Akashic Records?
Tuesday, November 17th, 2009
I just realized it’s been over a year since I’ve last written in here. Eek! Far too long. I had a very interesting dream a few nights ago that’s stuck with me, and a blog that needs writing in, so here goes…
A few days ago I was listening to an episode of Coast to Coast about spirit guides while I was at work, and on my lunch break I figured, hey, why not? I’ll ask them for help. I did and thought no more of it.
Later that night (actually closer to 5am or so) I was half awoken by a woman’s voice in my room. I remember opening my eyes and not seeing anything, but feeling like I had just missed the person as she walked into my kitchen. She had said something like, “who’s on this one?” I closed my eyes again and the next thing I knew, I saw an old woman looking down over me, like she was waiting for me to wake up and notice her. My immediate reaction was fear, because hell, what else would you feel if you found someone hovering over you waiting for you to wake up and notice them? I got the feeling like she was really trying to creep me out, until I thought to myself, “don’t be afraid, or it’ll all go away,” and then she looked down at me and smiled like she was my grandma. Like maybe she was just fucking with me but gave in. She moved out of my vision and I saw a middle-aged, portly redheaded woman sitting in the corner of my room, looking at me. She said something like, “we’re here,” like I should know who they were, and I felt this gratefulness overwhelm me as I remembered my request earlier that day. I tried to thank her but couldn’t say anything. I remember raising my head off of the pillow in my attempt and being frustrated at my inability to speak, but she nodded her head in recognition.
I turned my head around toward the wall behind me and sort of made out something faint on it, as if someone had scribbled their fingers in dust. I remember trying to open my eyes, but the more I opened my eyes, the fainter everything became. I closed my eyes again and the more I tried to make it out, the higher the contrast became between the writing and the paint on the wall. It was a list, about eight lines long. The only thing I could remember from it was the first line, something like, “1/2 / 2/3.” I can’t remember whether it was a unit of measurement or not, but it was handwritten in bold, purple letters. The clearer that the list became, the more I could see on the rest of the wall.
I remember seeing a name next, about six or seven letters long and starting with an “M” and sitting right beneath a military-like wing emblem and what looked to be a newspaper clipping about the M-named person. After seeing me suddenly awake and disturbing the sheets, my boyfriend mumbled something like, “what are you doing? Go back to sleep.”
As I looked around, more chunks of handwriting appeared on the wall, completely covering it. I noticed a line over to my left, and went over to examine it. It started out at the floor of my room, with a drawing of paw prints leading up to a cluster of scrawlings in several different handwritings about several different people, with a narrow column of prose about the mysterious M-named person alongside it. I followed the trail upward until it became a line that led up to a drawing of an open doorway. It was then that I realized that this was my soul’s entire timeline, that the little snippets of verbiage were from different lifetimes that I have had or have yet to have. The name in the first area that I had noticed had been my own last name before. I remember struggling to read the contents of the accompanying newspaper clipping out loud, in hopes that my boyfriend lying next to me would hear me mumbling in my sleep and be able to recount to me what he had heard me say (but to no avail). I took a camera and figured, “I’ll read it later, just take as many pictures of it as I can for now and go through them afterward when I wake up,” but as soon as I got about three pictures in, a voice said to me, “we said you can’t take any of this with you, we’ll show it to you as you need it.” I deleted the contents of the camera in shame, and as I did, everything on the wall started to fade, and then the dream became a normal dream, where the wall was in the house of a golden retriever that my boyfriend was housesitting for, and just turned into regular abstract dream from there.
The strange thing is, I haven’t been able to have memorable dreams for a very long time, so this stands out a lot to me, especially with how real and detailed it seemed. The voice in the beginning woke me up, and the faces that I saw in the dream were detailed unlike anything else that I can remember experiencing in a dream.
I investigated more into what I had seen, and learned that what I saw on the wall might well be my Akashic Record, a record of everything in one’s past and future lives, sort of like the book of judgment. I get the feeling though that the help that I got from the people I saw might not be the actual contents of the record, but the acknowledgment that the spirit guides exist and are there for me when I need them. Who knows? I’d like to think that…
