There are things we simply cannot explain. They may seem as if a dream, but we know they are unlike any dream we’ve ever had—somehow we sense they aren’t dreams at all, but something more, and what that more is, we cannot exactly fathom. As when we dream of a friend or loved one after they have died, and though we may dream of them many times, there is that one particular dream that is Different and in that difference we feel there is a message or something we should pay attention to or some, dare I say, visitation perhaps?
I wrote a few years ago about the Shadow Man who visited me. I was asleep on the couch and I awoke and there “he” was – darker than the night, a “living shadow,” a complete dark shadow man. Though I saw no features, I “knew” he watched me as I slept. One hand was draped casually on the back of the couch. I thought, “Who is this? What is this?” but I fell back into sleep again, unafraid.
A went back to the couch several nights to see if he’d return, but he did not. I at last went into in my living room, in my nightgown and slippers, my hair wild and my eyes searching, and didn’t feel silly a bit as I said, “Go home, okay?” Maybe he did.
A shadow man had come before, right after my beloved brother died, in 1994. Oh-so-briefly he was at the side of the chaise longue I’d fallen asleep on. That time I was startled and afraid and he left very quickly—perhaps it was my brother and he sensed my fear and left me. I sense someone, David?, beside me the next day of his funeral, walking with us. I know I did. Imagination? Wish?
Then came the night about a year ago where I closed my eyes and I do not know if I was awake or asleep or in that strange in-between, but I saw this incredible light, inside my head not in the room, and the light glowed like no other light, and a “doorway” appeared, and in that “doorway” I saw a shadow man. This shadow man was taller and thinner than the one at the couch. He stood in the “doorway” and behind him was that light, and I felt this incredible peace, this sense of well-being. I hate to say it, but I felt what people describe when they have a near-death experience, except of course I was not and am not dead—lawd, maybe you all can verify this for me by acknowledging my existence *laughing* lawd.
Then, a few nights after that, I saw the light again, but this time it was very brief and much more like lightening, brighter and more intense, but flashed and flashed and then was gone. My synapses run amok? I’m having strokes and don’t know it? I’m going insane? I’m just weird and that’s that and that’s that? Who knows. Perhaps my brain is in over-drive. It oft-times is, in different ways. But it peaks my curiosity.
Is all of this connected? Am I losing my mind? *laughing* I think a writer’s, or anyone else’s, imagination is a wondrous thing, and I like to think I stay in the reality of knowing some things are imagination and some things are explainable and some things unexplainable simply because I unintentionally make them more than they are, or simply because they are anomalies I cannot explain away.
What of the light? A dream? What of the shadow man watching me as I slept on the couch? Another dream? Who are these shadow men? What do they want? Or if I have conjured them, why have I? What is the purpose of it? Oh, the mysteries!
The last image I will share is one I had when my father was dying this past October, and at this time he was in a coma-state. I laid beside him many hours, but in this particular time, I had my head against his and I fell deeply asleep—we were all so exhausted—and I had this most beautiful surreal dream that was unlike any I’d had before. In this dream was a gorgeous horse and the horse galloped up up up into the blue sky. Sometimes I think the horse itself was blue, but now I have a hard time remembering that. Mostly, I remember the horse gracefully galloping into the clouds above and then I woke with an incredible peace and serenity, and a wondrous awe. I felt, well, special, for having seen this horse.
I assure you, I am perfectly sane (hahahahha –my friends and family beg to differ. Haw!) But when I write all this, it all sounds a little “out there and woo woo.” Maybe having a “creative mind” brings things both conjured and not conjured, and I accept this as theory/fact/zippity do dah zippity ay. Maybe the brain is too active on the creative/non-logical side and flips and blips and snaps—wheeeeee!
Not long ago, I watched a show on National Geographic about savants (I am not a savant, I am not saying or implying that) whose brains were affected at birth or by a trauma and the “creative side” was more alive and active than the “logical side” – the logical side was almost “dead.” These savants were Mega Ultra Creative – some no longer leading “normal” lives. I wonder, then, and it seems plausible, if some creative minds are somewhere in between, caught in some kind of synaptic wonderland that causes blips in the brain, and thus . . . well, these kinds of occurrences that seem “odd” or like dreams or imaginations come and go and we are left scratching our pea-heads about them. *shrug* beats me! *laughing*
What about you? What “strange” or surreal occurrences have you experienced that you’d like to share? If you have never had any, then what do you think about those of us who do? Be honest!