My son is exhibiting psychic abilities, which continue to surprise both myself, a consciousness and imagination researcher, my daycare provider, an open-minded woman not actively pursuing any study other than child-behavior, and my partner, an accountant with no experience in anything spiritual. A new element has arisen for my son and I in our spiritual entanglement (See "
A Mother's Plea"). I'm exhibiting a psychic download of ideas and perspectives from his inner space. Just as my dreaming serves as a corrective force to my inaccurate conclusions, it seems to now be showing me the inaccurate conclusions of my son's own mind. If you ever wanted to keep your secrets from your parents, be thankful I'm not your mother. It wouldn't work with ill-intent though, and I already feel I have somehow violated his privacy.
(Brackets in this and all my articles are used to denote my waking perspective and analyses, in contrast to my retelling persona/dreaming perspective. I use the phrases zero-point energy field, sea/ocean of nonlocality, realm of universal consciousness, and fifth dimension interchangeably as synonyms throughout my writings.)
Monday, October 18th, 2014
I'm walking with my dad on a sojourn to an important destination, but our food was stolen and had to be left behind so we could get away from the perpetrators safely. Starving, I knew we would have to catch our next meal. My father is a hunter/gatherer. I grew up catching fish, deer, elk, and foraging for mushrooms and berries. He believes one should be able to catch, kill, skin, and prepare the meat they eat. He instilled a respect for the animals and ecosystems we take from by being humane in the kill, burying the carcass, sharing with your family and neighbors the bounty, and never wasting.
We come to a marshy body of water, and I expect my dad is going to target wildlife in this area. He launches a shot at ... a flamingo? One drops into the water and he tells me to do my job of roping it and dragging it to shore for gutting. I toss my lasso [I don't really know how to do this] and perform the retreival, all the while I'm thinking "Why are flamingoes the chosen animal for this task?" I'm vocalizing my inner dialogue and what's happening to a presence behind me who is along to observe. This presence is curious, non-threatening, but out-of-place. I feel they stepped into my dream from somewhere else in the zero-point field that would be considered their regular domain. I experienced this distinction of two different pockets brought together at the seams like a video game delineates two players' perspectives on the same screen with a slash or box outline. It also had the feeling of being a subliminal, or background image literally behind me or in the back of my brain. It was there but I couldn't access it completely, so I only caught glimpses. I saw a bustling, paved area as you might find in front of a downtown building. Large stone blocks in a slight arc are for seating. On the ground in front of them were circular slots that water could fountain out of during the summer for kids to play in. Shrubbery lined the background beyond the stone benches.
Even ground fountain with stone benches similar to the scene the observer presence hopped over into my dream from. There was only one bench, like where business employees would eat their lunch outside a tall building, and the water wasn't on.
I explained to the presence that we'll eat whatever we can find, and the process of gutting, though I'm still surprised that my dad expects us to eat flamingo. He hands me a bowl of the cooked meat. I taste it. Like no meat I've ever had before. The flavor overwhelms my mouth and I opt to not eat much.
The dream continues on with us arriving at a spiral tower about to fall apart, made from scrap parts, and sitting practically on the water next to a small boat dock. In this tower we end up escaping from Santa Claus, who has been feeding the children lies about who he is. I'm ushering the kids out of the tower. Its stability waning with every step. I can see sky in between every ceiling and floor. It wobbles like an animated building, unrealistically holding together with how detached its floors and walls are.
Strange right? I wake up thinking, "First time I've ever seen flamingos in my dreams." Then I forget the dream happened!
A couple hours later, I'm sitting on the couch with my 3 and a half old son watching "My Little Pony" when he randomly asks: "I want eat flamingo."
My body jolted hot at his comment. I had forgotten about the dream already, until he reminded me of it. But, I hadn't told him. "What? Where did you get that idea?"
"I want eat it." Was all he said, still staring at his show and playing with his foot. Nothing in the show had flamingo, and there is nothing in my house with the likeness of flamingo, except a sticker in his sticker book. I didn't understand where he got this idea from. Did he have the same dream I did?
"Where do we have flamingo? Show me."
He brought me to the fridge and pointed to the bag of raw ground beef.
"That's cow meat, honey." He must've thought because it was pink that it was flamingo. But why did I dream about eating flamingo?
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