Let me begin by explaining that I am one of those people who firmly believes that death is not the end, but a passage to and a beginning of life in another dimension. I am convinced that all living beings have a soul that will live on after death and from this non-material space can send messages to the people left behind.
These communications can be transmitted in a variety of ways. For example, the one from my dad, who—on his deathbed—promised me he would let me know if there was life after death by coming back and stirring up my cats. And—oh my!—how they screeched six weeks after he died, running down the stairs with their coats so puffed out they looked about twice their normal size. I thought: ‘Thank you dad, point taken’, after which the cats (and their coats) went back to normal and a bit of my feelings of loss were healed. But that was real-life, not a dream.
In 1992, a friend died suddenly in a car-crash abroad. I felt guilty about his death because before leaving he had consulted me on whether or not he should take up a foreign job offer. He was in two minds about the decision. On one hand, he wanted to go; the job-market in his line of work was really bad at that time and this would be an opportunity for him to get a well-paid position. On the other hand, he felt obliged to stay and look after his mother; he was an only child and his father had passed just a couple of months earlier. I had told him that he should, of course, make up his own mind, but that in my opinion, accepting the job might be a boon for both his career and personal growth. So he decided to take the job, left the country, and was killed in the car-crash only a few months later.
For several reasons I didn’t attend his funeral, although I thought about him a lot throughout the day. I remember feeling very sad for his mother, who’d lost both her husband and her son within a couple of months of one another and thinking how unfair life can seem to be. That night I dreamt:
B arrives at my house, driving a bright red convertible. He’s in a great mood, says he’s come to pick me up, wanting to spend the day with me. I look at him, asking him: “You’re dead. How can you be here when you’re dead?” He answers: “But I’m not. I’m not dead. There was a mistake made with my date of birth. Look.” He shows me his passport and indeed there is an incorrect birth-date in it. So I get into the car and we drive around, having a great time together.
This dream helped me come to terms with my feelings of guilt about his death, and experience all the stages of mourning.
Although over time this existence-after-death idea became a firm conviction of mine, I seemed to be unable to tap into it when in 2012 someone very dear to me died unexpectedly—at quite a young age—of a previously undiagnosed cardiac disorder.
Looking at his seemingly unimpaired body, I went into a state of shock, being unable to cry or otherwise express my feelings. I spent three days numbly moving around, with this gaping hole in the middle of me. Clinging to every tiny shred of everyday life, I attempted to get the chores done, trying to stay on the sane side of life, while being in full shut-down mode, both emotionally and brain-wise.
While in this state, I had the following dream:
I’m standing outside my house and look up. It is sunny, the sky is a clear blue with white clouds. I notice a sheet of white Styrofoam that moves high up on the wind. The sheet floats and tumbles, rises, drops down and tumbles again. I keep looking at the movements for a long time, getting a feeling of enormous freedom and utter joy while doing so.
This dream left me with a sense of freedom, the sensation and joy of being able to move on the wind weightlessly, not being encumbered by a body or any other type of mass. While contemplating the dream, I interpreted it as seeing a soul going up to heaven, experiencing—and in this case sharing—the weightlessness, carefreeness and a sense of bliss; the dead person telling me it was okay, he was okay, he was feeling exuberant.
After this dream, I came out of shut-down, was able to cry, to feel the sadness of losing someone precious, and at the same time, realizing life doesn’t stop at death and might even be quite enjoyable once we arrive on the other side.
Nevertheless, this was a very young person dying unexpectedly. There wasn’t only sadness; of course, there was anger as well. The next night I dreamt:
I’m having a terrific row with three very haughty ladies. They have their hair piled up high on their heads and wear expensive dresses and jewelry. I find them pompous. > I feel they’ve done me a great injustice and want them to understand that. I am so angry I could ram their heads through the wall. I shout at them at the top of my voice, but they don’t react. I feel utterly frustrated about that. I then realize that what I’m doing is completely useless, they don’t show any reaction whatsoever.
I took me a while to realize that in this dream I was spending a hell of a lot of energy shouting at the Fates. Who, of course, never reacted, precisely because they were the Fates. So, I decided I’d better look up and re-read the text in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (King James’ version), which in all its wisdom did help me to make the loss more bearable.
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: > A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; > A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; > A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; > A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing. > A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; > A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; > A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.”
And what better bearer of peace than a message from beyond the veil, assuring us that this life is not all there is and there will be a time to begin anew in another dimension of our everlasting existence? ∞
