“He and I”

I believe this is a fine example of how it can sometimes take years for the spiritual meaning and significance of a lucid dream to reveal itself.

Recently, I came across a book entitled He and I  by Gabrielle Bossis. I had never heard of this book or the author.

Or so I thought. Then I began reading, and how Jesus spoke to Gabrielle felt so familiar to my soul – in the sense of absolutely right and true – I was compelled to find out more about the woman who had written down the Lord’s intimate communications with her. Her name rang a bell inside me, and I suddenly remembered a lucid dream I had had, years ago, the significance of which remained a mystery. I had entitled that dream Gabrielle 1873:

Excerpt from my Lucid Dream of March 8, 2013:

Almost on the ground now, I resign myself to finding a door to use the key on hoping it will lead directly to the beach, where my lucid dreaming friend James and I are trying to meet. But I’m not happy with that. I do the usual thing of trying to find a way through the buildings by climbing through a window, and looking for an exit in the direction I want to go, but I have no patience for this anymore. Exasperated, I head back outside, sensing that gravity has become more realistic and that just flying away isn’t really an option for some reason. I perch on the thick, braided dark-green “rope” of a traffic signal and walk across it like a tightrope holding on to James’ key, which transforms, shedding two smaller keys and becoming the correct shape and color but easily three times bigger than the actual waking reality key. This seems odd but somehow promising.

The traffic signal “tightrope” leads me into the thick white branches of a tree. The city feels different around me, more quaint and residential. The tree is a barrier to my desire to move on to my destination, yet its intricate, and complexly curving ascending limbs, provide an irresistible obstacle coarse. I make my way up it, and am intrigued when I perceive a white door looming just above me to the right. The door is partially covered by the roots of a tree so vast, they are all I can see of it. The roots have grown around this door, clutching it rather like a cut gem is held in a ring’s setting. It looks as if I won’t be able to open this door even if I can manage to unlock it, but I’m compelled to investigate. The keyhole is much too small for James’ large key, so I simply produce a golden key chain, from which hang a small variety of keys. I study the assortment, honing in on a slender golden key with a delicate smooth round head. I slip-thrust it into the lock, working it in, and turn it to the right. So gratifying when I feel the movement and hear the deep “click” that means I’ve succeeded.

I push open the door and look inside. Below me, as though I’m viewing it from an open upstairs foyer, I two see small gas lamps, delicate antiques, their glass tops gently beveled and a soft white, very distinct. They are part of a similarly elegant but subdued decor, clearly a woman’s house or apartment. The modest living area opens onto a kitchen, in which I can just make out a woman’s figure to the far left apparently working over the stove. As she turns and walks into the living area, she says, “Come in, dear.”

She is an older woman with white hair, a little stout, wearing a long white dress simply cut, and she is really there, not a vague Dream Figure. She feels very nice and welcoming, and I distinctly sense something important is going on here. Seriously intrigued, I ask, “Who are you?” and she replies, “Gabrielle, 1873.” 

I become aware of another woman in the room – who is also dressed entirely in white – when she comes to stand beside the older woman close to a black fireplace mantle, and they both smile up at me. I ask, “And who are you?” She doesn’t respond, so I address the white-haired woman again, “You did say 1873?” She confirms that she did while gently turning in her hands a rectangular object that appears to be part of an antique clock. Looking at the younger woman again, I say, “And I assume you are also Gabrielle?” She simply smiles up at me again without replying, and I slowly wake up.

I used a golden key to open the white door into Gabrielle’s apartment, located in a massive white tree that seemed to join heaven and earth – the Tree of Life, the Living Vine to which Jesus compared himself. I did not know it at the time, but lucid dreaming was leading me on a path in keeping with Christian mystical tradition, so that I ended up re-embracing the Catholic faith I was born to.

After I re-read my dream, I went online to learn more about Gabrielle Bossis. I came across a few forums where other Christians were asking about her and her book, wondering if her personal revelations had been approved by the Church, and if it was “safe” to read He and I. I learned the Imprimatur for her book was given by his Excellency Jean-Marie Fortier, Archbishop, Sherbrooke, Quebec. From Wikipedia: “An imprimatur (from Latin, “let it be printed”) is an official declaration from the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church that a literary or similar work is free from error in matters of Roman Catholic doctrine, and hence acceptable reading for faithful Roman Catholics.”  I was glad to hear it, but not surprised.

At first, nothing I read about Gabrielle seemed to relate to my dream except her name, until I found out she had been born in 1874, which means she was likely conceived in 1873.** This provided another tenuous link to my dream. But it was not until I saw a picture of the inside of her home, and a photo of her as a very young woman, that I began to think my dream had, indeed, foretold my discovery of He and I, and how deeply it would resonate with me.

In a photograph of her home, I saw sitting on a table, a clock nearly identical to the clock I had seen the Gabrielle of my dream holding in her hands where she stood beside a black fireplace mantle which was also in the photo. The feel, style and decoration of her home matched the one from my dream. And another photo – of Gabrielle as a very young woman dressed entirely in white – also seems to have been glimpsed beforehand by my dreaming soul.

On very rare occasions in her early life, Gabrielle had been surprised by a Mysterious Voice, which she heard and felt with awe, and sometimes anxious questionings, which she perceived to be the Voice of Christ. It was only at the age of 62, however, that this touching dialogue with the “Inner Voice” began in earnest, continuing (at least in her notes) until two weeks before her death on June 9, 1950.” From Mystics of the Catholic Church

This seemed to explain why I had seen an old woman and a very young woman standing side-by-side in my dream, and yet mysteriously known they were the same person.

I cannot, and have no desire, to prove Gabrielle Bossis truly was the Gabrielle from my lucid dream. But having learned that dreams, through the power of the Holy Spirit, can indeed offer us glimpses of the future – as well as reveal and unfold for us the deepest secrets of our hearts to help us overcome obstacles in our spiritual growth – I feel free to embrace the thought that I was blessed with this dream as Divine encouragement to trust Gabrielle’s personal revelations.++

Perhaps I had this dream because my soul’s path to God is similar to Gabrielle’s, who co-authored a book with our Lord. Years ago, in another lucid dream, I applied for the position of Secretary to the Lord, and not long afterward, I wrote Lucid Dreams and the Holy Spirit. 

** I have since learned that Gabrielle Bossis was born on February 26, 1874 which confirms she was indeed conceived in 1873.

++ Having now read nearly half the book, I can truly appreciate why my soul had this dream. Words cannot express the beauty and power of He and I and how personally and intensely I feel Christ speaking to me through it. I cannot possibly recommend it enough!

From “He and I” by Gabrielle Bossis:

Your measure will be to love Me beyond measure. I’ll pay you with love. Portion off your day in order to be more sure of offering it to Me. Offer Me this visit, that letter, this piece of work. See more of Me and less of you. Rise above these little earthly cares until you think of Me alone.”

Desire … Desire … To desire is to increase your capacity to receive … Let Me come in and take over everything. Give yourself to Me. Don’t let anything in you hinder Me from working through you. I act through those who put their entire selves at My disposal …”

“I want to heal you of your weak faith, of your life lived apart from Me rather than in Me, of your shortsighted and rare view of My actual Presence. Think, ‘My great friend. My beloved is not absent. I cannot see Him or touch Him, but He is there with His extravagance of love.’ And then you will take My love and offer it to Me as though it were your own. Do you want this? Tonight … Right away … Ceaselessly?”

“You’ll need great courage to become holy. Never lose sight of the goal: holiness; that means to be always in readiness for Me, to belong to Me utterly. It’s so very simple; believe Me. Would I ever ask anything that was too difficult for you? Just live in My love—holy, one moment at a time. Drive out all worries, all idle dreaming. Don’t complicate things. Give me your soul simply … Don’t fail to supernaturalize everything, night and day. It is My life that is living in you now, not yours. Adore. Give thanks. And when I ask you to be simple, I mean above all in your relations with Me. Don’t get the idea that I need any special words or gestures; just be yourself. Who is closer to you than God?”

“Don’t worry. Since you can’t do anything about these things, you don’t need to bother about them; they’re My concern. Just put them in My hands, and that’s all that matters. Don’t you need practice in trusting Me? You know how I love your childlike confidence in Me. These are moments to show how little you are and give Me a chance to take care of you as a husband takes care of his wife…”

“No, it’s not an illusion. You’re not in error, only in the shadow-land. Just feeling your way by faith. I planned it this way. So throw yourself into My arms. Say that you believe, that you hope, that you love, and commit your entire being to Me.”



Big Little Miracles

My soul was like a little lost ship before, but now I navigate humbly yet confidently, obediently and faithfully, by the Light of the Son. And when the wind of the Holy Spirit appears to die down, Mary – the Star of the Sea – comforts me as I stand at the foot of the cross-shaped mast flying the sail of Christianity, the Divinely drawn chart keeping me on course. Until the final day and night, when I can at last throw away my cross like an anchor in the Port of Heaven. Although I will have to go through the station of Purgatory first, I will be more than glad of it, for my exile will have ended. I only hope I can bring with me as many beautiful gifts for my Lord as possible in the form of dreams, poems and books.

I feel I am truly dancing with Reality, Who is our Lord, because every little thing happens in perfect time with my inner thoughts and outward activities in such a way that each day I know, more deeply and clearly,  God is with me at every moment as I experience His touch in subtle yet breathtakingly obvious ways. What many would dismiss as meaningless coincidences, I experience as messages from my Lord. I call them “Synchronicity Kisses.” Synchronicity: the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection. 

June 1, 2015

Listening to C.S. Lewis in the car, he had just made reference to Christ’s urging that we must become as little children again if we wish to enter the Kingdom of God, when at that very moment, a small white car veered into my lane, directly in front of me, bearing the license plate:


This was hardly the first time I had experienced a wonderful, teasing, loving hint of God’s Presence by way of bumper stickers and license plates. For a long time, I had been meaning to keep a record of them, yet had not done so (some foolish part of me thinking it was silly) but after this delightfully obvious “kiss” I finally began doing so.

Every event which might claim to be a miracle is, in the last resort, something presented to our senses, something seen, heard, touched, smelled or tasted… What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we bring to experience.  
– C.S. Lewis

September 27, 2016

South Dartmouth, Massachusetts, is not as rich in customized license plates as rural Virginia was, but to date, I have experienced two wonderful “kisses”:

On my first time driving up to Mami’s house, thinking about her, and how happy I am to be able to go and visit her as often as we please, I saw in a lane to my left the license plate:


A completely accurate expression/synthesis of my thoughts: I love Juana Rosa Pita!

And today was a big one. Driving home from Stop-n-Shop, I was imagining what I would say to my priest in my first confession here, because it became painfully clear to me yesterday that some wounded part of me suffers from a lack of faith in Love. Part of me is afraid love is a lie, and that what we idealize as love is just need, attachment, essentially a selfish thing, and therefore when someone who loves you promises you something, it is a lie, only true as long as it satisfies their needs, etc. etc. Of course, I do not BELIEVE any of this, but there is a stain on my emotional soul from the negative experiences I have had which were the result of bad choices floundering in the sea of sin, before being rescued by the fishermen who had brought the Good News I was raised to believe in but neglected to truly live by.

The principal way the devil seeks to torment and influence me is to make me doubt love, because if I doubt the reality of Love, I doubt the existence of God. The truth is, I am – like all fallen humans – guilty of being selfish, needy, etc. But I have felt, and known, since I was very young, that life is all about love. “Love, love, love, without love, where would I be?” I asked myself in a poem I wrote when I was nine years old. The answer is “Hell” into which I sink whenever I fail to trust in the Eternal Truth of Love.

So, I had just confessed all this, in a condensed form, to my priest in my head, when I stopped at a light behind a blue car with three bumper stickers arranged in the shape of a pyramid, with one on top in the center, and the other two below on each side. The one on top was composed of three words, but I could only make out the third one clearly. There was some small print on the two bottom bumper stickers impossible to read, so this is the message my physical eyes received, and which my soul “saw” completely:


  Angels       Believe

I emailed my brother and Mami these two “kisses” and they replied:

Mario: Those are great! LUVJRP is so precise as a message that would not have meant anything to other drivers! Regarding your thoughts on love, I think I understand completely what you mean, and the way I have seen it is the Platonic way that human love is a very pale, imperfect and incomplete reflection of Divine love, in the same way that a star is reflected in a pond, sometimes brightly and sometimes not at all, if the pond is wavy and muddy.

Mami: Amazing grace!

“My tender care is ever around My children. But they don’t see it. They look upon all the happy incidents in their lives as only natural and are inclined to attribute them to chance. Yet a word of happy thanks would bring Me such joy that My joy would rebound to them in new gifts. Oh, when evening falls may they think of coming to My embrace, their hearts overflowing with gratitude, asking Me to come again with new blessings. And I will come again. And in this way we shall approach the end of life and the last of My blessings. For this last blessing, My child, give Me your tender thanks now.” – Gabrielle Bossis, He & I