Date: 30-11-2020

Introduction 26-01-2024:

This dream came to me about 2 weeks after my brother started to shun me. It would predict a few future events, but those predictions came in quite a cryptical and magical format. It was a very powerful dream, and it left a deep impression on me. It also helped me cope with the sudden change in the relationship between me and my brother. At the end I will add an analysis or aftermath, but I didn’t write it at the time back in 2020, but instead when I translated it into English years later. I think I now have a much clearer understanding of the messages in this dream than I had back then.

But before I proceed to the dream itself, I think it is best I provide some more backstory. This dream is one in a series of dreams that all seem to depict what is happening to me spiritually, and where my path will eventually take me to. The volcano dream was the first in that series, the one after was about me retrieving my daughter, and after that the one where I tried and failed to exorcize the evil out of my mother. Then there is the dream where I was an Angel of death, which I never made a decent draft for, sadly. I think we can consider the dream below the next in line in that series of dreams. It is the first dream I have not shared with my brother because our contact ceased. After this dream, many more followed, and I think ‘Journey to the Source’ is another important one in that row of dreams that depicts what is happening in my family affairs in this world of ours on the spiritual plane.

But first, what happened after the cremation of my dad? I kept in contact with my mother through occasional phone calls. With my dad gone her income had been cut. She no longer would receive as much money from the pension fund but “only” 70%, and she didn’t have a job. She complained about this a lot. Note that my dad and mom are almost 10 years apart in age, her being the younger one. She wasn’t eligible for retirement money yet when my dad died, but I am quite sure he had a lot of savings. My dad was good with money. I am confident he left her with enough to sit out the years until she would be old enough for retirement funds, and with 70% of the pension fund she should’ve able to make ends meet with ease. My brother and sister and I kept in contact through chat, and often times we would talk about the funeral, which we were all sure was supposed to have been a burial and not a cremation. I suspect that the fact a cremation costs about 7k where a burial costs 5 times that much played a part in why his body was cremated and not buried. We had no say in it. It was all decided when we were informed. With my brother still in China, trying to get back, and me slowly distancing myself from my mom again, my sister had the balls to confront her a few times about this cremation, and my mom’s plans for his remains. This is something I have never done, by the way.

Our mother had maintained that this was his will, and also had gone back and forth towards my sister on how she (my mom) would proceed. When backed into a corner mom would maintain that she was the main heir, which she stated meant he trusted everything to her to decide over, which she stated also included his remains. A few weeks after the cremation – which took place early September – my brother would finally set foot on Dutch soil again, and he eventually would visit our mom. He also gathered his courage to face her in the forest before he went to see her, and eventually knocked on her door to pass her his condolences, and talk about things. He too would confront her with the decision to cremate dad’s remains and not bury him, and she had remained mute. She couldn’t answer him. He detailed his account with her to me, revealing his own anger about the situation. All her children agreed it wasn’t right. This cremation was a farce. In the weeks following this visit my mother changed what she said was supposed to happen with his ashes. She told many conflicting things. I can’t get into everything, but this I want to share.

Perhaps also due to the implications of the volcano dream I detailed to her, but probably mostly because my sister and brother both had given her a piece of their mind about how wrong that cremation was, my mother changed the destination of the ashes. She claimed she never intended to keep them, instead saying they were supposed to end up on the grave after being in her possession for a few weeks. She herself was going to put the vase on our grandparents’ grave. Weeks went by and she changed her story into a version where she would do it eventually, which she later changed again into a version where we (the children) could do that after she dies. That later changed again in a version where both their ashes would end up on said grave. Fast forward to 3.5 years in the future and right now, as I write this, those ashes remain in her possession, and I don’t think she will ever let go of them in any way or form. I predict that she will never allow us to see her separate from him, and when her time comes she will express her desire to have her ashes mixed with his, so there will never ever even be a chance we can visit and pay tribute to the one without the other.

This isn’t all she’s been conjuring conflicting intentions and plans about. She performed the same mental dance concerning her plans with the house. She had given us (the children) all kinds of hints she planned to sell the house. When she first expressed her intend to sell, she had exclaimed to my sister that “everything in this house breaths our dad’s essence“. As if that is a bad thing? She would later add to it she found the house too big. She couldn’t keep it neat and clean all by herself. She needed a smaller house. I think that maybe she felt watched because she knew what she had done with his remains was against his core wishes. My dad was born in that house, lived in it his entire life up to his last breath, and even died inside that same house. If his spirit is going to be anywhere, it would be here. You should know the house is indeed quite big, and therefore worth quite a lot of money. She (mom) had stated that dad had been adamant about her not having to get a job after his passing as to bridge the financial gab between his death and her being eligible for retirement money. I do not know if this is true. She claimed he also had said she could stay and live inside the house for the rest of her remaining live. This sounds like something dad would say. Yet, she kept pushing her intend to sell the house to everyone, citing various reasons. The latest reason she would state to us was the financial reason. She claimed she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to make ends meet. She made it sound like she didn’t have a choice.

So now, all of a sudden, she couldn’t afford to live here any more. But she couldn’t even admit this was her own idea. Instead, she named a host of people that had “advised” her to sell the house and live off the funds. But did these people really say that? The way she operated was that she would talk to other people, and illicit their opinion on the matter, and any and all that had said anything positive about the prospects of selling the house actually “had advised her to sell it”. That’s how she worked people and twisted their words. Mom tried to work my sister to agree that selling the house was her only option. My sister never budged, and didn’t give her the response my mom was fishing for. On the phone my mother tried a few times to get me to approve to this too, but she presented it in such a way she actually “didn’t want to, but had no choice, so what would I do in her situation?” It is the reason why I eventually stopped calling and cut ties with her, again, but at the time of this dream I was still in contact with her. Mom was fishing for an ‘okay’. When she had introduced the financial card, she was just trying desperately to get our approval, so she could tell others “her children had said it was okay”. The reason I eventually cut ties again was because I didn’t want to become part of yet another one of her games. She would just never stop being like this. She would always play games.

I’ve distanced myself from it now, but back when this was all fresh and new, it angered me greatly, as this dream below clearly illustrates. Briefly I had intended to just bury things my dad gave me behind the grave of his parents, giving him his desired burial, spiritually. But my brother and sister both disliked that initiative, and I felt I could not just do something like that without at least their approval. We are after all – no matter what happens – in this together, as the dream below also illustrates very clearly. Almost two weeks before I had the dream I detail below, I dreamt I was an Angel of death, about to collect people “like our mother” or perhaps I did have to collect her (it wasn’t entirely clear in that dream) but my brother had criticised me for it, telling me that in his opinion this dream showed I harboured too much hate for her, and that it wasn’t all warranted. I took it as him criticising me for having had the dream itself, and I didn’t understand why he was critical of me for having had a dream that involved the negative feelings I had for her. I don’t choose to have these dreams, neither does he. I thought we both perfectly understood where these feelings came from. What I suspect happened I will keep private, but I do have some idea of what motivated him in the end, which wasn’t one single thing.

In a twist of fate the decisions we all made eventually resulted in my brother now living with our mom. I wonder what it is like for him to live there, again, with her.

This dream showed me and my family what might be on our horizon in a far away future when all of us are no longer living on Earth. So let’s dive in.

Purgatory:

This dream started at a party, somewhere at the street where my childhood house stands. It took place in the future, but I don’t know how far. I was a supernatural being now, who had come back to this place. Though for me I think maybe hundreds of years could’ve passed since, I think the way the street looked it might’ve been 50 years into the future. From my perspective, I had lived through so many more things since the happenings on that street. The street itself didn’t change too much. It mostly meant that I knew none of the people who lived there now, as after so many years people had moved or died. In this dream my wife D did not exist. I think she had been dead a long time, and we were not spiritually together. I had come back for a specific reason, but I was fooling around at first. I wanted to check out this world as it was now. Even though I was now a supernatural being, I took the form of a human male. One of the reasons for me to come back was the allure to all the female beauty that resided on Earth.

I didn’t want anyone to know what I was or know I had all kinds of supernatural abilities, so I tried to keep a low profile. Walking around the neighbourhood it looked like there was some kind of festival or celebration going on at the street where I grew up; every house was throwing a party. At the moving service there was a big party in one of their big garages. I entered and it soon turned out I was the only one there who didn’t know anyone else. All other people there sat in groups around tables, and people were looking at me. A lot of pretty ladies, too. But they didn’t look very acceptive at me, so I decided to go visit another party. In an attempt to impress the ladies I jumped up from my seat and landed near the jacket racks all the way on the other side of the garage. It was kind of a reflex, but while I did it I though “SHIT!” to myself as I realised no other human being would be able to perform this stunt. I did it out of habit. People we mumbling. I heard: “Show-off..!” I was lucky. They weren’t on to me. I didn’t want people to think I was a vampire or something. They thought I was just showing off. A few ladies were whispering to each other how impressive they thought that was. It boosted my ego. Though, I headed out before anyone could ask any questions.

I took my coat from the rack, which was a matrix-style long trench coat, made from silver-golden wire with dark black undertones. A typical Neo coat, but also quite a posh classy gentlemen’s coat. I left and moved on to the next party that seemed interesting. I walked all the way towards the row of houses where the old house where I grew up in stood, and found an interesting party near one of the neighbouring houses. The old house of the family TB. They didn’t live there any more though, obviously. In that house now lived a friend of mine. It wasn’t anyone I think I know now, but in the dream this friend and I shared a similar friendship to the one I have in real life with a long-time friend called RT. He was also a bit elderly, and he was so happy to see me. He wore a blue coloured wool sweater, even though it was clearly summer. He was throwing one of his hippy like parties. I had to go pee, so I asked him if I could use his toilet. “Of course! Come in!” In a house filled with partying teens and tweens I searched for his toilet in vain. I couldn’t find it. While searching I saw a beautiful lady. I really wanted to get to know her, but I still needed to relieve myself. In his garden I found a place with a little privacy, but that chick left this party to go to the party two doors over, at my old house.

Quickly I followed her, even leaping from tree to tree like Tarzan, but I again realised this was not something humans could just do. I again got positive and negative responses. People were getting on to me. Even worse; I wore no shoes, and no pants! And my special trench coat was also not on me. I had left those items in my friends backyard when I got ready to pee. I leaped back to that house. It looked different now. The front door and kitchen were now where the living room used to be. I saw my friend at the kitchen table, and his front door was open. I walked in and I just honestly explained what had happened. He thought it was hilarious, and allowed me access to his house to retrieve my lost items. In his garden I quickly found my pants and coat. Couldn’t find my shoes there though. I put on my pants and coat, and went looking for these shoes. They were nowhere to be found, and even my friend helped look for them and couldn’t find them either. It was getting late, and I still had that pretty girl in the back of my mind. But I also really wanted to check out my old house, see how it all changed. And maybe in the process of indulging my curiosity I could see if I had a chance with that girl. So I just took my loss and went without shoes. I went out through the back of the house, passing my friend’s neighbours, who turned out to be the people from the garden centre “Flower Dream”. The wife greeted me with a friendly and uplifting smile. They sat between sandbags and plastic tarpaulins against the sun and wind. They looked poor, but they were clearly happy.

It was now really quiet outside. All noises had stopped as the evening was nearing its end. Dusk was setting in as I walked towards the old house, but it seemed that the party had already ended there. And not just that; it looked like something had happened. There was an ambulance parked out front, and a few police cars, all with their signal lights flashing. A police ribbon cornered off the premise of the house. The last guests left the house now, and the pretty girl had already left before I got there. I did saw a friend of that girl leave, and she was equally beautiful. She was going to walk home all by herself. The host of the party – a man who looked much like a younger version of my dad (it could’ve been him, but maybe not) stood on the street in front of the house, and asked me if I wanted to walk her home. “Of course!” This would be my chance to impress one of the ladies of Earth. I’d just teleport her to where she wanted to go. I called out her name but she didn’t hear me. I wanted to catch up with her, but that meant I had to either go round the police ribbons or go under them and perhaps be stopped by the police, or perform supernatural feats while police was near me. I thought maybe I could convince the police I came from this party but had forgotten my shoes, so I crossed the closed off area, but while walking I noticed I was actually already wearing my shoes. Really weird. Maybe I had put them on and not registered it? That girl was now out of sight around the corner.

From the house now rushed two nurses with a mobile hospital bed – like a stretcher, but more fancy. On the bed laid my mother, very weak and barely conscious. An IV dangled above her left arm. Her eyes had sunken deep into her skull. “What happened?” I asked the nurses? They didn’t reply. Neither did any of the police officers that stood there. They weren’t allowed to tell me anything. I then asked that guy that looked like younger dad, and he said: “She had to make a decision, and it went sideways.” It was such a vague answer. I kind of knew what it was about, but I wanted more info. I then saw that beautiful girl I was going to walk home again. She had walked back for some reason. I asked her if she knew what had happened, as the nurses were putting the bed with my mom on it into the back of the ambulance. She replied: “Some men came with the documents for the house. Had she signed them the house would have been out of her hands. When she had to sign, she suddenly collapsed.” From the house now exited 3 men in black suits, all holding in one hand a black case containing the supposed “documents” of the house. It was unclear whether those documents were signed by her or not. Somehow in this dream, the documents were both signed and unsigned at the same time. These men did not look happy at all though. I thanked the girl for telling me what had happened. I now better understood the situation.

Suddenly behind me appeared my brother and sister; M and J. They too were higher beings, and they had come to this time and place for what was going to happen. I remembered this was the reason why I had come to Earth, too. The whole area slowly changed when they appeared. It was transforming. The sky became cloudy, with a red-greyish hue. It became grim. And all this happened with no sound. It wasn’t just quite; it was completely muted. The police cars and officers were suddenly gone, and so was their ribbon. The girl was gone, younger not-dad was gone. Also all people that were there were gone, like they were never there. Only the ambulance still stood there, while the environment slowly kept transforming. But then that ambulance silently started moving away, also mute, until it drove out of sight. There we were, the three of us. All of us higher beings. Our gathering was a reunion of something that was ancient. Something like a historic event. This kind of gathering had not taken place on Earth for a long while. Each of us had a unique function in the world. A task. All three of us had taken a path that diverted from the others, and that had its purpose. But we all came back here especially for this event. We formed a circle, the three of us, in front of the house still. We looked at each other, and communicated telepathically. The scene too was still completely mute. Our communication wasn’t a back and forth, but it was a shared consciousness. I remember the thoughts that we had. They were very short and to the point. “This has priority now.” was the first thought we all shared. We all agreed on this. The next thought we shared was: “Confrontation.” Again, we were all in alignment.

The world around us had changed into what I think was purgatory. It was dark and grim, red undertones everywhere, just simply an unpleasant place to be. In this dream, this was how our mother experienced her reality. The world had not really transformed into this, but the transformation was from our perspective how our spiritual journey looked like to get into her reality. This was a known fact to the three of us. And this transition was now finished. The next step was for us to teleport into the house. In the hallway we found our mom’s soul, on the ground in front of the front door, sitting with her back against the heat radiator. She looked like I’d imagine someone looked if they had been locked up in some kind of foreign 3rd world prison for years, and who’s will had been broken by abusive guards. She just sat there, motionless, on the ground, head down, sad looking. The house was dark. What ever gave it its beauty in the past was no longer present here. We could not communicate telepathically with mom, so we used spoken words to communicate with her, while keeping telepathic contact with each other as we attempted to converse with her. Though she had sat there with a completely desolated demeanour, she suddenly sprung up when we decided to show ourselves to her. We all realised she had initiated her pretence routine. This wasn’t her real self, but a shield she used. She “played” a happy confident version of herself, but she was all but happy and confident. All three of us knew we had to dig through her walls of bullshit before we would break through her barriers and have a real conversation with her. My sister started first: “Mom, what happened here?”

She replied completely in her play: “Yeah, those men came, and I had to sign documents to sell the house of your father, but how can I leave this all behind? I couldn’t do that, right?” The three of us formed the circle again, and plotted our next move telepathically. My brother asked the next question: “But who invited those men then?” Her play continued: “It were Gerard and Angeline, but also Peter (the accountant). They told me I should sell the house. But I cannot just sell the house, can I?” Again we formed the circle. She wasn’t showing us her real self. We had to keep digging. So we asked her the next question, she answered, we formed a circle. This went on for a while. But our mom kept beating us around the bush, going round and round and round in circles, never daring to name the issue at hand. But we pressed on and we had a slight breakthrough. I asked her: “What needs to happen for you to continue to live here?” She answered: “Well, I would need to get a job, but your dad was adamant about me not having to get a job when he died. It was his wish for me not to have to get a job. But it was also his wish for me to keep the house, so no matter what I do I can never meet his wishes.” She had almost talked herself into a corner, but she found an escape by claiming she couldn’t do as dad wanted cause keeping one promise meant breaking the other promise.

Again, we formed a circle. We were not breaking through her barriers. M and J wanted to leave it. It wasn’t time yet. She wasn’t ready. But I didn’t want to give up yet. I took her on alone, while M and J stood there, looking slightly frightened, but also visibly curious if I could defeat this game of cat and mouse with her. A barrage of sharp questions fired from my mouth.

[Me]: “How about his wishes to be buried?”
[Mom]: “He didn’t want to be bu…”
[Me]: (interjecting her) “His whole life he has told us he wanted to be buried in the grave with his parents, visits the grave a few times a year, brushing clean the stones, planting new plants. He even puts it in his will! But now you want to tell me all three of us have misunderstood that?!”
[Mom]: “No, Willem. You’re right but he changed his mind.”
[Me]: “Oh really?!”
[Mom]: “Yeah. Really.”
[Me]: “Then where is the proof of this?”
[Mom]: “He had told me! YOU chose not to be there at the end, so that’s why he didn’t tell you.” She had managed to squeezing in another reproach to me.
[Me]: “Oh but how convenient! Right. We weren’t there. And he only told you, and nobody else. Riiiight.”
[Mom]: (visibly now realising how unbelievable her story was) “…Perhaps it’s convenient but that’s what happened.”

I was slowly breaking through her defences with every reaction. My brother and sister were still watching this unfold with much interest, looking at me after each of her answers, and with every response from me gave me a look of approval, as to confirm that, yes, that was the best follow-up question. I was good at this game of hers, until I hit my next barrier.

[Me]: “And now you suddenly decided to bring those ashes to that grave still? What’s the deal with that then? I thought that this wasn’t supposed to happen until your eventual death. Can you explain that? I thought he didn’t want his remains to go to that grave because nobody would visit, so how does that make any sense?”
[Mom]: (looked at me sad and angry) “Yeah, well, I just couldn’t keep those ashes with me any more.”
[Me]: “Just like you couldn’t continue to live in this house any more? Such nonsense. Tell me something, mom. Are you unable to live here because you’re afraid that there is a soul wondering around in this house that is angry with you, or is this about money?”
[Mom]: (back into her play) “Oh, no. I am not afraid of his soul. I have done nothing wrong. He left everything to me.”
[Me]: “Ah, right. So it is about money. Well, I am glad to know the truth. And thank you, by the way, for being honest for a change. I really appreciate your honesty on this matter.”

I replied sarcastically. And I had performed a classical logical fallacy by creating a straw-man argument. My sarcastic remark came forth from my frustration of her continued denial of the reality she had created for herself, and which she had pulled us in when we were in our old roles as her children. She was so good at manoeuvring around real questions with truth evading answers, and I just couldn’t get through. M and J were right. She is not ready to face herself. But my sarcasm had struck a nerve with her. She had let go of her game for a moment, and we could see she had let her anger subside and was now only sad. She looked at me so sad. There was a brief moment of silence, as all three of us looked at her, and she looked back at us with a deeply saddened face. We formed another circle, and communicated. We were all in agreement that all her answers she had given were not truthful but means to dodge the issue. It had all been a play from the moment she saw us, until my sarcastic remark thanking her for her honesty. This was a new phase. One we had not reached before. We were now all a little sad, and remained quiet for a while to let the new phase sink in. I broke the silence and took the initiative again.

I said: “Mom, you live in a bubble. A bubble.” With my index fingers I drew a snow globe around her, and it briefly appeared and disappeared as I had drawn it. “You see? A bubble.” Every time I said the word ‘bubble’ I drew the bubble again, and it would temporarily appear again, but each time it would take longer to vanish. “Are you seeing it? A bubble! You live in this bubble, right here. This is the bubble in which you live. Are you seeing it? In a bubble!” I kept drawing the globe and eventually it would no longer vanish, and she sat inside an actual bubble. It actually looked like a giant glass dome of a snow globe, but the dome was made of energy. It was like she had been captured, as if she was an ornament in someone’s collection.

I continued: “In this bubble your truths apply. But those truths have nothing – not even in the slightest bit – to do with the truths outside of that bubble. And we (while pointing at my brother and sister, and myself) have left that bubble. We all chose to live outside of your bubble. Not because of dad, not because of you even, but because we wanted to be freed from the truths that dictated our lives in that bubble, and to live in the truths outside the bubble.” Mom started crying, lowered herself to the ground, and hung her head. I took a short break and calmed myself down, took a knee, and calmly continued: “The person that lives inside this bubble now, I don’t know her. None of us know her. I have no idea who she is. You don’t even know her.”

But now mom sprung up and tried to hug me as now all of a sudden the energy barrier of the bubble was gone, but I quickly got up. Her sudden move actually scared me, but she got up herself and kept trying to hug me in a panicky way. I grabbed both her arms at the wrists as she kept trying to launch into me, shouting: “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry HELP ME HELP ME!” But I couldn’t. It was so terribly disheartening to see her like this, but I couldn’t let her in. I was afraid. It reminded me of what happened in the dream I had where I tried to cast out her evil side. I was afraid this was part of her shtick. Part of her games, still. I kept fighting her attempts to hug me, shouting back at her: “I don’t know you! I do not know you!” My brother came in between and took her from me. It looked like he was about to give her the hug she was desperately requesting, but eventually decided not to and kept her some distance from him too, though a little closer than I had held her from me.

While he was wrestling with our hysterically crying mother, I took a breath and calmed down again. I calmly said to her: “I don’t trust you any more, mom. And I don’t know if I ever will be able to trust you again.” My brother – still wrestling with mom – shouted: “Oh come on, man. Of course you will.” He thought it was harsh of me to state what I had stated, though still not hugging her himself. But while he had said that his struggle with mom turned into some kind of weird dance with her. She was still trying to hug him, and he was still trying to keep her away, while also trying to give her some slag. And now it looked like they were performing an elegant Waltz. Neither of them wanted to dance, but this was the result of their interaction. And my mother noticed it and smiled and laughed, though in a psychotic way. A really psychotic laugh, but it was better than what state she had been in before.

The two of them continued this strange and awkward dance together, through the hallway, through the kitchen, back through the hallway. My sister and I looked at this and then looked at each other. We both saw doubt in each other’s eyes. We recognised each other’s pain, and our mutual doubt. We were unsure whether we had actually come closer to achieving our goal, or if we had been set back. Had M discovered by accident how we could get through to her, or was this her latest and newest way to pull us into another of her drama plays? That’s when I woke up.

When I woke up I had the Dutch word “vagevuur” in my mind, but I had no idea what it meant. The first thing I did was look it up, and I found the English translation for the word, which is a word I did know: Purgatory. The description given with the word: “A place in between Heaven and hell, where souls will go who have died in friendship with God, but without being able to clear their spiritual debts. A place where tainted souls can be cleansed before gaining access to heaven.” It became the obvious title for this dream.

 

Analysis and aftermath 26-01-2024:

Though the first scenes of this dream felt unimportant, it showed me a version of myself getting back to Earth and diving into the pleasures of physical life. It’s the part of me I’ve never really explored actually. I’m no lady chaser, but I do appreciate female beauty. When I returned I was a superbeing and that I think gave me the courage to explore this side of me. I think I knew why I returned to Earth, but in the dream it seemed I put it on a side track and forgot all about my task. What worried me at first was that D was not at all part of this version of me. It was as if she no longer existed. But later I came to realise it might just as well mean she has zero part to play in what the dream details. Because she isn’t part of that, I had no breaks on my behaviour in that regard, other than the breaks I myself forced when it came to exposing myself as a non-human.

My mom being brought into an ambulance, which peacefully drove into the distance, might as well be a future event that is part of her death. It was peaceful in a way, especially because it was all mute. That whole scene was mute as the environment changed, which was a really surreal experience, actually. It gave the scene the right amount of weight, and it was clear where the focus of the dream was.

In the dream, it seemed she had died alone. She was surrounded by strangers, who were just performing tasks within the system. Perhaps she will eventually die at that very spot inside the house were we found her disembodied soul.

My brother and sister and I all had taken divergent paths in our (spiritual) lives. I think it means we all have different things to learn, and that means we will eventually no longer accompany each other on our paths. Our lives will diverge. But no matter however far we grow apart, I think this dream shows us we will always be spiritually linked through the path we once shared. And it also seems each of us has a part to play in the fate of our mother’s soul.

In purgatory a soul can be cleansed, but only if it wishes to do what it needs to do, which is to self-reflect. Self-reflecting for a spirit under the membrane of good and evil in the spiritual trench is effectively casting out their evil to become the good which evil mirrors. If you don’t understand this, it probably means you haven’t read the scrolls yet.

Me and my siblings moved and thought in unison at first. Everything we chose to do was agreed upon by all. But then I moved out of sync with them. Perhaps this shows me where exactly my struggle within myself differs from theirs. Perhaps it shows I have the illusion I can speed up a spiritual process through outsmarting those who are struggling with choice. I can’t. All I did was break her. I should’ve let it go.

I think my brother and sister were right when they communicated our mom wasn’t ready. I think what we were doing was trying to see if she would choose to be honest with us, allowing her to become honest with herself simultaneously. When I pressed on the result wasn’t that. I was inpatient.

I think the spirit of our mother was stuck in that place, unable to move on until such time she would be able to confront herself. We were there to aid her in her spiritual liberation, and if she would set herself free we would be able to heal our own remaining pains from that life together.

My inpatients with her didn’t stem from strength or (over)confidence. Yes, I knew perfectly well how to play her game, and equalled her in our back and forth, and our back and forth did reveal to us a lot of things we would otherwise not know. But it revealed mostly things about myself. It revealed where my pain resided.

Even though I pressed on about how she had disgraced the remains and wishes of our dad/her husband, I was actually mad at how she had damaged us all, including dad. I wanted recognition for the pain she had caused, so I myself could heal and move on. But she could not give me that recognition as she herself didn’t recognise the pain she had caused to herself too by dealing all the pain she dealt to all during our physical lives. She doesn’t see what I ask her to relate to me. I was asking the impossible, and it turned her mad.

We are all bound by pain. We share that pain. That was still the case in this dream, which took place in the far future. I think that when my brother and sister concluded she wasn’t ready meant we had to leave her there for another long lasting period – decades, maybe even centuries – until such time we would think she might be ready to try again.

There is love here, between us all, but there is a lack of self-love in all of us. This caused me to hasten and press on where I should’ve just let it go to try another time. As long as our self-love is not restored, we will not be able to help her ascend.

As long as she remains a tortured soul, our shared pain will always overshadow our shared love. As long as our shared love is overshadowed by our shared pain, this shared love cannot grow and develop to its full potential. We all have work to do, especially me.

There is only one person in this gathering that did not stand out in any negative way. My sister was actually quite balanced throughout the whole dream. She didn’t press on, there was no denial, she didn’t engage in some weird dance, didn’t speak for or against anyone. The only thing she did that could hint at any inner work left to do in this dream was that she allowed herself to be indulged by me, trying to break through mom’s barriers. She was the most balanced of any of the people featured in this dream, with maybe the exception of my friend in the blue wool sweater, who I think could be (one of) my guiding spirit(s) who sometimes pops up in my dreams. Any way. My sister doesn’t realise it now, but I think she will become the most balanced spirit of us all.

Our dad was completely absent from this story. I am unsure why that is. There was this younger looker-like, but either that was a looker-like or it was a version of him from before we (his children) were born. Maybe even before he met her, which would be a version of him who is innocent in all that happened. There was no obvious spiritual connection between me and that younger guy. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t recognise him as my dad. Maybe older dad wasn’t there because he had opted out of it, or maybe he himself wasn’t ready for this either, and the next phase after mom is able to be honest with herself does involve him. Or maybe he has let go of trying to heal her. Only time will tell.

My brother ended up dancing with her, but there was something really wrong with it. He took on this dance with her by accident, but it was caused by my refusal to hug our mom. Actually, if I hadn’t pressed on at all, she wouldn’t have tried to hug me like that, period. I wonder if this is a metaphor for my dream where I was an Angel of death. If I had not told him that dream, or if in the dream I had opted out of concerning myself with our mother’s judgement, maybe my brother wouldn’t have found himself defending her to me. Or maybe if I hadn’t voiced any of my grievances about her towards him, he would not have excused her behaviour to me.

This dance is perhaps a metaphor that illustrates the dynamic between the two of them now. In the dream he felt pity for her, and didn’t want her to suffer. But he also didn’t want her too close to him. My mother enjoyed this unmeant dance that came forth from their interaction, and began laughing like a psychopath. My brother couldn’t embrace her fully, but also felt too guilty to push her away. He just went with what that turned into.

He was right about one thing though. I will eventually learn to trust her again. But I think it is going to take me a very long time before I am ready for that. I am distrustful of her, and stubborn. And I think that my brother understands this better than anyone else. Cause as he might have taken her over from me, he decline to embrace her in the dream for the same reason I did. Something in him still doesn’t know which part of her is real, and which part of her is fake.

The things my mother screamed to me at the end were her only honest words. Deep down inside she is sorry. She really is. I forced her to admit it, and then declined to embrace her. It seems I am not ready for this phase myself either. My words at the end were honest too. I do not trust her, because I don’t know her. Not really, anyway. I know her games intimately well, but I don’t know her. The part of me that isn’t ready for reconciliation with her is ironically the part of me where I take after her. I think I have more in common with her than I care to admit. My pain needs more time to heal, too.

This dream has shown me so much of my inner struggle. It showed me I cannot force her to confront herself, not without getting my siblings caught in another complicated dynamic with our shared pains. The feelings of each of us, and all our individual wishes are all valid. But we best only proceed together on the things we can all mutually agree upon. Anything that falls outside of mutual agreement is part of our own personal struggle.

I think what this dream offered me most above everything else is a view of my future flaws. This provides me with a chance to learn from mistakes before making them. I can now focus in this life to try and recognise this flaw within me so that when the moment comes I will not make decisions based on my fear, but instead on the wisdoms that were shown to me through this dream.