Visions, part 1

April 25, 2023

About a year and a half ago, I started having visions. I’m not entirely clear how or why, but what started as meditative visualizations eventually turned interactive. I continue to be an active participant, at times dictating the actions in my meditations. But in much the way our dreams come to us without our purposeful intention, so have some of my meditations come to me.

I’ve been reluctant to write about (or talk about, for that matter) my visions, for fear that people would think I’m crazy. In this era that considers itself hyper-rational, my visions are anything but. As is common with fear, this one is more general than specific; I’m not exactly sure who I’m afraid will shun me, just that somehow everyone will think I’m crazy. But (and we’ll come back to this), my meditations have recently revealed that I should be writing about them…so we’ll start today, with one of my earliest visions, because it’s relevant to my life today.

The vision started with me moving away from fear. Fear was following me, driving me, pushing me down a path. The path, interestingly, was backward relative to how my body was positioned physically at the time; my physical body was pointed in one direction, but in my vision I was walking in exactly the other direction. What occurred to me is that when we are motivated by fear, we move away from what we don’t want instead of toward what we want. As I walked down the path, the path got imperceptibly narrower. What occurred to me is that when we are motivated by fear, we must continually shrink to fit on the path. Obviously we don’t shrink physically, but we do metaphorically and metaphysically; our souls shrink, if you will.

After realizing that I was getting smaller and smaller, I decided to turn around. I felt relief as the space opened up and the path got larger again (the narrowing path felt constricting, as does living in fear). Feeling the relief, I paused to collect myself and take inventory. I sensed that I do not need to do, I just need to be. I sensed an internal light, weak but growing, and that pausing would enable the light to grow, and that my light would guide me when it was time to take action.

Then Jesus appeared. It occurred to me that Jesus is the purest form of Love that I know, given my life and experiences. I became overwhelmed with shame, and I wept uncontrollably (both in my physical body as well as in my vision). Jesus’ presence exposed in sharp relief just how small I had become. I felt shame, guilt, and sadness with how far I had wandered from my path and purpose. I begged forgiveness.

Jesus didn’t speak. He didn’t need to: his messages radiated from him to me. He conveyed forgiveness (with a sense of obviousness: “of course you are forgiven”). He emanated peace and calm. More than anything, he conveyed an enveloping love and empathy. After a few minutes of processing my shame and guilt, and then releasing them (partly thanks to Jesus’ blessing), I spent several minutes just processing a profound sadness that I hadn’t been walking my path. I sensed years of missed opportunities.

After several minutes of weeping, I finally achieved a deep sense of peace, calm, and gratitude. In retrospect, I felt cleansed. At this point, I invited Jesus inside me. Jesus shrank and travelled into my torso; I imagined him sitting with my light, helping me tend to it, helping it grow. After a period of time (this felt like a fast-forward of sorts; as if the nurturing of my light would take some time), I started on my path with Jesus and my light (this time facing in the same direction as my physical body).

I looked ahead and saw a faint outline of a destination. I had already established in an earlier vision that one of my gifts (and maybe my true Gift) is as a Seer: I see things far off in the distance, before others. And so it made sense that I saw a destination far off in the distance. The destination wasn’t particularly clear, in fact it was decently fuzzy. But I knew it was my destination, and in fact I sensed it was a destination others (maybe even most others) will want to pursue with me, but that I would need to start the journey alone. I couldn’t see the path at all, only the destination. So I took a step in the direction of the destination…

…and I plunged into darkness. After one step, I was in complete darkness. I couldn’t see anything. I stopped, collecting myself. After a few minutes, my eyes adjusted (and my inner light began lighting the area around me, albeit only slightly). Imagine a candle lit in a cavernous room: I could see a step in front of me, but the room became much darker just a few feet away, and after a few feet the world was completely dark again.

Then a demon emerged. It was small, perhaps around 2 feet tall. It was grotesque, alive but a faceless blob. The demon scared me, and tempted me to turn around and run away. In that moment I realized that the demon was my fear. So instead of turning and running (like I had at the beginning of the vision), I picked up the demon. I placed it inside my torso, and enveloped it in love. Holding the fear was uncomfortable, but I sat with the discomfort. After what felt like several minutes, I learned what the fear was supposed to teach me (metaphorically: no actual lesson emerged then), and then it dissolved. The demon was gone, I no longer felt fear, and I felt peace and calm again.

Several other demons emerged, from all sides in front of me; this time larger (but still small, say 4-5 feet tall), with faces. Several approached me, while others remaining further off in the distance, in the shadows at the edge of the light (the light had grown in strength; I could now see a dozen or two feet away). I learned that these were not demons, but in fact people gripped by fear. Fear had turned these people into demons (almost certainly like I had been at the beginning of my vision). I then learned that the demons who approached me were in fact drawn by my light. My light pulled them in despite their being otherwise gripped in fear. After a few moments basking in my light, these demons morphed into people.

The demons off in the shadows remained in the shadows. It occurred to me that they were not ready to encounter the light. I became aware of the possibility that they might not ever be ready, and that I needed to be at peace with their decisions. My job was to bring the light into the world, let others decide whether to receive it or not, and be at peace with all of it. I didn’t need to understand why (e.g. why was it not my responsibility to ‘help’ those demons off in the shadows? I have codependent tendencies, so it was uncomfortable to sense I had something of value, but couldn’t offer it to everyone).

I resumed my journey toward my fuzzy destination. While I still could not see the whole path, I could see the path directly ahead, and sensed that more of the path would illuminate as my light continued to grow. It occurred to me I would call on others to join me to illuminate parts of the path I could not see alone. I sensed that the challenges would grow, but that by following my light that I would be prepared to face them.

Finally, after awhile on this journey, I discovered that my ego had come along with me, and unbeknownst to me had become huge. I was horrified: after receiving so much love and peace and grace, how could I allow my ego to grow out of control? I panicked, wanting to go back to the beginning of my journey and start over, so that I could proceed on the journey without my ego. I sensed that my ego had led me off my path; I was still headed generally toward my destination, but had stopped following the path laid out for me. I felt overwhelmed at my failure. Ultimately I accepted that I am human and therefore fallible, so I will make mistakes; but now I can trust in my learning and my light to help me find my way back to my path when I get lost.

I said earlier that this particular vision was timely. What I have since come to understand is that quitting my job was the plunge into darkness, and that the fear of death (which I’ve discussed in prior letters) is the first demon to appear after my eyes adjusted to the darkness. (The destination is too fuzzy to explain today; I anticipate sharing more later).

Because I understood that the fear of death was the first demon from my vision, I understood what I needed to do (envelop it in love). For whatever reason, I couldn’t do that for many days (weeks?). I was gripped with fear. I don’t exactly know why, but I was.

On three consecutive nights last week I woke up in the middle of the night with discomfort in my stomach. (I believe this is related to the recurring heartburn I mentioned previously; it’s improving but not fully healed). On the third night, I decided to engage with my discomfort and fear. I sat with the discomfort, and explored it deeply. Instead of vague sensations, I started to notice the sensations specifically. I attempted locating the sensations as accurately as I could in the body, and being as precise in my observation of the sensations as I could. I noticed that by replacing my reflexive and instinctive fear of the discomfort with curiosity, the pain subsided dramatically. What I was feeling was not particularly painful, just deeply uncomfortable. The ‘pain’ was more an artifact of fear than any real physical sensation.

After a long while, the idea came to me that I need to write about my visions (thus this post); I needed to more fully embrace and reveal this aspect of myself. I can’t exactly explain why, though I suspect it will enable my light to grow, thus illuminating the path ahead, and attracting those who want to experience the light (per the vision). Said more simply, I assume it’s my body and spirit calling me to be more fully who I am, and who I am meant to be.

After sensing that I processed the learning that I needed to write about my visions, I asked my discomfort if there was anything else. The idea came to me that I am not meant to kill my ego. My original interpretation (based more on rational examination than true inward exploration) of my fear of death was that my ego was the entity who was afraid that I was going to kill it. Indeed, perhaps subconsciously remembering my vision, I assumed that I was meant to kill my ego now, in order to avoid it growing out of control later (e.g. attempting to apply what I learned from the vision, avoiding the need for the ‘do-over’ I so desperately wanted at the end of the vision).

Next I imagined my ego sitting down with my True Self, the self connected to the Divine. My True Self welcomed the ego, explained that he was welcome, but that the True Self was in charge. The ego challenged the True Self, “who put you in charge?”. The True Self merely responded, “I am in charge”. The words weren’t compelling or convincing, but the ego recognized the True Self’s authority of presence and submitted.

After reconciling with my ego, I asked my body again if there was anything else. Up until that moment, I had been sitting in substantial discomfort for about two hours. In that moment, the discomfort continued for several seconds as I sat with it. And then, it moved, and then it dissolved. I felt more peace and calm than I had in weeks, and I rolled over and went back to sleep.

I am not yet sure whether I have learned all that I am meant to from the discomfort, but the recent signs are positive. I’m very curious to experience what happens next: if my vision continues to serve as a form of prophesy, next I will be engaged by demons who are really just seeking the light; and from there I will start building a community interested in my destination. I do not look forward to discovering my ego has grown huge; fortunately I sense that time is a ways (perhaps even years) off.

I don’t know what I expect you to gain from this letter. I do hope it helps you to know me better. Mostly, I am just trying to honor my vision, which really means that I am just trying to be true to myself. I guess if there is any lesson I want you to learn, it is that I hope you too learn how to be true to yourselves (and that you understand that it’s never too late to begin your journey on your own path).

I love you,

Dad