This next happening actually ties in with research sited in Hello From Heaven by Bill and Judy Guggenheim. Research has been done on the frequency and types of ADC experiences people have. A common theme is seeing your loved one on the other side of a body of water. I was very surprised when I read this. Mine has a little twist because being a longtime veteran of lucid dreaming; I decided to cross the water. I gather from “Hello From Heaven” that most people do not attempt this – they either “know” that they cannot cross it or are afraid to cross it.
At this point we’d been cleaning out my parents’ house for several months. It took forever and was extremely unpleasant. In addition to the usual who-gets-what conflicts there is the strain of finding some place to take all of the stuff. The primary source of misery for me was the early childhood memories getting stirred up. One trait we seem to pass down is the ability to remember things from early infancy. So here I am cleaning out drawers, and on the bottoms of the drawers are little foil stars that I stuck there when I was about 2 years old. And not only can I remember that I did this, I remember why and lots of other things that were going on at the time – this is TMI when you are trying to clean out a house and cope with a recent death. The only analogy I could come up with to describe what this was like is having to dig up your own corpse and decide which parts of it should be sent to the Goodwill.
It was in the middle of this struggle that I found myself standing in my parents’ house in a lucid dream. Usually the house is exactly like it was when the lived there, but in this dream it was partially cleaned out. I started get very upset. I could sense that my mother was there but I couldn’t see her at the time.
“This is awful!” I lamented. “There’s still enough stuff here that it seems like your house. I can’t stand doing this anymore!”
I looked over towards the kitchen door and she was standing there. She didn’t say anything, but smiled at me, opened the door, and walked out. Naturally I followed. Only instead of the deck being on the other side of that door (as it is in physical reality) there was a meadow. At the edge of the meadow was a small river or large stream. On the other side of it was a tree with a wooden porch swing hanging from the branches. My mother was sitting on this swing.
I walked along the bank of the little river until I was almost directly across from her. There was a place that was a little bit narrower so I decided to wade across. The water was warm like bath water! It actually felt really good. It was moving and felt a lot like a hot tub. I climbed out on the other side wet up to my thighs. Then I sat down next to her on the swing. She shot me this mischievous smile and said, “I can’t believe you actually crossed that.”
“You know I would have crossed the 100 foot deep river to sit here with you,” I said. She knew what I meant – as a child I used to dream about this river that was 100 feet deep. We talked about it a lot back in the day.
After that we just sat there. It was timeless and it was perfect. Nobody said anything because there was no need to. Eventually I woke up and felt much better in a lasting way after this experience.
So I guess the take home lesson is this: if you have a dream like this, come on in, the water’s great!