I wake up wondering what is Midrash. Surely Hebrew but a word I am not yet familiar with. Daylight breaks with a question in mind. What is Midrash? “Where did you hear this word?” “In my dream” I responded. “A Beit Midrash is a house of hebrew bible studies.”
As I retold the dream he smiled and said “it doesn’t surprise me”. Didn’t surprise me either this wasn’t the first time I had dreamed in Hebrew recently but it was the first time I heard a word I did not recognize in my dream. Midrash. I’d been summoned to come to Midrash by an unknown messenger. A subconscious gesture of my curious mind?

3 years later I can see the dream with my eyes open. I can still feel my spirit lift each time I see the robed arm release me with his message willowing in my ears. 3 years later I am still floating in his message. Come to Midrash…

Scenes of water and sadness consume my dreams more nights these days. The closer I get to Midrash the more questions I have. Gates have opened but the forked road I must take to get there keeps me in the middle. Perhaps the only direct way to the gate is a decision to be
made, What does it mean to me?

From the Dream Diary of Janice Hunter

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I am standing on the platform of the elevated train station.  My cousin has arrived to pick me up. I tell him I have lost my cell phone.  He gives me a watch and tells me I can reach him using the watch. I look at the watch, the hands are standing still.  I don’t believe I will be able to call him with it.  Suddenly it starts pouring.  He shelters me and gives me a pair of galoshes.  I put the boots on and we head out into the pouring rain. We are in the park now. The rain has stopped and the sun is shining bright. We start chasing colorful balloons across the park.  I feel happy and we are laughing. We embrace and kiss gently.  I feel safe.

This dream is so strong and symbolic I have not been able to shake it for days.  Initially when I awoke I felt confused about the intimacy within the dream. Sigmund Freud would have labeled this sexual in nature.  More a tuned to the works of Carl Jung I proceed to delve deeper into the message.  As I replay the dream in my mind it’s vivid symbols overwhelm my curiosity.  A cousin, a train, a lost phone, a watch, the pouring rain, the balloons, the kiss, all lucid messages from my subconscious.  I have spent the last few days thinking, analyzing and understanding what message from within has been delivered to my waking mind.

I want to hear my subconscious voice clearly and so I close my eyes, imagine myself walking around my body stopping face to face.  I look down into my closed eyes and recapture every scene as if in slow motion.  I am overwhelmed at the depths of emotions.  This may seem like an ordinary dream but I am beginning to understand what I would not hear consciously.

I am on this platform no train coming or going because it has already arrived. This is not a missed train.  My journey began years ago and although there are days I doubt myself I know I have built this platform but have failed to completely accept that I deserve what I have built. The lost cell phone is symbolic of the communication I have lost within myself. The watch reminding me the time is here and now, hence the hands standing still. The sudden pouring rain feels like the tears cleansing away my doubts that now drip down my cheeks as I am in this dream all over again. I am sheltered. Putting on these new boots makes me feel strong and ready to go out in the rain. I feel centered again. The sun is shining bright. My body as still as meditation. There is no such beauty as realizing reality. The park is alive with greenery and how I can relate to the feeling of being so alive as I begin to accept what has been missing in my waking hours. Chasing bright colored balloons my spirit is young and unbroken again.  My cousin mirroring my feelings of glee. Deep in his eyes I see a familiar soul. Tall, bright, funny,charming, secrets longing to be free. My subconscious has chosen a vessel to be the messenger.  Embrace the feeling.  A gentle kiss makes us one. 
This is me safe and real.

–Writer–Janice Hunter

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Few years forward, I remember this one sunny afternoon when I felt so dizzy I need to sleep it off. I was about to see my friends so I tried to shake it off but to no avail. I ended up snoozing on the sofa. As usual, I dreamed. I dreamed of being in a car with my dad. I was talking incessantly and he was so intent on driving, like he never heard me. Everything seemed fine until an old man suddenly appeared in front of the car and my dad swerved sharply to avoid the old man. Unfortunately, we went off the road and down the cliff. I remembered meeting my dad’s sad eyes before my nanny woke me up after hearing me scream nonstop. She quickly brought me water to drink while I burst out the dream like a mad girl. As I calmed down, she told me never to tell anyone about this dream. My friends came and soon I forgot all about the dream I had. Only, when I got home, my nanny was sitting in the front porch waiting for me to come home and told me the news:  that my father died in a car accident.

Then there was this time, I dreamed of my mom dating my professor five years after my father’s death. I wasn’t aware that they know each other, much less, date and besides, my mom never told me anything about seeing him so one night, after dinner, out of nowhere, I just told her to give it a chance and it’s totally okay with me if she chooses to marry again. She broke into tears and hugged me. The next night, she invited my professor to have a dinner with us. He became my stepfather.

There have been other dreams that eventually came true.  Some of them were painful, others were just random, uneventful things while most held happiness. My nanny’s no longer with us but before she died she told me she had always believed in my dreams and always took note when I rely messages from my dream.

Soon after my marriage took an ugly turn and I was left to fend for myself, it is but natural to suffer depression, only mine was a little over the top and required psychiatric help. During those times, it was a barrage of dreams that totally confused me I could no longer recognize them. I cleaned up and got my act together, only I lost a big part of me:  the dreams stopped.

Author: Anonymous

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Dreams can be extremely realistic depending on the individual, or very surreal. Most dreams defy the logic of being awake, yet they still transfer a sense of importance in our lives. While some disregard dreams as nothing more than a jumble of memories, others may tell the future while asleep. Edgar Evans Cayce, or the sleeping prophet, is regarded as the Nostradamus of our time and the most well documented psychic of our time. Though it remains a topic of debate, and one that continues to intrigue the imagination, Mr. Casey was also the most accurate of the psychics in history. In his words “that lack of interest is the reason for poor dream recall; that only the dreamer knows the meaning of his dream; and that a dream is correctly interpreted when it makes sense to the dreamer, when it checks out with his other dreams, and when it moves him forward in his life”, as he put so eloquently.

The dream that I had was recalled with accuracy and was very vivid. I have those kinds of dreams often, even combining the surreal “alien” alternate-reality worlds that have reoccurred in my sleep, though this one was distinctly different. Though I have had very interesting dreams in the past, the one thing that I have never dreamt of is me living through another person. So without further adieu, this is my story…

I am in Time Square, a very lively and famous area of New York City. The time of day is most likely in the early afternoon. I am guided to the multi-story Toys R Us building by two men dressed in very sharp black suits. We approached the elevator and as I look to it, I can see there are several floors going up, but only a B1, B2, and B3 going underground. A very subtle area underneath the elevator button grid, radiated a warmth that I could feel vividly as my hand approached it… However when I look at my hand, it is not the hand that I grew up with. It was a different skin color, an older complexion, and I instantly knew that it was not my body.  After index and middle finger slid across the grooves, an almost holographic display appeared with the first “button”, for all intents and purposes, was B-79. The body that I was in was not surprised but it was as if my consciousness was trapped within this other person. As the elevator drops and picks up speed, the pressure in the cabin made our ears pop. I will refer to myself in the dream as we, or our, because I was very confused yet my host understood everything perfectly. At that very moment, steam and tiny particles of light filled the cabin and the pressure and air felt very comfortable again.

As we reach our destination my mind could not believe how large, well lit, and how much flora and fauna could exist so deep beneath the earth. From my understanding, my host body knew it to be miles deep. We are guided past a fountain where many people who gave me an impression of being something other than human despite their appearances were gathering and speaking. All of their languages were indistinguishable to my ears, yet my host again walked past if it was an every day for him. Finally arriving at our post, we are asked if there is any way we can prove our new technology works. So my host explained mathematics and concepts that I could have only imagined before then, yet still felt eerily familiar to me. We explained that through the manipulation of crystals, different frequency and intensity lasers, and a gyroscopic type turning device, we could create smaller electro magnetic fields… As you may, or may not know, our home planet of Earth (as well as almost every other known planet) has an incredibly strong electromagnetic field that shields our planet from deadly Solar rays (gamma, beta, etc.) and also maintains our living conditions on earth (atmosphere, pressure, air, water, etc.).

Shortly after explaining the concepts, we proved through a miniature air-to-water vehicle could maintain the same velocity and conditions traveling at high speeds while submerging underwater (which would normally cause huge resistance and damage to any vessel). It worked! The experiment was a success and we were applauded for our discovery. Not only could we maintain the same velocity, atmospheric conditions, and even temperature within the electromagnetic bubble, but we could also do it while invisible. For the human eye, it is proven that color is nothing more than light bouncing off a certain aspect of the electromagnetic field.. By manipulating the “color” of the field, you could make it appear transparent, thus making everything within seem invisible!

The part of me that was aware that I was in my host, was so excited as that was something that I always wondered. I myself am considered strange because I blend philosophy and science in an open-minded mentality that is not restricted by “solid evidence”. I am of the mind set that things that are “proven” can be unproven, and that nothing is set in stone. We may find thousands, or even hundreds of years into the future that our concepts of simple things were completely wrong… In fact it is already happening with certain things such as food; Chocolate was considered very bad for you, yet now it is proven that it has antioxidants and reduces stress in the body.

I did a lot of research after this dream, and I actually found some of the answers that I was looking for. Though the scientific part of me does not discount the possibility that it could be faux, the philosophical (spiritual) side of me has not closed this case just yet. I would like to share the information that I found, but this is simply a gaze into the complexity and vastly un-known world of dreaming! May you all dream a good dream and find answers in your own way.

- Christopher Rosario.

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This man always manifests in my dreams when I feel doubt or unexplained fear. For those times I seemed to have lost myself and felt there’s no way to go anymore, he’s always there waiting for me, not speaking but communicating through the heart. I can feel his messages but no words were ever spoken. I feel his eyes looking through mine yet I couldn’t see his face, much less his eyes. I just feel his comforting warmth every time he visits me. Most of the time, it’s a welcome gesture for me because he seldom visits me when I’m okay—only for those times I needed someone to assure me that everything will be alright, he never failed to be there. His visits never failed to clear my head and soon after each visit, I feel confident that I can quickly arrive to the right decision for the problem at hand.

Back then, I hoped to find answers:  why he exists in my dreams, who is this man and what’s the man for? Is he a portent of something that will come my way, good or bad? Or he’s just a symbol of hope for me? I tried to find answers and I even willed myself to ask him point-blank, if only I could open my mouth back then. I know I tried several times but I just couldn’t make it. After several attempts, I gave up.

I assessed myself and arrived to a conclusion that I need his presence much more than my need for answers so I let him be. After all, he made me feel good, why would I fight it?

Author:  Immortal Geisha

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The boy wondered how he became to be in the lobby of a building in New York City. As he glanced at the clock which read 8:30 a.m. the man behind the desk said, “Do you need help with anything?” The boy appeared speechless, confused, and held back his tears of fear, the child then stuttered an answer saying, “Where is the restroom?” The man then replied back saying “up stairs to left”. The young child walked to what he saw as moving stairs, which seemed to confuse him even more. As he got on the moving stairs arriving to the top, he walked to men’s restroom, went into a stall, sat in the corner and cried.

He was so baffled and couldn’t understand why he was where he was. He kept shutting his eyes as hard as he could, thinking he would open them and be back home. The young boy then heard a loud sound that ruffled the walls of the restroom, then another loud sound, which was that of a fire alarm. He didn’t want to move from the spot he was at, he feared what was happening and just wanted to be back home. After sitting for thirty-five minutes hoping for a miracle would happen to make him vanish and appear at his home, he decided to stand up and walk back outside. He heard cries, running, and screaming; as he stood outside the restroom door confused at what to do next he glanced at the clock that read 9:50a.m.

He walked back to the moving stairs, seeing hundreds of people running, sweating, and crying as they run towards the exit. The tall man that has brown and blonde hair appeared sad, the man then told the boy to run outside of the building as fast as he could. As the boy went down the moving stairs, he realized he couldn’t run. His legs were hard to move each time. As he moved as fast as his legs would let him, making it outside, and across the street, he started to hear a thunderous sound from above. His body quivering, his eyes watery, his heart stopped, feared with what he has witnessed. He saw this grayish cloud tumbling down towards him! He then turned around, back towards the building and began to run as fast as he could. He began to scream for help, crying out for his mother and father, tears running down his cheeks frightened if this dark cloud would consume him and his life.
He then turned his head towards the cloud to see how close it was, realizing it was two feet from his back, began to run even faster. He then closed his eyes, while feeling a chill upon his back, the grayish smoke consuming his body, making it harder to breath. He then opened his eyes and saw only black, pitch black, not a thing insight. He looked down to the right and saw a familiar dog next to him. He sighed with relief, wiped the tears from his cheeks. The young boy then glanced as his face in a rugged mirror within the room and his face was covered with the grayish color that haunted his dream.

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After minutes of passing time goes by, this figure standing on the moon speaks and says “Billy”. The young man then becomes aware of the familiar voice. It was his father! Billy then asked, “Why are you on the moon dad? Will you be home from work soon?” Billy’s father stood heartbroken at those very words. He didn’t know what words to say to his young child, eyes filled with such innocence sitting upon his bed awaiting an answer.

His father, with his voice scratchy says, “I won’t be coming home Billy, I am on my journey to heaven”. Billy’s faced filled with sorrow, tears stream down his cheeks saying, “I don’t want you to go”. The father’s eyes glow with wet gloomy sadness, seeking the right words to say to his young child. “I love you Billy, and I love your mother; you both mean so much to me, and I will always love the both of you. Do me a favor and tell your mother that I love her, and that daddy has to move on”.

“Will I ever get to see you again father?” Billy asked his dad with tears running down his face, dripping upon his hands. “Anytime you are scared, confused, or in need of my presence just glance up to the moon and I will hear you and see you. You may not see or hear me, that doesn’t mean I’m not there.” The figures shadow begins to fade and Billy’s mind began to feel drowsy. As the man on the moon vanishes into infinite skies, Billy drifted back to consciousness. Only to discover the mystified news that he has already learned.

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Music playing to the strike of your excitement, and coffee dripping to the beat of your heart equals perfection. Layering up for the infamous wintry NY weather, on the verge of heading to the streets just outside your door, you take a deep breathe. As you walk the busy streets of this beautiful lighted city that frames your individuality, this moment feels so blissful.

Wind hitting your skin, coffee slathering your lips. You feel indestructible and full of delight. This is it; this is what you’ve always wanted. This is the moment that has haunted your thoughts, and has been left unchecked from your goals. This is the chapter in your life where you get to re-do your beginning. This is the moment that will show your notoriously hidden smile to shine from your inner core. This is that extraordinary day!

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As I laid in my bed looking at the moon as though it was a clock just waiting, waiting for another day, another hour, waiting to see the sun, just hoping that day would end. When I heard my parents start to calm down and go to bed, I got out of my bed and started to the door. As I put my hand upon the doorknob I heard someone coming. I knew because we had wood floor and it would make this screeching sound as you walk around the house. I scattered back to my bed and heard the door open, it was my mother to kiss us goodnight, and I heard a light whisper from my mother’s lips to my ear saying “Happy Birthday”.

As I listened to her footsteps walk out of my bedroom door and into hers, I got out of my bed, put my robe on and went to the kitchen. I got a glass of water and as I started towards my room I saw my dog Rocky, he was a Doberman. He was lying in front of the fireplace; he was a beautiful color of brown and red he was a muscular dog, one that has an image of a horse.

It was one of those nights that feel so much like a dream. However, was it because I wanted it to be a dream, or was it because I expected my birthday to be a great day, instead of just my average routine? Maybe it was a dream! In this dream like world I fell asleep next to the warm fireplace, yet I woke up in bed the next morning and had no notion of how I got there.

Could this have been a dream where you just can’t tell the difference from what is real and what is fake. I mean I could simply say it was a dream if I was this millionaire child whose parents choose there livelihood of being parents rather then having complications. I guess I will never know if I was awake or fast asleep dreaming this reality dream.

Author: Justin Wallace

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This recent dream of my late pet dog is not a rare experience of an emotional scene set in a unique mental studio. Seeing my late kin close to me, the living ones departing, and a range of other emotional situations, has become a familiar phenomenon that repeats itself, every now and then, without any conscious effort. Dreams connect me to the past; take me to the future; and even paint a living and breathing picture of my present – all this without charging me a dime. Generous dreams!

The question of how our dreaming faculty shoots these fascinating, one-time videos may be reserved for some other time. At the moment, it sounds pertinent to reflect on the value of emotionality contained in our dreams. Many, or most, dreams have a high emotional value: some leave you happy; some induce gloom; yet others bring erotic passion. Every time you wake up from an emotionally-laden dream, your physical and mental status is recharged with respect to energy and mood. At times, you may find it hard to walk after experiencing a spooky scene; and then there are moments when a visit from some long-dead kin leaves you in peace for several hours after you are out of the dream. In all cases, it is obvious that dreams provide an outlet and an inlet for managing our emotional needs.

While it may sound nothing extraordinary, dreams must be credited as an invaluable and rare means of managing emotions. In our times, when a 9 to 5 job and the myriad of other headaches demand a check on emotive displays, dreams are the resort of satiating our emotional needs without restraint. Fear, sorrow, anger, joy, and regret are dissipated from the unconscious via the virtual cinema that runs before the dreamer – free of cost. Take the dreams away and you hardly expect to manage the emotional energy that constantly sprouts from your instincts and their responses to life experiences. Continual suppression of emotions, without an effective outlet, can give us to one or more long-term psychological problems including anxiety and depression.

Also interesting, and important, is the role dreams play in reinforcing the emotional settings of the dreamer with respect to other people, things, and places in his life. Thus, when I watch my deceased aunt patting my cheek with affection, my familial fondness for my mom’s sisters is reinforced as I receive the emotional reward from their side, albeit from a woman who passed away 16 years ago. One can consciously think of those lost love ones and get connected emotionally. But the emotional experience of dreams is stronger, more immediate, spontaneous, and more rewarding than wakeful reflections in which the personal sense of self (the ‘I’), always dominates the consciousness.

Dreams are our inexhaustible repositories of storing, receiving, and mending the emotive paraphernalia whose suppression would otherwise pose a serious psychological problem of alienation.

Author: Ernest Dempsey

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