love in one way or another, even though it feels like something else.
And I am reminded of that story I told about this in my Veronica's Whisper series on http://veronicaswhisper.blogspot.com. I remember screaming at God, "Why do I feel so sad all the time. I can't live like this. What's this all about?" And he replied "It's love. It's love. I just make it feel like sadness to get your attention." And that experience gave me the perspective to view these shifts that feel like sadness or rawness or anger in a different way........from Love.
I remembered that I wasn't alone. I remembered that I kept seeing these words on either a piece of paper or on a computer screen. I couldn't really tell but I tend to think the words were on a computer screen. These were some sort of formulas or configurations and they had to do with me. And I felt as though "others" were working to reconfigure or reformulate me in accordance to my request.
Then this morning when I woke up, again I felt this heaviness, like I had been somewhere else in the early morning hours. And like there were "others" working with me. It hit me how powerful this is.
Now, it's about Noon and I just feel so raw inside. I am extremely emotional. Even though I sort of feel like I could lash out because I feel so raw, I also recognize that I have felt like this before and this usually occurs when I am in the middle of shifting something, some unseen and unknown part of myself to a better place, a more useful place. Just a few minutes ago, I just grabbed my manager, put my arms around him, and held him close to me. I told him how much I loved him and how much I appreciate him. And I felt like my heart would break, but really, it's just my heart expanding.
Sometimes when my heart expands, I want to lash out because what I am feeling is so intense. But I know that I have this lashing out tendency only because it feels so different and that's just the label I put on it. I just know that God is not orchestrating this shift in me in order for me to lash out. He is orchestrating this shift in me to Love, to Love more, and more deeply, especially to appreciate the love in ME, the love I have for myself. I just have to step back a little and consider that this shift is to my highest good and it's always about Love in one way or another, even though it feels like something else.
And I am reminded of that story I told about this in my Veronica's Whisper series on http://veronicaswhisper.blogspot.com. I remember screaming at God, "Why do I feel so sad all the time. I can't live like this. What's this all about?" And he replied "It's love. It's love. I just make it feel like sadness to get your attention." And that experience gave me the perspective to view these shifts that feel like sadness or rawness or anger in a different way........from Love.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
14 Jan - The White Corpse
I am in what looks like a church. There is a raised platform up front with what looks to be an altar, lecterns, communion table and candelabras. It's all white. A body of a young woman has been found murdered and she is terribly cut up and mutilated. Her nude body is up by the altar. For some reason, the only thing I am worried about is if the woman's body is going to offend me or make me sick. But, I want to go up there and look at her body.
Then this man approaches me down where the congregation sits. He is clean cut, about 40 years old, dressed in a suit, hair recently cut short. And he's real slick, like some kind of player/con man. He looks almost plastic, everything about him is just too perfect. He says to me, "If you ever want to just hang out, just as friends, here's my card." He hands me his card, and adds, "You know, hang out, just as friends."
Then these three young girls approach me (I am quite young, too) and they say to me, "We are going to the border to have some fun. Wanna come?" I know that accepting their invitation will result in trouble for me, or worse. But, it's like I cannot say no. So, I agree to go with them. Then I glance toward the altar where the white corpse of the dead girl is. And one of these girls who has just approached me is doing something to the corpse, but I cannot see what. But when the girl steps aside, the dead girl doesn't even look human. She has been put back together, all the cut marks and incisions gone. But, she now looks like some big blow-up doll. And her mouth is wide, wide open and her eyes too. It was freakish to see. She just didn't look real. She looked almost like a huge rubber doll that was inflated with too much air.
I felt so weird. I kept doing things against my will and acting in ways I would never act normally. Even when I was young, I wouldn't have found myself in this situation. Just being in this situation was weird because I don't even place myself in these situations normally. I just didn't feel like myself.
Then this man approaches me down where the congregation sits. He is clean cut, about 40 years old, dressed in a suit, hair recently cut short. And he's real slick, like some kind of player/con man. He looks almost plastic, everything about him is just too perfect. He says to me, "If you ever want to just hang out, just as friends, here's my card." He hands me his card, and adds, "You know, hang out, just as friends."
Then these three young girls approach me (I am quite young, too) and they say to me, "We are going to the border to have some fun. Wanna come?" I know that accepting their invitation will result in trouble for me, or worse. But, it's like I cannot say no. So, I agree to go with them. Then I glance toward the altar where the white corpse of the dead girl is. And one of these girls who has just approached me is doing something to the corpse, but I cannot see what. But when the girl steps aside, the dead girl doesn't even look human. She has been put back together, all the cut marks and incisions gone. But, she now looks like some big blow-up doll. And her mouth is wide, wide open and her eyes too. It was freakish to see. She just didn't look real. She looked almost like a huge rubber doll that was inflated with too much air.
I felt so weird. I kept doing things against my will and acting in ways I would never act normally. Even when I was young, I wouldn't have found myself in this situation. Just being in this situation was weird because I don't even place myself in these situations normally. I just didn't feel like myself.
13 Jan '10 - The Indian Wise Man & Shaman
The situation is this: There have been a series of murders of young women as well as some strange weather patterns in our area. My husband and I are holding a meeting about the murders in what looks like the fellowship hall of a church, in the basement. My husband, Dave, has enlisted the help of several people to come speak with us, as a neighborhood, as a community. One of the speakers is an elderly Native American Indian man. He steps up onto the stage. My husband introduces him. He stands before the small crowd. Dave asks the Indian man if he's a Shaman. The Indian man answers that he has learned all that he knows from a Native American Indian Shaman who is now in Spirit. He talks about how he used to be alone in the world, but that he was joined with a woman who later became his wife. And the Indian man introduces his wife and she steps upon the stage.
After all the speakers are finished speaking, a group of police come up to me. They show me a written statement that I had given them previously about the murders. They are challenging me and what I have written in my statement to them. I realize that they consider me a suspect in the murders. They point to my written statement and ask me about the name that I had written on my statement. The name is in bold, black letters on the paper. WOLENZE. They ask me if I wrote this name. I answered that I had. But, when they asked me about the name, I couldn't remember anything about the name. They asked me other questions and I tried to answer as truthfully as I could. They questioned me further but were finally satisfied that I had nothing to do with the murders.
Then the scene changes and Dave and I are at our hotel in Mexico. However, instead of the hotel being the coastal property that it is, it is actually located in the mountains. There have been sustained, torrential rains in our area and mudslides everywhere in our region. Rigo, our employee at the hotel, is the only one who has stayed at the hotel to help us with the mudslides and the property, in general. David, my husband, has invited the Indian man to come and speak to us about the weather patterns. He comes and David offers him a seat in a white plastic beach chair near our apartment. David and I are standing and listening to what the Indian man has to say. I notice that the Indian man's trouser leg is hiked up above his knee and that his left left leg is an artificial leg. The man begins to speak in his native language. Dave seems to understand what he's saying. I do not. When the Indian man is finished speaking, he gets up and begins to walk "home." And I suggest to Dave that we drive him. Rigo pulls our truck out of the mud and we begin to drive him up the beach road. It is raining and the road is all but washed out. I remind Dave to give the man some money for his assistance to us. He does.
As we are driving, we notice that there are all these little piles of what looks like straw arranged like a pyramid shape and tied at the top. We also notice that they are following our truck, as if there are little, short people or beings of some kind inside of them. It's unsettling to us that they are following us and hiding whenever we stop the car to observe them. We are not getting a good feeling about this situation at all. They seem like they might want to harm us. I don't know why we think this, but we do.
Now the scene changes again and I am in a car with two other young women. It's a gold colored Jeep Cherokee or something similar. The inside is a gold/tan color. I believe that I am the driver of the car, but I am not sure. We are taking the one girl home. Something happens to the girl we are taking home. She hits her head or is hit in the head with something by someone (not known to me) and all of a sudden she is slumped over on the front seat, not moving. We just don't know what happened and we were standing right there the entire time. It seems like she may be dead. The other girl and I are so fearful that we will be blamed for this accident that we just leave our friend there, slumped over the front seat. We leave her there, in the car. Later on, I couldn't believe that I had just left my friend there, not knowing whether she was alive or not. So, I returned to her house and saw the car where we left it. When I opened the passenger door, I saw that she was gone.
I begin to walk to her house which is located just a few steps from the vehicle, and the dream fades.
After all the speakers are finished speaking, a group of police come up to me. They show me a written statement that I had given them previously about the murders. They are challenging me and what I have written in my statement to them. I realize that they consider me a suspect in the murders. They point to my written statement and ask me about the name that I had written on my statement. The name is in bold, black letters on the paper. WOLENZE. They ask me if I wrote this name. I answered that I had. But, when they asked me about the name, I couldn't remember anything about the name. They asked me other questions and I tried to answer as truthfully as I could. They questioned me further but were finally satisfied that I had nothing to do with the murders.
Then the scene changes and Dave and I are at our hotel in Mexico. However, instead of the hotel being the coastal property that it is, it is actually located in the mountains. There have been sustained, torrential rains in our area and mudslides everywhere in our region. Rigo, our employee at the hotel, is the only one who has stayed at the hotel to help us with the mudslides and the property, in general. David, my husband, has invited the Indian man to come and speak to us about the weather patterns. He comes and David offers him a seat in a white plastic beach chair near our apartment. David and I are standing and listening to what the Indian man has to say. I notice that the Indian man's trouser leg is hiked up above his knee and that his left left leg is an artificial leg. The man begins to speak in his native language. Dave seems to understand what he's saying. I do not. When the Indian man is finished speaking, he gets up and begins to walk "home." And I suggest to Dave that we drive him. Rigo pulls our truck out of the mud and we begin to drive him up the beach road. It is raining and the road is all but washed out. I remind Dave to give the man some money for his assistance to us. He does.
As we are driving, we notice that there are all these little piles of what looks like straw arranged like a pyramid shape and tied at the top. We also notice that they are following our truck, as if there are little, short people or beings of some kind inside of them. It's unsettling to us that they are following us and hiding whenever we stop the car to observe them. We are not getting a good feeling about this situation at all. They seem like they might want to harm us. I don't know why we think this, but we do.
Now the scene changes again and I am in a car with two other young women. It's a gold colored Jeep Cherokee or something similar. The inside is a gold/tan color. I believe that I am the driver of the car, but I am not sure. We are taking the one girl home. Something happens to the girl we are taking home. She hits her head or is hit in the head with something by someone (not known to me) and all of a sudden she is slumped over on the front seat, not moving. We just don't know what happened and we were standing right there the entire time. It seems like she may be dead. The other girl and I are so fearful that we will be blamed for this accident that we just leave our friend there, slumped over the front seat. We leave her there, in the car. Later on, I couldn't believe that I had just left my friend there, not knowing whether she was alive or not. So, I returned to her house and saw the car where we left it. When I opened the passenger door, I saw that she was gone.
I begin to walk to her house which is located just a few steps from the vehicle, and the dream fades.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
23 Dec - The Fleeting Man
I am in a large hotel lobby. There is some sort of professional seminar going on in one of the ballrooms. The is full of people, mostly men I remember, dressed in black business suits. Everything about the situation feels professional and businesslike. I think that I am meant to go to the seminar, too, but think better of it. So, along with another woman, we find ourselves in a place that looks like New Mexico to me. We are way outside of civilization in a pass through the mountains.
We are in a valley with mountains surrounding us. There is a narrow river that runs through the pass, winding its way between the mountains. There is a brand new train track that is submerged beneath the river. And I make a comment to the woman I am with that I know this to be new. I don't know why I know this.
Then we see a young man that we recognize from previously, although I don't know what the circumstances are. He is running from something, someone. And he has taken to the mountains. We see him, quite literally, dangling on the side of the mountain. He resembles a spider monkey, long and sprawling, just dangling on the side of the mountain. We cannot imagine how he can maneuver. It doesn't seem possible that he can navigate because there is absolutely no footing. But just as it seems that he will surely fall, we see him swing himself, freeing one arm, to grab hold of a small, rocky knob of stone. And he swings from one outcropping to the next, just like a monkey would from tree to tree in the jungle. We are amazed.
The terrain is quite rough and we want to follow his movements. I suggest that we follow the river with the submerged train track as either side of the river is more cleared of rock and trees. But, my companion prefers to stay where we are, so we do.
Suddenly we are in a cafe type coffee shop and we see the same young man with a beautiful Hispanic girl, cuddling and have coffee and a muffin. We are happy to see him safe and with someone he loves and trusts. And all seems well.
Then, I am alone in a place of nothingness. And I start receiving some information about the California State Health Department. It seems as though the information has something to do with vaccines or a certificate for a vaccine. Something along those lines. I ask, "Does this have anything to do with Amber Dubois? It seemed like this information that I was getting was related somehow to Amber. ***Note: Amber Dubois is a missing child last seen walking to school in Escondido, California earlier this year when she disappeared. All of a sudden, I hear this little click in my brain, and I realize that I have been shut out or shut off from receiving more information or the answer to my question.
This is quite strange to me.
We are in a valley with mountains surrounding us. There is a narrow river that runs through the pass, winding its way between the mountains. There is a brand new train track that is submerged beneath the river. And I make a comment to the woman I am with that I know this to be new. I don't know why I know this.
Then we see a young man that we recognize from previously, although I don't know what the circumstances are. He is running from something, someone. And he has taken to the mountains. We see him, quite literally, dangling on the side of the mountain. He resembles a spider monkey, long and sprawling, just dangling on the side of the mountain. We cannot imagine how he can maneuver. It doesn't seem possible that he can navigate because there is absolutely no footing. But just as it seems that he will surely fall, we see him swing himself, freeing one arm, to grab hold of a small, rocky knob of stone. And he swings from one outcropping to the next, just like a monkey would from tree to tree in the jungle. We are amazed.
The terrain is quite rough and we want to follow his movements. I suggest that we follow the river with the submerged train track as either side of the river is more cleared of rock and trees. But, my companion prefers to stay where we are, so we do.
Suddenly we are in a cafe type coffee shop and we see the same young man with a beautiful Hispanic girl, cuddling and have coffee and a muffin. We are happy to see him safe and with someone he loves and trusts. And all seems well.
Then, I am alone in a place of nothingness. And I start receiving some information about the California State Health Department. It seems as though the information has something to do with vaccines or a certificate for a vaccine. Something along those lines. I ask, "Does this have anything to do with Amber Dubois? It seemed like this information that I was getting was related somehow to Amber. ***Note: Amber Dubois is a missing child last seen walking to school in Escondido, California earlier this year when she disappeared. All of a sudden, I hear this little click in my brain, and I realize that I have been shut out or shut off from receiving more information or the answer to my question.
This is quite strange to me.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Download Rose - Back in Mexico 10 Dec 09
Explosions – Back in Mexico 10 Dec 2009
There is a big white screen behind my mind’s eye. In the bottom left corner, there’s a little train moving along. And every now and then, one of the cars explode. This happens about four times
Download Rose – On my same screen, but in the bottom right corner, I see this other screen, like the size of an itouch phone. A dark rose colored bar appears in the top left corner of the little screen. And I realize that it’s a download just for me. **Note: I was doing Matrix in my sleep, and I just waited and this is what showed up, Download Rose.
Bring it to You – I am practicing what Dr. Garcia showed us. And something showed up quite suddenly and unexpectedly. I was “scanning” myself” and suddenly I see this pattern hanging around to my right and it likes me a lot. And I like it a lot. So I reach out and put my hand around this pattern and I bring it into myself.
There is a big white screen behind my mind’s eye. In the bottom left corner, there’s a little train moving along. And every now and then, one of the cars explode. This happens about four times
Download Rose – On my same screen, but in the bottom right corner, I see this other screen, like the size of an itouch phone. A dark rose colored bar appears in the top left corner of the little screen. And I realize that it’s a download just for me. **Note: I was doing Matrix in my sleep, and I just waited and this is what showed up, Download Rose.
Bring it to You – I am practicing what Dr. Garcia showed us. And something showed up quite suddenly and unexpectedly. I was “scanning” myself” and suddenly I see this pattern hanging around to my right and it likes me a lot. And I like it a lot. So I reach out and put my hand around this pattern and I bring it into myself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
