Lucid Dream of August 24, 2021
Just inside the entrance to an airport, I’m sitting at the bottom of a double escalator (both sides going up) facing the glass doors a few feet away through which people are constantly entering, and boarding the escalators to the next level. As they walk past me, I recognize a pleasant older couple from my neighborhood and turn to wave up at them as they begin ascending, but I’m not sure if they notice me. Then suddenly my mother enters the building, and before she can step past me onto the escalator, I declare, “Mami!” surprised but happy to see her because (in waking reality) she is coming to visit me in two days. I declare, “Oh, good, you’re already here!”
Ascending the escalator together, we step onto the second floor of the airport, which is so large and atmospherically lit only a small portion of it is visible to me. It’s not in the least bit crowded, and there are several actual restaurants, with no fast food courts anywhere to be seen. Suddenly feeling very present in this place, and glad to be out of the house for a change, I say to Mami, “Let’s have some red wine.”
We enter the restaurant closest to us, which has no doors, and seat ourselves on one side of a long wooden table. Not far to my left is one end of a long bar. Then I discover the tables are communal when two dark-clad men seat themselves almost directly across from us. I don’t much like the look of them, but since they don’t speak to us, it’s possible to simply ignore them.
After a while, I suddenly become conscious of having been sitting there for a very long time, and still not a single waiter has even come near our table to take our orders. Promptly rising, I walk over to the bar, and tell the man standing behind the counter that we would really like some red wine. He says nothing, and I’m not sure now if he pours me half a glass of wine or not, I simply recall not being satisfied.
Striding around to the other end of the bar, I walk boldly into the narrow space behind it reserved for employees. Passing the bartender who wasn’t very helpful, I walk directly to another man seated at the back of the enclosure. Declaring, “I like you!” I promptly sit down on his lap.
The left side of my body resting comfortably against his chest and right shoulder, I remain happily seated on his lap for a long time, relaxed and very glad to be there. I don’t recall now what I say to him, or to the other man standing nearby (whose profile is to me) but I know I talk to them as freely as a loved and therefore trusting child. I don’t feel self-conscious about perching possessively on this man’s lap, or surprised by the fact that he allows me to remain there. He is tall and slender, his black hair is cut short, and his dark eyes are set in a rather narrow face with fine but also determinedly sharp features. He possesses a perfectly contained attractive power, yet his expression is so seriously subdued it borders on somber.
I have no thought of leaving this man’s mysteriously comforting lap, until I suddenly spot Mami walking past the bar holding a large plastic bag I somehow know contains red wine. Not seeing me, she totters sleepily toward a dark couch in a corner not far away, and spreading herself back across it promptly falls asleep. Knowing I should go and check on her so we can make it safely home together, I reluctantly get up.
It strikes me then how wonderful it had felt to sit on a man’s lap again, and to lean against his firm yet tender and unconditionally supportive chest. With this thought, I gradually start becoming lucid as I walk over to Mami. But when I see her lying with the bag held protectively against her chest, I abruptly realize I don’t have my purse and that I lost track of it a long time ago.
Immediately returning to the dark bar where I must have left it, I vaguely understand the man who wordlessly welcomed me onto his lap must have been my Angel. Even though his appearance was not that of my Angel as I normally picture him, he must have been my Angel. Thankfully, I immediately spot my purse on the bar (the exact same black purse I always use in waking life embossed on one side with an image of Saint Michael the Archangel raising his sword.) Quickly looking inside my purse, my relief vanishes as I realize my wallet is gone. But an instant later, I spot my rose-colored wallet lying on the bar only a few inches away. And when I open it, I’m amazed to see that everything is still there.
Coming to stand beside me on my left, the man on whose lap I sat let’s me know it’s time for me to leave as he says, “We have to be out of here by 11:00.”
“Yes, I’m going,” I reply, then explain, “I thought my wallet had been stolen, but somebody must have taken it out of the purse temporarily…”
Fully waking up to the fact now that I’m dreaming, I walk around the bar, and head purposefully down a broad flight of steps made of a reddish-gold wood I can clearly see because the space is now well-lit by my lucidity.
I don’t have time to worry the various landings might go on for too long before I come to another level of the “airport” almost identical to the one above it. I recognize the same large bar, and on the other side of it discover another narrow private space reserved for employees. The man I like (my Angel?!) is now sitting against a low wall to my right.
Going to stand directly before him, I gaze intently down at his face, as he in turn stares silently up into my eyes. After a few moments, I realize he is wearing a choker-style necklace composed of three or four rows of long and slender ruby-red crystals with sharp ends.
His expression almost stern as he observes me studying it, he remarks, “Don’t worry, you won’t live up to it.”
Surprised and distressed by this statement, I take a step or two to the right. Around his neck I now suddenly perceive a black leather strap, its two tapered ends overlapping in front. It resembles a dog collar designed for human beings excited by bondage and domination, as I was for a long time years ago, before the Holy Spirit entered my dreams and transformed my entire life.
Still directly facing the man I’m certain now is my Angel, and never taking my eyes off his face, I pronounce each word distinctly as I tell him, “I will (be worthy of that ruby necklace) because I don’t want God between me and anyone…” Catching my mistake, I quickly begin again, “I will, because I don’t want anyone to get between me and God.” I’m lucidly conscious that mixing words up can happen in a dream, but I also worry having done so now may indicate I’m not trying hard enough to keep other people and concerns from coming between me and God.
The original bartender I first spoke to now enters this back room, at which point I take a few steps out of it even as I remain standing where I can still clearly see my Angel. The other man, who is occupied in opening boxes, explains that another (presently invisible) worker needs to begin distributing them again. And as he pulls out the item to be so distributed, I glimpse a light-gold cover on which the words HOLY BIBLE are distinctly written in fine black print.
Relieved, I observe, “You’re handling Bibles” because I was becoming slightly suspicious worrying these dream figures were only pretending to be good Angels. Yet they really must be good because demons can’t handle Bibles; demons can’t touch anything Holy. I ask a young man who walks past me, “Do you know these men?” He replies that he doesn’t, and yet I know for a fact he is on his way to collect some of the Bibles from them. End of Dream
I believe my Angel challenged me when he said, “Don’t worry, you won’t live up to it.” That was some tough love from him! But when a child has a tantrum of self-pity, as I did before going to bed (prompted by stressful events piling up one after the other, global and personal) a loving adult must be firmly challenging for the child’s own good. The adult is my Guardian Angel, and my soul is the child.
Near the end of the dream, when I began worrying I might be in the presence of bad angels—a combination of distress at how stern my guardian was being with me, and the discernment of spirits the soul must practice during mystical experiences—I was shown the pale-gold cover of a Holy Bible, the item these men/Angels were about to begin distributing again, for they never stop serving God and helping His children!
Whenever I have a lucid dream that ends up being an important turning point in my spiritual life, Mami often shows up. The Airport setting is, of course, symbolic for Angels are constantly traveling between spiritual plains. An airport was also associated with my tantrum of helpless frustration before going to sleep, which included my anguish for the people of Afghanistan, where even American citizens were struggling to make it into the airport in order to catch life-saving planes.
The day of the night I had this dream—while looking outside and gazing down at my Angel statue from my second floor bedroom window—I prayed, I pleaded, I almost demanded my Angel be permitted to dream with me again soon. I was remembering, and putting into practice, how Jesus tells us to ask for what we want and need so that we might receive. And that night I most definitely received the gift of my Angel welcoming me onto his lap like a child! I feel comforted and at peace simply reliving the experience.
“At that time Jesus prayed this prayer: ‘O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for hiding these things from those who think themselves wise and clever, and for revealing them to the childlike. Yes, Father, it pleased you to do it this way’!”John 11:25-26
I sat in my Angel’s lap for what, in the dream, felt like a wonderfully long time. And when I woke up, the time on my phone (which I always reach for after waking from a vivid dream in order to immediately dictate it while it’s fresh in my mind) indicated I had indeed been asleep and dreaming for quite some time.
I was worried in the dream, as well as after I woke up, by my Angel’s unusually stern expression, which made me fear he might be angry with me. But after going to Mass in the morning and receiving Holy Communion, I felt much more centered and less insecure. I can believe my Angel was not so much upset with me as for me, because the evening of the night I had this dream was the first time in years I had felt so aggrieved by circumstances that I wept as if inconsolably.
Yet earlier in the day I had asked, I had begged for, even boldly demanded help, and God sent my Guardian to me. And while we were together in the dream space, my Angel let me sit on his lap for as long as I needed to.
I feel intensely grateful for having been reminded that indulging in what amounted to a self-centered tantrum before going to sleep is no way of “living up to” the spiritual treasures I aspire to, and which I believe were symbolized by the ruby collar my Angel was wearing. God is my one and only Beloved and Master forever, and what I said in the dream I mean with all my being: Never again do I want anyone (or anything) to come between me and God.
My Angel was wearing a choker composed of what an image search revealed to be long slender quartz crystals known as Candle or Artemis (Diana) crystals with sharp undamaged points resembling an arrow. A Candle Crystal is essentially an elongated Generator Crystal, in which all six crystal faces join together sharply to form the terminating apex, a near-perfect point. I have never been into crystals, but naturally I was more than curious about the ruby-red crystals around my Angel’s neck, and he in turn knew perfectly well I would investigate the shape and discover the crystal’s traditional meaning. I interpret it as being symbolic of the present state of my soul vs. the black dog collar of my past, during which I was still a slave to sex and sin.
Below is a New Age-style description of the crystals from my dream, but as I read it, I substituted “energy generation and projection” with “faith in the act of prayer” and “energy” with “Holy Spirit” and “meditation” with “prayer“:
“The Generator Quartz Crystal is the crystal for faith in the act of prayer. Their perfected geometric form allows for the focus and proper distribution of the Holy Spirit into the lives of the people working with them and receiving the healing energy. Generator Crystals are extraordinary prayer tools (that) can teach us how to concentrate and focus.”The Lemurian Rose
In my dream, the crystals were not clear but ruby-red, which detail led me to the discovery that rubies are mentioned in the Bible eight times. The following verses are ones I feel relate to my dream and “living up to” (as my Angel put it) my spiritual aspirations:
“No mention shall be made of coral or of pearls: for the price of wisdom is above rubies.”
“For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it.”
“There is gold, and a multitude of rubies: but the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel.”Job 28:18, Prov. 8:11, Prov. 20:15
Two Days after this dream, my mother arrived for a visit. She always comes bearing one or two little gifts, but on this occasion she surprised me with a treasure: Water of Lourdes in a little bottle, originally a gift to her from a friend who traveled to Lourdes years ago. My mother had used it only once before more than a decade ago, when she prayed to our Lady for help in healing her from what the doctors had warned was potentially fatal melanoma. She made a full recovery. This gift would have been special enough, but it was particularly wonderful because I received it the day after I committed myself to the following intention, and asked our Lady for help in always being faithful to it:
Emulate our Lady, and in all ways behave like her handmaiden.