There are many ways to restore the energy body, this next couple of dreams proving valid ways to have experienced this. I was then resident in Toronto and briefly cohabiting with Isha da Braga which led to much dream contact with her.
The dreams occurred on Sunday, August 8, 1993. There were two dream cycles that day. At the time, the Moon transited both Aries and my eleventh house. Enjoy, nothing was more glorious than being in flight and especially above the island of my chosen reincarnation, Nevis.
In this the first dream, Harella da Braga, Pandora da Braga and I were together on a large silver plane. This plane was easily twice as large as a Boeing 747-400 series jetliner. Twice as long, it was also easily twice as wide-bodied.
I did have the sense that as large as our craft was that, strangely enough, we were crammed inside another one. Sure enough, while on board the ‘super jumbo’ leaving Europe headed back towards North America, there was a sudden drop.
Before finally getting one’s wind back, this created a few moments of displacement and sheer terror. Now we were moving at great speeds and in a much smaller vehicle.
Harella pointed out that though we were displaced during the drop, we didn’t seem to realise that we had made a 180 degree flip. Now we were travelling north-easterly and upwards from the Sea of Bengal area. We were travelling towards Tokyo, Japan.
Outside, I could see that there was a great deal of heavy, wet autumnal-looking cloud cover. As well, it was still hard to see down below because of the dense fog that covered the entire surface of the planet.
Above there was some cloud cover but nothing that threatened with foul weather. As we travelled at great speeds, it was nonetheless quite wet out. Harella was saying that, en route back to North America, we would make a stop-over in Tokyo.
The speed of this craft was such that it didn’t make it too long a trip. We were able to go from where we were to Japan, afterwards on to central Canada, in less time than a conventional craft would have taken when going from London, England to Toronto.
On landing at Tokyo International Airport, the approach was unbelievably slow; it was almost serpentine. The craft moved as though it were sentient; in that sense, it was as if defying gravity at will.
I don’t recall having deplaned or the actual point of touching down but I do, however, remember walking in this incredibly lush forest. There were lots of immensely tall bamboo plants.
The landscape here was quite beautiful with the mud a wet and blackened affair. Luckily, it was not slippery underfoot. My sense of smell was acute with everything having a wonderful fresh smell to it.
As there was so much cloud cover over Tokyo, the green of the vegetation was not the usual dark rich tones. Rather, it was water bound green – hard and real. Especially so, that tone was most prominent on the bamboo.
Here, it was serene, peaceful and quite good for the respiratory system. I can’t say that I had ever had the lungs so healingly aerated. Standing there, all that I could do was simply close my eyes and allow my soul itself – by way of my open palms, chakras, in particular the solar plexus chakra – to drink of the purified light in this august place.
From there, I ventured out into this lobby which was a wonderful, large public place. Going up the stairs together, Pandora da Braga and I were full of adventuresome spirit.
Harella always hung back to the rear of us. As is often the case, I didn’t look back to see that she was there. Here Harella served as a guide to us both.
Next, into a large tan-coloured interior we ambled. This place seemed much like a museum of some sort. To the immediate right, on coming up the steps that posited one inside the lobby, were several seats.
On the other side, of the wide entrance stairs, was another bank of marble seating arrangements. On either end of them were brass posts which had a frosted glass sphere atop a brass saucer.
Each post was some six inches in diameter. One of each sat at the end of the bank of seats which were each some ten feet long. The sphere itself was larger than normal; it was more than beach ball-sized.
They were turned on at the time and emitted a soft yellow healing light. Isha da Braga, meanwhile, was seated on a bench and looked as if she had become homeless. To be honest, she was lost and long ago become a vacant shell.
Some men were waiting around, close to her, on either side. They were extremely old-souled men. White, they looked like vagrants and were clearly older souls who were reincarnationally close to the end of their cycle of lives.
That being the case, they were just chilling out and staying as unobtrusively out of harm’s way as possible. For that reason, they were beside Isha.
In a strange way, for being in retreat, they were magnetised towards her; they were keeping a watch over her. In a way, they were kindred spirits of hers but for totally different reasons.
Either here in the dreamtime or the waking state, there was no way that one could mistake Isha for being an older soul. I must say, though, that Isha da Braga didn’t look all that fearful as she can look in the waking state.
On coming up and seeing her, Pandora and I made it our duty to approach her and warmly say hello.
A little village in the middle of nowhere, which was very close to nature, proved the setting for the second dream. There I saw a wonderful little wooden hut. Here it was so pristine with the most soulful large trees seen in a long while.
The little hut turned out to have been my home. This was such an organic dwelling with exposed woods everywhere. Seated there, I was visited by a Black couple who came in and sat down in my midst. With them were their two kids.
Locals, they were dark-skinned and looked very West Indian. However, there was something up with these people; I just didn’t connect or trust their vibrations one bit.
When their father went out to get them, the two sons had gone around the back of the hut. On returning indoors, they went up to the second floor of my tiny hut; I had gone out back to join him while he retrieved the kids.
Instinctively, to see what the mother was up to, I knew that I had to rush around to the front of the house. She wore a white dress; it was a cotton number while her head was dressed with a colourful kerchief.
She was very much so like every West Indian commoner. When I went around the side, I saw her putting her hand through the window that led into the kitchen. She was caught in the act of stealing my drying herbs and condiments.
Wasting no time, I called her on her dishonesty. Turning around, she got fully defensive and began making all this noise. Straight away, she gave the impression that I had physically attacked her. This was nothing but a nasty little trap and, on realising as much, I immediately bolted back towards the back of the house.
Rushing back to the front veranda, the kids were there waiting for me and blocked my entry into my own home. As though I was torturing them, they had their little arms out and were screaming at me. Stuck in the middle of nowhere neither they nor my screaming meant anything.
Forcefully, while pushing them impatiently out of my way, I told them to get the fuck out of my way. As I made for the door, I saw the father making his way around the wraparound veranda.
Facing the door, he was coming down towards my right. In his hand, he held a vicious-looking dagger while looking at me as though I were the enemy; they behaved as though I were an interloper in their lives.
I was stunned and unable to believe my eyes. This affair was so god-awful and totally ridiculous. There was no way that I wanted to be caught up in some wretched experience like this.
Immediately, I thought there was no way that I was going to be butchered by these crack-headed fool-assed jerks. With that, I pushed off the veranda and started flying.
Levitating, I rose into the air and cleared the roof then passed over the tiny hut. As I pushed upwards, I kept on moving backwards, away from the hut, while looking down at the hut and the man on the veranda.
I knew that they couldn’t get into the hut because the house was locked and it had a special lock that was opened by my will’s distinctive signature. The window to the kitchen, where the mother had been caught stealing, was however open.
I suppose that they could have hoisted the kids through the window to get access but that seemed unlikely. Coming around the other side of the house, this hideous-personalitied woman then sent her husband down the road after me.
She was insistent that he do everything to capture me. Like her attack dog, he came bounding his body down the street after me. While he lumbered down the road after me, she tyrannically screamed at him.
Sure enough, what happened was that I made my way from the wooded area in search of a clearing. In this way, I kept rising higher and higher, to the point where I thought that I should simply just remove myself from the island all together.
At the time, I had somehow been thinking that this was in St. Kitts somewhere. Seemingly, if at all St. Kitts, this would have been at the south peninsula.
From more than 16,000 feet up, I saw how the white sands of the beach extended out for several hundred feet to sea and made the ocean a crystalline sight. The sea was quite beautiful and light blue.
My energies were given a boost from the intensity of the water’s ability to reflect the light. I knew that I was being fuelled by the light in the atmosphere all about me.
After having made my way clear of the trees, and most of the island, I effortlessly hovered in the air. Long ago, I had left all my troublesome foes behind me.
To have removed myself, from such dross, was a really good feeling. Looking southwards, across to what looked like Nevis, I saw this large building. Even though for being at least 18,000 feet up, I could make out the building.
Meanwhile, way below me, both St. Kitts and Nevis were now clearly discernible as just that. When I finally levelled off, I hovered well above 25,000 feet. At those heights, both islands appeared as if two small sandcastle-like structures in a child’s wading pool.
Simultaneously, my perspective was still down way below where I hid in amongst one of the smaller trees. From the vantage point of what seemed a manseport tree, I looked out at the large building.
This tree’s leaves were in the same clustered formation as a chestnut tree’s; that I found to be interesting because no such thing, as a chestnut family tree, exists in that part of the world.
At least, when I was growing up in St. Kitts, there weren’t any such things. Incidentally, it was the only tree of its kind and for that reason was even more out of place here.
While hiding out, when hovering in the tree, I saw Zora across the road from me. She was atop the building and was preparing to leap. Surprised was I to find that she had leapt all the way across a small body of water. Cheering her on, I called her to come and join me.
Instead, she had gone walking around the tree. Zora surprisingly flew in the dream and came and softly landed, minus her distended claws, on my shoulder.
In that sense, she was as if some strange furred bird. Thinking passingly of Merlin, I thought of a parrot which is a bird he so favoured. After having landed on my left shoulder, she then walked around and soon perched on my right shoulder.
Hovering there in the air, I was reclining on my back as it were with Zora on my right shoulder.
“Zora! How good it is to see you!”
She sat there purring the most treasured affectionate song that, for so long now, I had not heard in the waking state. So very good it was to see her. While my physical body remained no more than seventy feet aloft, there was an aspect of self – the higher self, if you like – which remained hovering more than 25,000 feet in the air.
Descending, I touched down over in Nevis. While there, I noticed that there were these people who were walking along the road. Three men in all, two were White and the other Black.
Sure enough, I saw them metamorphose before my eyes. One of them became the father who had been chasing me.
‘Oh no, you don’t,’ I thought.
“Oh Zora, hang on. We have to get going here.”
Holding on tightly to the cat, I began flying again. This time at incredible speeds, directly above the road, I flew. I was just above the crown of the adult trees’ foliage – some six feet or so above. The trees here were massive-trunked and easily towered up for over sixty feet.
Somehow, their look was more of the southern United States of America than in the Caribbean that I know of. Very soulful were these trees. Veering off a bit, by flying to the left side of the road, I drank of the trees’ collective vibration.
In that way, I was able to fuel my flight by surfing along the vibrational aura of their massive physicality. To try and catch up to me, though I sped along much faster than the guy, he made himself into a ball of light.
Though not looking back, I had been made keenly aware of this – from my omniscient perspective by hovering high above all this. From those heights, I could see everything with keen intimate detail.
He had transformed himself and became a ball of yellow-blue light. Eventually, he overtook me then veered off to the left. I thought that it was ingenious of him but I had been expecting him to stop once safely ahead of me.
Veering off onto another road, I assumed that he had gone there to wait for me. I assumed that ambush was the strategy here. Averting him, I made a sudden left turn while simultaneously soaring skywards; now I flew at even greater speeds than before.
Little Zora hung on for dear life. As she enjoyed the vivacity of the experience, her energies picked up. Coming out from the left to intercept me, I had been much too clever for him. With that, he then bolted out onto the road and made a sharp left turn. He had been desperately trying to make up ground.
Much to my delight, for having overshot himself, his ball-of-light transformed body went ricocheting down the road. He had over-projected and went whizzing down the road, at near faster-than-light speeds, without being able to break his speed soon enough.
Obviously, I was not travelling at the speed of light; this is why I had not become light myself. Eventually, I happened on a building and entered inside where I sought refuge.
There, I saw a woman inside of what was yet another hut. Though it had screens on the windows and doors, there were a lot of flies here. Retreating, I had gone up to a loft space and taken Whoopi and not Zora with me.
I told her that we were about to fly and she was not to be afraid. Above all else, whatever she did, I told the neurotic Whoopi that she mustn’t use her claws. No matter how scared she got, she was simply not to use those claws of hers on me.
Then I directed the woman to carry Zora when she flew because Whoopi was more likely to be panicked. More than anything, she would more trust being in flight with me than with anyone else.
Testing her nerves, I began slowly descending from the high loft with Whoopi in my arms. True to form, just as I had feared, the poor creature began grappling on to me and became panicked.
Though she was clawing nuisance, luckily and because this was the dreamtime, it was never painful. For the life of me, I pleaded with Whoopi to stop being panicked. While in flight from the loft, I then descended head first.
On landing on the ground, it was a wooden floor. The entire space was wooden-floored. In some places the floor was varnished while not so in others. Off to the left was an opening which proved to have been a doorway.
Though the door had been closed, I realised that the man who had transformed himself into a ball of light could easily have made his way through it then reanimate and become his menacing human form again.
Though I tried getting Whoopi to get it together, she began going berserk on noticing the flies in the place. Finally, I decided that we could wait for her to catch the flies.
If that is what it would take, to make this skittish creature happy, then so be it. The old kook, she wanted to play with them rather than eat them. Frankly, I was not in any mood to tolerate this sort of thing for much longer.
Eventually, I returned to a verandaed hut. Nonetheless, I was not at all certain that this was one and the same as my hut from which I had literally taken flight.
Emotionally, this was quite upsetting. There was a sense of these people feeling, if they wanted, that they could get me. Somehow, they had decided that they would fuck with me.
*I am inclined, on reflection, to think that there may be an element of foul play involved in this dream. I think as in that dream with Maudie Hazel who fled with Whoopi and me, to escape having to come to terms with seeing her body dead and lifeless, I too had died during the course of this dream.
I believe that it is possible that the man had succeeded in murdering me. Thus, while I fled unable to come to terms with having died, a greater part of self (the soul) remained hovering even higher – than my fleeing body in flight – at 25,000 feet.
If I had been murdered by the man, in this dream, it would stand to reason that he would become karmically magnetised to me. This is why he then, being so karmically fated to me, would become as if an all-consuming ball of light. After having likely murdered me, he was attracted to karmically hunt me down.
Of course, the fact that there were flies everywhere on returning to the little hut would suggest that my murdered and decomposed body had given rise to the flies. Naturally, as there was a part of me not fully accepting of being dead, in this dream, I would then speculate in the dream that it perhaps was another tiny hut.
Of course, that dream in which Maudie Hazel was running away from having to accept that she had died occurred on Friday, February 28, 1992(148). END.33
*Photo is an aerial view of Nevis, West Indies.
© Arvin da Braga 2014