Dreams in which I am visited by loved ones who have passed on, or beings that seem to be from a higher plane, always seem to be accompanied by music.
My Korean grandfather visited me in a dream that was accompanied by beautiful Asian-sounding music; I was too young to know him before he passed away. In the dream, we were gathered in the lower floor of a home because my grandfather was ill, and there were robed Buddhist monks floating in and out of the house through the walls. I went up to pay him my last respects and he spoke to me, saying that he was so proud of me and that he thought I would have been happy if I had grown up in Korea. He expressed some regret that he hadn't known me better. I scoffed at that, saying that we lived in different countries, so who was to blame? He said "But I was so stubborn in life, in so many ways... things could have been different." He said that he had so many things that he would have loved to have taught me. It was a very lucid, loving conversation and the only strange remark was when he was tracing a mountain pattern in the fog of a mirror and relating it to life and saying something about how he'd be able to teach me again in a 1,000 years. A little too abstract for me to follow! I woke up hearing the music fading away in my ears, my pillow soaked with tears. It was a powerful dream and the conversation just too lucid for me to dismiss it just as a dream.
My wonderful bodhisattva / muse friend Sheri* who passed away in '01 (Mitakuye oyasin my sister!) visited me in a dream where she split the sky open and it was filled with thousands of angels on different levels of Creation and she conducted them in a heavenly chorus.
Recently I had an odd dream that seemed a visit from a sagely type of fellow... I dreamed I was standing in line at the bottom of a mountain, waiting to consult with some kind of guru. The attendant was advising us to let our "light shine as brightly as possible in the darkness" to show the guru, and when I asked what was going to happen when I went up the mountain, he simply advised me to observe and learn. So I was led up the mountain trail and rather than meet someone, me and the other people were led into a cage that was being carried off by these hideous monsters. The attendant was with us and I asked him what we were supposed to do; was this part of a lesson? He again advised me to simply watch and learn and that all would be clear. Well, I was highly unnerved by the idea of us being carted off to some possibly horrible fate, and all I had on me was a pocket knife, so I said to the guy "Well I'm not about to sit around and wait" and I started cutting away at guide lines, and even attacking the monsters, having to even bury the pocket knife in the eye of one of the creatures having no better weapon at hand. This seemed to mobilize the others and we were able to stop the cage and free ourselves from the mess.
Then the guru guy appeared, he was a very Merlin-esque type of character, an old man with a beard and a gleeful manner. It turns out that the cage bit had been a test... He explained that when most people read about heroes, it just seemed to be a very pre-destined, clearly laid out path... myths, legends, stories. But real heroes didn't know what they were doing anymore than a confused girl with a pocketknife; I had just known something was wrong and though I didn't know what to do, I wasn't about to sit around and watch us all go off to be slaughtered. (Okay, it's a dream, but... you don't know that when you're dreaming!) He made a joke about how not every hero had their Excalibur, re: the pocketknife. I had thought that "showing my inner light" just meant walking up the path and shining out my aura as loudly as I could to keep away the darkness... turns out to be something else entirely. We spoke about the dangers of inactivity and being lax and assuming that lessons would simply come our way from watching them happen, rather than experiencing them. The point he really seemed to be wanting to drive home was that heroes were made, not born, and that heroic actions could come from a scared person with only the tools at hand, not this mythologized knight with a big shiny sword.
The funny part is that he started chatting about the area of interest he had been following lately in that "Oh you earth people are so fascinating!" way was the study of music before it was understood from a technical standpoint (e.g., scales, rhythm, notes) and he unrolled a scrolls that had these squiggly curvy lines and began singing examples of this music for me in his old, quavery voice, and I could innately "read/hear" the information on the scroll. This kind of thing makes this kind of dream seem to loom larger than a mere dream character construct... my dream characters don't seem to have a passion for Pre-Colombian music. LOL.
And of course, pervading the dream was a beautiful musical score... always these dreams have such beautiful music they make me weep as I wake up, because I'm loathe to leave them.
Music in dreams always seems to herald an important visitor to me.
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks