The Dream Journals continued.

21st April, 2016.

We had an amazing day. The weather crapped out and we decided to stay indoors. Mist surrounded the little chalet overlooking the Lake as rain fell steadily on the surface of the water. Will and I made love in the morning, then after lunch we fell asleep, woke and…..made love again…the sense of connection was beyond the physical, lost in it all, Time vanished until we realised we had not had anything to eat and it was well after 6pm! Famished we ordered home delivered pizza. The deliver guy had a mission finding our chalet! Eventually he got there, so apologetic he offered us a free pizza voucher! 

In last nights dreams again I saw the stairs, and couldn’t wait to run up them and into  The Attic, I am so excited! I love what happens here in these dreams!

I manage to pull myself up before rushing through the door. Breathe Molly, just breathe…

Opening the door, I find myself hovering over the ground, the scene before me is of the landscape unfolding below my feet, like I am suspended in the atmosphere looking down at the surface of the earth. I smile as I feel Will by my side. I can hear music playing in The Attic – is an old song form the 60’s, The Carpenters song “I’m on the top of the world, looking down on Creation and the only explanation I can find. Is the love that I’ve found ever since you’ve been around, its gonna put me at the top of the world…..”

I look at Will and ask, ”Ready to fly?” I take his hand and we fall forward, the feeling of liberty is exhilarating, the up rush of thermal winds supporting us. Isn’t imagination wonderful? The world is at our feet, the wind beneath our wings, we are able to fly in a different kind of way, – free of the physical side effects of travelling in an aeroplane, flying in Spirit is easy – go anywhere, any time, however, whenever….the only limits are those of the mind. It is blissful, free, easy and no one else has a say in it.

I have my angel by my side, together we leap into the unknown. But is it? Is it the unknown, or are we simply, just catching up with what we have already experienced in the past?

The Allowing. In a whole new way of being, I have just had a huge realisation – immensely so – we are simply catching up with the desires of our hearts and soul, of dreams already dreamt. Oh my! I get it!

Wow – I really get it!

Now I can truly relax into this. The Allowing, the physical catch up of what dreams may come! With a shift in energy, I can feel my awareness returning to the familiar scene of The Attic. There are three winged arm chairs by the fire, and three cups of steaming tea on the table, waiting. I still have Will’s hand in mine as we sit side by side. Grace is sitting casually sideways in the other chair, Will and I warming our bodies by the fire after the chill of flying. Grace smiles at our realisation, dreamily stirring the honey in her tea, one foot lazily swinging on her crossed legs hooked over the arm of the chair.

We all sit in awe of this impressive moment, staring into the dancing flames of the eternal fire of inspiration….

It is as it is, and it is good! Life is incredibly good!

24th April, 2016.

Drifting in and out of sleep is both delicious and frustrating. One part of me craves to fall into a deep sleep but always seems just on the edge of this, and the other part loves the drifting. It is full moon and She is beckoning me to stay awake, teasing me through the slats of the venetian blinds…

Will is also feeling the effects of this. I can hear him in the kitchen making tea, the aroma of Vegemite toast, our favourite ‘middle of the night’ snack is comforting. It is 2am and I sense something different tonight. Feeling unsettled, instead of trying to go to sleep, I am answering the call to write. What I experience is something quite different. This time as I started to write, I had a waking vision of walking up the stairs to The Attic, somewhat sleepy still, feet heavy, feeling the tug between staying awake and falling into this new experience. My fingers keep typing as I write down what I am envisioning.  I pause before opening the door into The Attic. I can feel a shift in the energy within me and being here in this magical space of what I usually experienced in the Dreamtime. There is no difference, it feels the same! Am I surprised? Yes…and no. Hmm! It is quite a weird sensation, of seeing this place which I had been accessing through my dreams now coming to me through writing. And I am awake! I resist the urge to analyse this, and stay focussed on what I am experiencing in a whole new way. 

Opening the door I find myself standing on the edge of a field that is flooded with iridescent moonlight, the long grass moving in the gentle breeze like a bed of seaweed beneath the ocean, it is hypnotic. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the light, I can see Grace waving to me across the field by the silhouette of a large tree, the moon glowing behind it. Walking through the tall grass, the palms of my hands brush across the tops, tickled by the seed heads. The surreal landscape is intoxicating. I feel like I am gliding effortlessly. In the hushed silence of the night my hearing adjusts to the quiet sounds of small creatures scampering ahead of me, disturbed by my presence. Rabbits, hedgehogs, field mice…

As I approach Grace I can see more clearly. The leaves on the trees sparkle in the moonlight like a thousand fairy lights. Beneath its huge umbrella of entwining branches and leaves, is a table and a couple of deck chairs, and of course, a pot of hot tea and two tea cups. Draped over the chairs are some soft furry blankets. Grace beckons me to sit down and wrap myself up, then passes me a warm cup of tea, and I realise just how cool the night has become. The air is fragrant with a fresh hint of blossoms, mmm…night jasmine. Silently we both sit gazing out across the field, sipping tea. The tall grasses twitch and sway with the moving traffic of the small night creatures. What a magical place to be in. Oh the precious delights of the middle of the night!  I feel a tickling of my toes, hanging over the edge of the deck chair, and I resist moving them as I see two large eyes looking up at me. An inspection. Sniff, sniff, sniff and the warm wetness of a small tongue tasting my toes, its curiosity getting the better of it. Feeling like Alice In Wonderland, I find myself shrinking (what was in that cup of tea Grace? She smiles and nods at me, knowingly), my now tiny legs swinging over the edge of the deck chair. I jump down into now appears as the tall forest of long, seeded grass, and a hedgehog beckons me to follow. Weaving our way through the stalks, I am not able to see very far ahead and trust in where this creature is leading me. Slowly we meander our way across the field, hedgehogs are never in a rush and I patiently follow on behind. 

On the edge of the field, there is a clearing, well lit by the moonlight and I can see a gathering of animals. Their whispering is silenced as we approach. They have formed a circle around something that I could not quite see in the sepia light of the moon. Hedgehog leading the way, the animals part the circle to reveal a large grey tabby cat standing in the middle. “Oscar!! Oh Oscar, how good it is to see you!” I call out in surprise. He looks disinterestedly over his shoulder with a pretence of “do I know you?” Smug cat! I rush up to him and throw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his soft warm coat, his smell so familiar. Tears stream down my face, I whisper “Oh I did not realise just how much I have missed you, my sunrise buddy. It feels like it has been a lifetime since I saw you last.” He wraps his tail around me and purrs loudly, dropping his guard and softening into a cuddle. Oscar and I had had many chats before I moved in with Will into our new home. He knew what his job was and why I was leaving, and that it was Time for him to move on too. But just how good is it to be seeing him now. He reminds me that I can visit him anytime, all I need to do is meditate with him in mind. We shared many early mornings, even the frosty ones in the middle of winter. At sunrise he would leave the warmth of our bed and join me with a hot cup of tea outside wrapped up in a blanket, watching the display of colours performed by the changing light of the day dawning. Those days were special. Some days he would snuggle up on my lap and others he would jump over the fence for adventures of his own. I closed my eyes and buried my face into his fur breathing in his clean cat smell, feeling his heart beat beneath the steady rhythm of his purrs, I feel myself getting sleepy, drifting….

I woke with start, my face snuggled into a warm blanket. Where am I? I look around for something familiar. I am sitting on a folding deck chair under the tree with Grace. Mixed emotions, incredibly excited to have seen Oscar and a little sadness that he was not able to join me on this part of my journey. He has an important job to do and is doing it well. It is bliss here under the tree with Grace, soaking up the middle of the night moonlight. I can feel my eyes heavy with sleep now and I curl up under the blanket in the deck chair. Grace looks on with a smile on her face. She knows how much it meant for me to see Oscar again.

“Molly….Hun? Do you want the tea and toast?” I hear a voice coming from a long way away. It is Will, well practised in gently getting my attention when I fall into these meditative states. My head had fallen forward uncomfortably and the ache in my neck brings my awareness back to my physical body. Here I am now, sitting at my laptop at the kitchen table in the chalet. Will had made tea and toast, both of which had gone cold. I look up at Will with tears in my eyes, “Oh Will! You’ll never guess what I have just seen!” 

28th April, 2016.

This is the last day of our Honeymoon holiday, tomorrow we drive back to Paraparaumu, and into the next chapter of our lives as Mr & Mrs Ferguson.

Tonight I am feeling restless. Unable to get to sleep, despite Will’s effortless snoring, I have decided to get up and write, curious if I am able to experience the same thing as the other night. Now sitting at the small table in the chalet, a large window before me, my laptop open in front of me, I feel a resistance to even doing this. All day I had felt this restlessness. I have busied myself with so many distractions. And yet another part of me is screaming from the inside to just sit and write. I love this other world I have discovered when I do write.

Staring at the keyboard I ask myself, ‘So where do I start?’ 

I am sitting in a sweet little chalet on a beautiful property on the edge of Lake Taupo, North Island New Zealand. Before me is a huge glass door and balcony overlooking The Lake. It is raining outside, a good soaking rain and The Lake is cloaked in low lying cloud, providing a dull light.

The night air is windless outside and the rain is falling with a gentleness. The Lake’s surface is dimpled, the mirror image shattered by the millions of rain drops dancing on the surface. However, watching this stillness I want to drink in…breathe it in, to feel it in every cell of my being. Yes it will be nice to go for a walk through the bush and down to The Lake in the morning, once more before we head home.

Staring out the window, I have flashes of childhood memories, from reading Enid Blyton books, where the seed was planted to be an author, to write fantasy books. Fantasy! Hmph! The very word has a complete new meaning for me. Closing my eyes, I smile as the vivid memories of my childhood treehouse come back to me. My fingers find the keyboard and I begin to touch type, putting into words the vision which comes to me now, of the stairs leading up to The Attic. What is this? And then I remember I need to stay focussed on writing and allow my fingers record what my imagination is seeing. Imagination? Is it?

Inside the door, I am confronted by a frumpy, grumpy troll-like creature sitting on top of an oversized book on the table in The Attic. It is looking at me through heavy eyebrows, sneering.

“Gra-a-a-ce!!” I yell at the top of my voice. “Need your help now!”

 No sooner have I thought this and she is by my side.

“Well, what an intriguing creature this is Miss Molly, or should I call you Mrs Ferguson now – where did you find this one?”

“I was daydreaming about writing a novel, and this is what appeared”.

“Hmm….” Grace leant forward to poke it and it hissed at her. She leapt back to a safer distance. “Oooo, sassy little fellow.”

“Does it speak?”

“Of course it speaks!” it hisses at us. “What is it that you want to know?”

“Why are you here and what is this book about?”

“Someone has to keep it safe for you. I have been the Keeper of the Book, from when you first thought of writing one. Not just this book, but all of the books from your childhood. Do you not remember that this was your first desire of what you wanted to be as a grown up – an author? This book Molly I have been keeping safe for you in Spirit until you were ready to write it.

He leans forward and touches me on my third eye. Instantly I can see myself through the eyes of my childhood, sitting in bed reading, surrounded by Enid Blyton books and books about horse stories. There it was, the first thought of writing a book. What stopped me from following through? Why did I only see this as a dream and not be able to bring it into the physical sooner?

“What does it matter now?” Grace interrupted my thoughts, bring me back to the present moment. Adjusting my thoughts, I ask myself this question out loud “What does it matter Now? How do I feel about this… Now?” 

I pause from my writing and look out over The Lake, seeing if I can find the answer out there, but knowing that it is hiding within me. Writing is not about creating something for others. This is about creating something for me. And it will be a legacy, a little of me in the physical world that will remain after I too move on into Spirit. I want to be able to share with others the experiences I have been having in The Attic.

For years I have been doing readings with Grace, consciously and unconsciously and when I asked myself the other week, what is it about doing readings that I enjoy? It is working with Grace, playing with Grace, being with Grace and communicating with Spirit. Do I need to do readings to be able to experience this? No. I experience it most moments in the day, although the physical world and its requirements do distract me from this, water down the way I feel when I am consciously being with Grace. I am adjusting to this, getting used to being in that higher vibrational state of being and doing what I need to do in the physical world. I want to write these books! I can feel them now! Wow, writing. I do love to write. 

I sit down at the table for a moment, wanting to take this in. I feel like I have been released from a  long held slingshot. My life has slipped into another dimension through a crack in the Universe. I am moved to tears yet again,  immense appreciation makes my heart overflow into tears of joy. Get this a lot lately. What an amazing experience to be able to feel this and not have to switch it off. I pull my knees up to my chest and gently rock, it helps me feel more at ease with this energy which I am still getting used to. I feel like there are masses of electrical currents flowing through my body, I feel so switched on.  I leap up and dance around, trying to do something with this increasing energy. Then I stop and look around the room, at this magical place I can visit. What is this? And Who is Grace, really? I see Grace sitting in her favourite position, legs swinging over the arm of the chair, the crackling fire is warm and comforting, and there is a pot of tea on the sea chest between the two winged armchairs, something that is becoming a bit of a ritual. I take in the details of this room, of the brightly coloured patchwork fabric which covers winged arm chairs, the fireplace, the large window overlooking the flower gardens below, framed by heavy red velvet drapes, the antique desk with a Bentwood chair either side of it. Wooden floorboards worn with the years of foot traffic, bright colourful throw rugs on the floor. The timber walls painted a warm cream colour and the skirting boards of raw timber, oiled and waxed, lighter in colour than the floorboards.

I walk across the room and sit quietly in the opposite chair and pour myself some tea. “Oh hello, you’ve arrived”

“What are we up to today Grace?”

“Weellll,” she drawls as she leans forward towards me. Quietly she whispers, “if you care to look over at the desk, you will see the laptop is waiting for you.” She picks up her cup of tea and turns to stare out of the window, now ignoring me. I pick up my cup of tea and sit myself over at the table in front of the laptop.

The vision fades and I look down to see what I have written, unaware of what my fingers have been doing. Saving my work, I stare out the window, deep in thought, wondering what is happening to me. What is all of this? A result of the when I fell off the horse? What really happened when I was unconscious? Gradually memories were coming to the foreground as feelings of deja vu. How does Will fit into all of this? And who really is Grace?

* * * *

On the last day of their Honeymoon, after an early morning walk down by the Lake’s shoreline and a quick breakfast, they packed the car and began the last stretch of road towards home. Both of them were happy to sit in silence, not needing to fill the space with conversation and enjoy the drive. The scenery in this part of the country, particularly The Desert Road, is beautiful. Molly enjoyed the focus of driving, not even thinking about any of the experiences of the past two weeks. Will broke the silence, he told her how he wanted to know more about what they had named ‘The Dreamtime’. He had done a little research online and had found information about the Aboriginal Dreamtime and how it had similar reference to what they were experiencing. That there was no difference between what is experienced when you are asleep or awake, it is all the same. That everything happens in the Spirit World first before percolating down into the heavier vibration of the physical world, of what most call Life. He had seen a vision of a multi-story building where there were many varied businesses going about their day. All in the one location, all within the same time frame, and yet doing something completely different. One floor of the building overlapping another, just like the Spirit World and the Physical World, co-existing. This made sense to him and he shared this with Molly as she drove.

“Honey, do you think we are the only ones experiencing this perception of our lives? Or are there others? It would be cool to meet others who are having similar encounters,” he asked.

Molly thought about this for a moment, feeling a hesitation of talking about this to strangers. “I do have Nanny, Dr Sarah and Annabelle to discuss this with, but yeah, I guess it would be cool to meet new people who might understand this as we do. You know, everyday kinda people” Molly replied, her hesitancy obvious to Will.

“No rush,” Will replied. “Let’s just see what happens. Only if it feels good and only for our best eh!” He placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed it reassuringly.  Both of them felt the shift within themselves and within their relationship, a closeness that defied an explanation in words. They both knew that the past couple of weeks had changed their perception of Life and there was an excited anticipation of what seemed to be unfolding for them. Molly was excited about writing, in particular, using this meditation/visualisation technique as a channel for the stories from this dream space she now called ‘The Attic’…   

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