The Gauzy Veil Between the Worlds… Two Gentle Real-Life Stories that Speak to the Mystery (with no answers)
- Dreaming of Asa
Despite all my planning, there he was, bursting into the room with plenty of seven year-old exuberance. He was not where I wished him to be and it was not what Morgan wanted to see, but it happened. While I was totally focused on giving birth to my youngest son, his older brother unexpectedly came into the room at that very raw moment. While he has never communicated anything close to positive about that moment, the love and bond between these brothers has grown into a deep friendship, yet mysteriously their connection began before the younger one was born. This baby was dreamt of before his conception, and somehow his six year-old brother knew he was coming.
My dream was so vivid and felt so important that I was compelled to share it with a few people, to bear witness in an odd way. I did not attribute a meaning to it, but I was sure that I should pay attention. While this dream is over twenty-five years-old now, it remains vibrant and all the more poignant. Today I understand the meaning, and feel grateful for the experience of being called to attention.
In this dream, I am attending a party in a two-story frame house that has the feel of a house built in the early 20th century. Everything is very white and light. The party has the feel of a potluck supper among good friends or maybe a birthday party. It is family oriented and the mood is positive and happy. I feel comfortable and welcome, yet I don’t specifically recognize anyone. As I slowly wander around the house, acoustic guitar playing somewhere I cannot see, I find a young boy playing with blocks quietly by himself in a room.
I am extremely drawn to this little boy, who looks to be about four years-old. Somehow though, I know that he does not belong to me as much as some inner pull tells me he does. Its as if I had given him up for adoption and he was totally engaged and integrated with his adoptive family and had no knowledge of me. I felt a great longing in the dream; a yearning for this boy and a painful ache, a mother’s ache, knowing that best thing for him, the right thing, was to not interfere and to leave him alone. We never spoke in the dream and we never made eye contact. I can remember that sense of connection and longing today as I remember the dream to share this.
About six weeks later, my six year-old son Morgan, approached me while I was preparing some juice for him. He looked up at me and in a startlingly firm and rather intense manner he asked me, “So when are you going to have another baby again, anyway?”. This had not been a subject in the household, and Morgan was not a little caretaker nurturer type. He was so very serious about his question. After my few moments of startle, I explained to him that Mommy and Daddy were not planning to have any more babies and there was not a baby coming in our future. Another month or so later I found out that I was wrong,... oh so wrong. In prayer and meditation I had been consistently working with the theme of “Let my will surrender to Divine will”. Then, suddenly, I was unexpectedly pregnant. At first I was resistant to the thought, but soon realized how this fit into my spiritual path and settled in.
Asa was born during a summer of flooding which complicated things quite a bit. Not only did we live in a rustic cabin 100 yards from a significant river but we were planning on having a home birth in that funky place. His arrival was delayed after a first flood, when I had actually shut down my (early) labor. Forced to evacuate the cabin as the water rose, animal instinct came into play.
Eventually the weather and the river calmed down. My body was ready to move forward. Mirabai, my friend and someone comfortable with home births, was ready to come and watch over my two older children. For an array of reasons, I did not want the children present in the room when the baby was born. As it often goes in life, things did not turn out as planned and Morgan got a shock seeing his dear brother being born. While Mirabai was getting the kids juice, she came to visit with me. I happened to be nearing transition and she instinctually snuggled behind me in the bed giving me a gentle hug. Consciously I was using my breath and vocalizations in way that lifted the energy. Mirabai coached me on, “Sing it, Sister!” I remember those words so clearly. Asa, an old Hebrew name meaning “healer” came to join our family and we all rejoiced in that little river cabin. Asa grew to look just like the little boy in the dream. Here on Earth, there is no question who he’s belonged to.
Peanut butter gangstas…Asa at four with his best friend (still close today)
2. Amanda’s Gift
The small crowd that we comprised that day eventually made its way to the small extra dining room in the restaurant. This is where we would celebrate Amanda’s graduation from college. Amanda and I entered the room set aside for our large group and froze into a shocked stillness as we both drew a sharp breath. There she was. We had spoken earlier about missing her deeply on this special day and how much it would have meant to her. And there she was, on every wall of that dining room, radiating her beautiful presence. Amanda’s beloved mother, Jane, had passed away from cancer five years earlier, yet she was in that room, announcing her approval and reassuring us that she was there watching over us. How could this be?
We were not even supposed to be at this particular restaurant. We had made reservations elsewhere but changed plans that very morning to accommodate the taste preferences of some other members of our party. We had not frequented this restaurant for many years, but logistically is was a good choice so we thought “Why not?”. Now I am sure that other forces were at play. Love, reaching through the veil.
Jane was a dynamic, beautiful, strong, and loving woman as well as an exceptional mother. Her dedication and passion for her two children Amanda and Ryan was obvious to all. Education was another core passion for Jane that she expressed personally and professionally. Jane was a gifted and beloved Art teacher as well as a talented artist herself. Her father, Greg, was also a talented painter, a gift jane shared with him from an early age. Her rural Virginia home, designed with her architect husband, was accented with Jane’s beauty and love, reflected in her paintings that hung throughout the sun-lit spaces.
Twenty years or so, before Amanda’s Graduation Luncheon, Jane was commissioned to create a series of large paintings for a local real estate developer and antique car collector. She had a great experience thinking of how to present the cars in an artistic way. I remember assisting her as she made light pencil sketches on the very large canvases in her home studio space. The finished paintings are gorgeous and the client was extremely pleased. His business ventures included a hotel and restaurant. He proudly graced the walls of the main dining room with the paintings of his prized vintage cars for all to enjoy.
Over the next two decades things inevitably changed. The restaurant was sold, the new owners wanted a new look for themselves, and the paintings landed in storage for several years. When the next owners re-decorated to their liking, they hung the large paintings on every available space in a small adjacent dining room, creating quite a dramatic effect.
This was the room we entered, and where we stood motionless and for a few moments, breathless. Everywhere we looked were Jane’s paintings big, beautiful, vibrant paintings. We celebrated Amanda surrounded by Jane’s art and her timeless presence. Each glance across the table, each photograph snapped during out time there, contained a glimpse of Jane. We left the restaurant quite moved, and feeling so very grateful. We are still amazed that we were led to that modest little dining room that contained a wondrous gift for us all... especially dear Amanda.
