posted December 19, 2014 05:31 AM            

I was a runaway on the streets when my best friend whom I'd ran away with died (I don't want to talk about that), and I felt intense survivor's guilt. I decided that I should die to be with her still as this world held little for me anymore and I was sick of it and as I ran away from home with her I'd depart this life with her. But as I was about to commit suicide (had plenty to do it with all around me) a guy who had been watching me closely tackled me and held me down as I basically seemed to cry myself to sleep.

But it was too surreal to describe very well. Next thing I know I felt as if I'd woken up from a bad dream that I could barely remember (I didn't remember that my friend died or even my own name) to find myself flying in a virgin forest of giant trees and there was wordless song all around me (all beautiful like the woods when I was on shrooms, though this was far more beautiful), and I realized I was singing myself as well, a very sad song. Then ahead I saw a tree bigger than any I'd ever seen before, one that disappeared into the sky, and as I came into contact with it I suddenly cried out, "Yggdrasil!"

x

Note: I knew very little of Scandinavian mythology, and though I probably absorbed a little from the scifi/fantasy books I read growing up the only academic work was a chapter that I was made to read in 6th grade (so very brief). But I do recall the teacher saying it was an incomprehensible belief that one should live right only to die at Ragnarok and he was confused by my saying it made sense to me because better to die who you are than live as you are not, and you don't really know who you are and what you believe until you stand to lose everything, otherwise you were just doing whatever you were told hoping to be taken care of (that was the gist of it)...yes, I know it's precocious and it's an example of why teachers preferred I stayed silent in class. He was speechless by what I said and said something about religion being comforting rather than grim, and I think he hinted I must have issues to say what I did.

But the important part here is that I've only read of Yggdrasil once from a chapter that essentially gave a scream sheet knowledge on Scandinavian myths, though possibly it was mentioned in some short fantasy story I read somewhere as well. In any case it's surprising that the word would come from me then, and I didn't even think of the word until I touched the tree and then it burst out of me. It was the only spoken word in the entire experience.

x

So back to my experience. As I spoke the word I felt as if I woke up yet again, filled with intense energy, and there were many things I can't describe because I don't have words for them. Some asked me to attempt to describe it and the best I can say is that the music or wordless songs all around me were giving form to people and events in the physical world that was invisible to me from this realm (just as what I was experiencing in this realm was invisible to me when I was in the material world), and that many of the things I visually saw in this realm were normally invisible to me when I'm in my normal state of mind in the physical world and I only recognized them at some intuitive level as I did the wordless songs. And it was also very non-Euclidean.

In the "center" (perhaps best to say what commanded my attention and the Song that had brought me here) was a Goddess, ineffable, beautiful, and more intuitively felt (yet more real than anything I ever experienced) who Sang, and I sang back, and communication happened without words (very much like when I communed with the shrooms). Essentially I was "told" that She had Sung me into existence and I must not break, I must instead allow myself to be tempered and grow up, that I was not to be like others who sought to be eternal children to their gods forever seeking to crawl back into the womb that spat them out, instead I must let Her song carry me until I was complete, my own song just as beautiful and strong as the one that birthed my very soul, and worthy of standing by Her side against the giants of Ragnarok.

Another part hard to explain is I felt that if I did break she'd just Sing another Song, yet at the same time I felt Loved, Her child (but not one to remain a child forever praying to her for favors and protection, instead I was to answer my own prayers, including for protection and strength), and it was an ineffable, poignant, beautiful, mysterious moment. She was a goddess, and yet She was pouring Herself into Me and I was one of Her Songs which filled me with awe, reverence, and a powerful will to live, to not silence Her Song.

And then I woke up in this world utterly exhausted (and fell into a normal sleep not long after), but no longer suicidal. I grieved for my lost friend (did for years off and on) but I knew I had to carry on, I couldn't let it break me.

And it changed my attitude completely, summed up as I went from being someone who was a leaf blown in the wind to someone carving my own path (and it was a shock to some people). Until then I had felt almost helplessness as my life was shaped by capricious adults, an abusive teen gulag, an alienating school, a court that cared nothing for me in the divorce proceedings of my parents, but now I knew I shaped my own destiny, not them, and THAT is what changed my attitude completely. I was Freya's song and I would not let them silence Her. I've been told that the next few years of my life after that were sometimes epic, a survivor's tale that I should write a novel about. And maybe I will (though I prefer my scifi, but I do incorporate my experiences into them).

And I immediately (as soon as I was able) went to the public library to look up info on Scandinavian mythology, particularly in regards to Freya, and though I didn't find much everything felt so right, and I'd get more confirmation that I'd touched something real later.

To this day I wonder if the "giants of Ragnarok" was a metaphor for the adults in my own life who were destroying my world (and just killed my best friend), a growing process of becoming my own person able to stand on my own feet (lest I be crushed under the foot of someone else), or if there's something literal (perhaps other "Songs" that may manifest in all sorts of ways, including Ragnarok), something still coming...'course it could be all apply and more. But in any case, Freya was exactly who I needed at that moment and perhaps that was reason enough.

posted December 19, 2014 05:56 AM            

One particularly example was it placed me in a United States that was commanded by Communism that matched the worst Cold War nightmares of it...and then after awhile it decided to see how it would be different that put me in a right wing nightmare of the United States (like the Republic of Gilead from the Handmaiden's Tale, if you don't know about that then saying "Iran with a Christian paint job" is close enough and the government was still after me, this time to execute me as the Bible commands for "gender treachery" of lesbian acts) and otherwise was "reset." Frankly, even in the dream I was annoyed by this.

Here's a detailed example that I recorded in a dream journal Feb 3, 2004 (though this one features my real Dad, it also gave me a "little brother" when I'm actually an only child, though he's also appeared in other dreams sometimes as a little brother and other times as my son):

quote:

---

I was 12 and with my dad in the store. I was pretty much into the head space I was in at 12, too. I wanted--needed--things and my dad would gripe and complain. This included my suggesting we get more and better food. This made me feel bad, but I was equally mad at how he would get a case of beer (half a case if strapped--but that was usually at another store in which he got nothing except alcohol and tobacco), as if THAT were important. But I didn't have the words back then, and besides, I was a bit scared of my dad.

In the dream, I felt something from him that I never sensed in him in real life--guilt, sorrow, self-loathing and anger. I sensed anger in him in real life, but in the dream, he seemed more angry at himself than everyone and everything else around him. A cop followed us around, seeming to ignore me, and made loud condemnations of his choices, of his life, etc. Apparently, only he could see and hear this cop, though I could in the dream.

We came to a box barrel display. Inside were a bunch of rings, but we could only take one. A woman's voice, feeling VERY daimonic (that is, unknown and not-human), said we could both take a ring and make ONE wish. Showing my more mature sensibilities all of a sudden, I asked, "What's the price?" No answer. I was tempted, but scared. I told him not to do it and reminded him that there's always a catch. He agreed and we left.

The cop followed us all the way to the register, and then just wasn't there anymore. Dad got into an argument with the cashier over something, but I don't recall exactly what. I think it had something to do with returning or replacing something.

We left the store and it was night. At this point, I was older, more like 15. (In real life, I barely saw him after 14.) The stars were beautiful. A "knowing" came down to us, a telepathic communications, that offered my dad 2 bracelets and said, "OK, THREE wishes for each of you."

I warned him, "They want us to take them too badly. What's in it for them?" No answer from them, but my dad took the bracelets--a gold and silver one. He took the gold one and handed me the silver one.

Temptation got to me, but I decided on a plan. I said, "I wish to understand the reasons and motivations for giving us these wishes." If I didn't like the answer, I was going to use my next wish to wish I never made any of these wishes, and that they found someone else instead of us. I don't recall the answer I got, but I did get one (As the other wishes turned out to be temporary then I can assume in retrospect that I DID understand for awhile). It had to do with achieving wisdom--more for them than for us--and I wasn't comforted by it, but not scared enough to wish it all away, either.

We got to his car (a real junker) and my dad cursed as he got his keys out and then said, "I wish my car was a fire engine red Chevrolet Corvette." (In real life Dad had a red T-bird he loved, and pretty much snapped when Mom won it in the divorce and I'm pretty sure it was him who sabotaged the brakes that nearly killed Mom and me.) And it was. I'm not sure what got into me at that moment, but I snatched the keys from his hands, jumped in the car while he gaped at the car and me both, and screeched out of there. I went joyriding for several blocks before I felt guilty about leaving Dad and went back to pick him up. Natch, he was cussing up a storm when I came back.

But once he was in the driver seat, he took off too in the same way I had. We actually had some fun over some car ride until the car reverted back to its normal junk form, causing my dad to cuss a lot more.

Then a scene showed up in which I was not involved in. I suddenly had a "little brother" who was like 7-10. He was picked up by that cop that followed dad around in the store. The cop killed him and then dressed it up to look like a stupid gangland slaying. The memory of this would leave me until after I woke up.

Oddly enough, the murder scene was in the same store where this started, though on the opposite side if that matters. There were other cops around. My dad was suddenly a cop himself and showed up and was majorly upset as you'd expect.

He mentioned to me how he wanted to take the both of us to Disneyland. He then went, "I wish my son [no name I recall] were still alive and we were all at Disneyland." And so we were. Recalling how the car reverted back to its normal form, I added, "I wish that he remains alive," in order to make it permanent.

We really did have a lot of fun at Disneyland. My dad was actually pleasant and fun to be around. And I liked my brother, too. But suddenly it was over. Disneyland vanished, and we were back at the store--on the other side near where the wishing rings were--and the boy was skeletal and in a buggy being pushed by dad.

The other cops came running up and wanted to know what happened, including the condemning (and killing) cop. My dad threw his badge at all of them and yelled, "Keep it!" He stormed out and I didn't see him anymore in the dream.

I decided to use my last wish so I could be done with it. "I wish I could fly by thinking about it, and that I would float gently to the ground just before my wish is over." And so it was.

I flew outside so I could go up high. It was dusk instead of night. (I would say dawn, except the activity was more appropriate to dusk.) I flew and saw some of my old friends from when I was 16, just before I had ran away from home. I wanted to show them my flying so they'd believe me when I told them about the wishes. But as I flew all around them, they didn't see me. I grabbed one on the shoulders and yelled, "Can't you see me!?" She stopped and asked the others if they heard me calling. They looked around and said, no. I tried to push her back, but I went through her like she were jello, and she didn't feel anything at all.

So I flew around by myself for awhile before I felt myself floating down, and then I woke up.

---

posted December 19, 2014 06:08 AM            

I found this Fantasy-music playlist earlier, and feel it has a certain haunting beauty to it that I think fits with your Freya encounter

http://youtu.be/2JnbwJwgJGg?t=1s

posted December 19, 2014 07:07 PM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by PixieJane:

In the "center" (perhaps best to say what commanded my attention and the Song that had brought me here) was a Goddess, ineffable, beautiful, and more intuitively felt (yet more real than anything I ever experienced) who Sang, and I sang back, and communication happened without words (very much like when I communed with the shrooms). Essentially I was "told" that She had Sung me into existence and I must not break, I must instead allow myself to be tempered and grow up, that I was not to be like others who sought to be eternal children to their gods forever seeking to crawl back into the womb that spat them out, instead I must let Her song carry me until I was complete, my own song just as beautiful and strong as the one that birthed my very soul, and worthy of standing by Her side against the giants of Ragnarok.

Another part hard to explain is I felt that if I did break she'd just Sing another Song, yet at the same time I felt Loved, Her child (but not one to remain a child forever praying to her for favors and protection, instead I was to answer my own prayers, including for protection and strength), and it was an ineffable, poignant, beautiful, mysterious moment. She was a goddess, and yet She was pouring Herself into Me and I was one of Her Songs which filled me with awe, reverence, and a powerful will to live, to not silence Her Song.

---

I so love reading about people's experiences of their HS or spiritual guidance. Your should write a book about yours. Quite apart from the content, your writing is beautiful and absorbing. Did you say you write sci-fi?

posted December 19, 2014 07:38 PM            

Have the communications continued in ways other than in dreams? Have you become more psychic as a result? Love the story about the golden sparks, btw. That is better than sic-fi .

posted December 20, 2014 02:59 AM            

As for who/what was testing I really don't know why. It may not be the same as the presence in the shrooms because THAT presence KNEW me, this one does not...or maybe it is the same presence but though it knows me better than I know myself it still doesn't know me as well as it would like.

posted December 20, 2014 03:36 AM            

I've enjoyed everyone's postings on this thread.