Last night I had the strangest of dreams. I dreamt that someone gave me a very large book, like one of those large, old, family bibles. It was very thick and heavy. On the front cover was my name and preceding that the words ‘The life of’. Placed loosely, in envelopes at the front and back of the book were numerous photographs of me, taken throughout my life. I remember some of them – taken at primary school, and others that I did not remember or recognise. On the pages of the book, which I say were many hundreds, was the story of my life! Some of the text was read to me, by whom I do not know, but the words were spoken. Just a basic introduction about me. I recall seeing other pages, but do not recall what their content was, apart from one piece. This particular piece incorporated a ‘video’ of what was supposed to be me – ‘though much older. I thought to myself at the time ‘that can’t be me – his nose is much smaller than mine, and yes he was familiar, but I thought he must be a ‘stand-in’, a look-a-like. He spoke about things philosophically – he was well informed and very spiritual. I do not recall the exact content of his words, just the feeling that they were very profound. All through the dream I kept thinking ‘who could have commissioned this story book of my life and how could they have so many photos of me’ – many of which I had lost over the years and even more that I did not know even existed. I thought that whoever had this book produced must love or be proud of me greatly, as it must have cost a small fortune. Then, out of nowhere an impression came to me. I was shown an image of a bubble, one of those we used to make as children, blown through a ring. But the difference was that this ‘bubble’ had another bubble within it, and another and another. There were hundreds or maybe thousands of bubbles within the same bubble. Each layer of those bubble seemed to represent ‘an existence’ shall we say, of me (my soul or essence). They were all existing parallel to each other and all at the same time. It was as though I was on each layer co-existing with the rest of the other layers. Then it was ‘impressed’ upon me that when one of our existences comes to an end, that essence of that existence ‘slipped’ into the next layer and very smoothly, just as though that bubble had burst. It was instantaneous. In the next bubble (layer) I was still ‘myself’, and it was impressed into me that I may sometimes recall that ‘slip’ and memories of that existence but that the memories would be rather like
deja vu, familiar in some way. I did not get the feeling that these existences were ‘past lives’, but more one whole existence, all running together at the same time. Best way I can put it is; it is like someone reading a hundred storybooks at the same time… each book has a different amount and pages and when one book ends, the rest just carry on as they were, being read and closing when they are completed. Then I awoke. I have always believed in reincarnation of the soul, but this dream put a new angle on the theory for me. It was as if something was telling me or impressing upon me that reincarnation was not quite the way I had previously seen it; that we exist on many, many levels of existence all parallel to each other and happening simultaneously. When one bubble bursts the essence of that existence is transferred to the next bubble and the whole thing happens in what can best be described as ‘in the blink of an eye’. And it keeps going on and on until all the bubbles have burst. Like a cat with nine lives maybe. Quite a strange and profound dream, don’t you think? Was this dream the result of some undigested cheese, or the sub-
conscious product of an over active imagination - or do you think that I was privy to some deeper understanding of life and its mysteries? Maybe even Lucy was 'touching me' reaching out to give me some comfort as I slept. One thing I know for sure - it really opened my analytical mind to 'other' 'rooms' within the 'mansion' that we call our universe.
