Dreams - A Spiritual Story
Dreaming is something we often consider as a sleeping tool of imagination, working on solving daily life problems or allowing for creativity to erupt during pre-sleep and in the early waking hours of the morning.
What happens for me as a deliberate intuitive healer and psychic being, is that I dream while awake, having strong clear visions while standing up. They pop in all the time no matter where I am. I’ve learned to manage them, enjoy and celebrate that these are gifts I have embraced and continue to grow.
One of these visions occurred while married to my older, sweet and religiously driven husband.
It was a sunny, fluffy cloud perfect day.
We were off on one of our weekend get-aways that we loved to take. This one was from Southern California, where we lived, to Northern California, where the air was clean, the traffic was lighter and the huge redwood trees were calling us to spend time.
As we rode in the car with my hubby driving, I began to get a vision about him.
I asked him respectfully if I could share with him what I was seeing. He readily agreed.
I had pictures as clear as those we see of landscapes and the life in front of us.
I saw a young boy walking at a fast pace to his family home. As he got closer, I could smell warm chocolate brownies and chocolate chip cookies wafting up my nose from the open kitchen window of a very small, sweet bungalow style Mid-West home. I saw a woman baking away with such joy in a little kitchen. The boy dumped his school bag and changed from school clothes to sports clothing. He wandered sneakily into the kitchen, grabbed three warm cookies and stuffed them into the side pocket on the right side of his shorts, waved absent-mindedly at the parents that were now seated in the living room, as he ran out of the house. He ran across a couple of fields and then stood with friends, while munching on the warm crumbled cookies in his right pocket. This was an interesting fact as the boy was very obviously right handed, due to the baseball mitt he had on his left hand.
When I shut up speaking of my visions, my husband drew in a large breath and with an emotion in his voice he confirmed the small home outside of Chicago, the sports clothes he changed into from school every other day, running across fields to greet friends and of course, the best sensory memory of his parents, who were both recently passed at that point, the cookies and brownies his mother made on a regular basis, that he always sneaked into pockets while still warm. He had them in his right pocket because of the left glove.
It was a great share and lovely for awakened dreams to be alive and well.
Sharing dreams keeps hope and awareness alive.
Let’s all live in a World that keeps dreaming.
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Love & Blessings,
Ruth
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