Have to disagree there Turk, about those we meet in dreams. I'm pretty sure that most people/beings/entities we meet in everynight dreams are produced by our imagination, and are merely symbolic of our fears/hopes/worries/aspirations and so forth. However, as a psychic medium (and I qite understand anyones skepticism... I was myself, and a vicious one!) I have sometimes met people and characters who are actually 'spirits', and hav eproved it from what they have said and told me. It is very, very, weird and often highly confusing, but here's how I think (and was told!) it works. You make the dream, the place, the surroundings etc... which, on rare occasions, for certain purposes, can be 'visited' by the spirits of the dead. Usually they are friends and family members, but not always.
I'll give some examples, which might amuse you, but are, I firmly believe, examples of 'visitations. to my dreams by spirit.
First, and one of my first ever lucid dreams, occured when I was 19, long before I had any idea I was a medium. I was driving my car near the local Tube Station, and saw, walking along the road, my friend Nobel, who had suddenly died a few months previously. I'd attended his funeral, seen his body in the Mosque, and watched his coffin being buried. I stopped the car and greeted him... he replied wirh a big grin (we were good friends, and quite close)
"Um... but you're dead?" A shrug, a grin.
"I know..."
"So why are you here?"
"I dunno... just to say hi" He was completely unworried, relaxed and I was flabberghasted, filled with questions.
"So, what happens when you die?" I now know that this very simple, obvious question, never gets a very definite, satisfying answer... and have stopped bothering to ask.
"Oh, you'll find out in time... don't worry!"
I then woke up....
Another one, also before I realised I was a medium, was very intense and possibly a bit more dubious. I found myself sitting at a cafe table, under bright, Mediterranean sunshine, with a big icrd drink that I never remember tasting. To my surpise, Oliver reed appeared, and with a polite smile joined me at the table. He had died a few weeks before, so I was doubly surprised to see him - we'd never met (in life anyway). He was wearing a white, wide brimmed hat and light suit, looked a bit younger than I remembered, fit, well and sober. Triply surpised...
"Nice to meet you... but aren't you dead?"
"I believe so..." shrug
"Er.... where are we?" I had a sudden, alarming suspicion I had died myself... hence this impossible meeting.
"No idea... don't worry, you're still alive" A chuckle.
"Oh good. Why are we meeting like this? What are you doing now?"
"I'm not sure - just 'settling in' I suppose? Beats me... but I'm supposed to tell you something."
What followed was a lot of advice concerning family matters, and hints that I might not have much time to make my peace with certain people, so I'd better get busy. And an assurance that this was not because MY end was near, but the person I needed to make peace was was in danger. Sure enough, my father had a near fatal heart attack a few weeks later. I had one last vital question.
"Can you still get a drink now you're dead?" Uproarious, delighted laugh - and I can't for the life of me recall what the reply was!
The last one I'll mention is the most 'informative' and peculiar of all. I found myself driving my Rover along a darkened road, and in the passenger seat was a man called Tom, who is buried in the local churchyard, and died in 1802. I have 'talked' with him several times, restored his gravestone for him, written a long account of his fascinating life (he was a Doctor, tried for High Treason at the Old Bailey) and seen his ghost once. He was dressed in 18th century clothes, britches and white socks, and a heavy blue coat. After fond greetings, I became concerned that he might be uneasy about travelling at 70MPH in a 'horseless carriage' he could never have seen, but he seemed perfectly relaxed, easy and slouched in the seat with no seatbelt.
"Oh, don't worry! We do keep up with events you know?"
"That's good... but what are you doing here? Where are we... where are we going?"
"I've no idea. You see, you make the dream... I just dropped in to say hello?"
We ended up having a drink together somewhere, but at least one question was answered!
There are others, very weirrrd and not always pleasant. Adolf Hitler, who seems as mad a coot, and ignored my severe ticking off, beating his chest and shouting "Here beats the heart of Germany", oblivious to me pointing out he'd been dead for 70 years, and HAD no heart!
It does all seem a bit unbelievable, even to me, and I'm sure many people will quite reasonably, fairly and justifiable ask "what the fuck is he TAKING????", or worse. The answer is nothing, I was asleep...
