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Trapped in the turmoil of a dark, oppressive dream, I woke to the sound of my own screams.

I could feel my partner’s voice and presence trying to break through but couldn’t locate her or myself in the moment. Was she in the dream time or on earth? Am I in the dream or on earth?

We were both sleeping at a friend’s house on our recent trip to Vermont. As the earthly room came into view, I catapulted myself into her arms, gasping for air and sobbing.

“Honey, you are dreaming. You are okay. You are safe,” she said calmly and firmly.

I couldn’t speak. 80% of me was still in the astral trauma zone. With the air hunger, all I could muster was, “I NEED my mountain air. I Can’t breathe.” I longed for our little cabin in the woods back home in my mountains.

“We have that here too,” Bri said calmly. She thrust open the window with a whipping force and gently pressed my entire body towards the window tilting my head into the fresh mountain air. I’m not light as a feather but in her arms it feels like it. She is all muscle, brute force and soft flannel against me. I breath in delicious salvation. Oh my! Thank the goddess, she’s right!

“I was dreaming about my mom,” I told her. “She was horrible to me in it. She was shaming me and telling me what a horrible daughter I was. It was a terrible, horrible feeling. My real mother would NEVER, EVER say those things to me.”

My mother has been dead 14 years. I still miss her. She was a nurturing and kind woman. The kind of selfless mother people dream about. And when my baby was 1 year old and I was 23, she died suddenly of an aneurysm. Sadly, I diagnosed her bleeding brain, but it was too late for her at that point. My postpartum process, new motherhood and her death were all tangled together for me from this point forward.

As my heart pace slowed, my breath deepened, my voice returned. I was trying to scramble out of the pain. Bri held me closely as I cried.

“Why would you get such a terrible dream about her? That is so unfair.” Bri protested. Bri is my “why” person. She is religiously committed to justice and fairness on earth and everywhere else. She never stops asking “why”. And her “why’s” are passionate. These are never soft questions, they are forceful, inquisitive commentary. This world will be a better place while she’s here. She commands it so. It’s sweet and also heartbreaking when I don’t have a clear answer for her or myself. Why the fuck do I finally get a dream about my mother and it’s a totally abusive pile of shit?!?!?

So here is the best explanation that I can give for “why” this happens. When a loved one transforms from their earthly body to the astral realm it’s like they are going home. Many native cultures believe that we are visiting from the dream-time (astral). That the dream time is the “real world”. The astral realm is a literal blueprint for our physical realm (what I call University Earth). This means that we are thought of and formed in the astral as a blueprint and then manifest to earth. Energy follows intention and then becomes matter. If you are building a home you start from a blue-print, you sketch it out. Then you build it. The universe is exactly this.

So when you wake up each morning on earth you are coming back from your time in the astral. You do your morning rituals, then have your coffee or tea and are fully here. Well, imagine that in the death process your spirit wakes up fully in the astral realm just in the same way.

When a person dies most of their energy lifts into the astral and some of their denser energy takes longer to process and lift up. This is why ancient cultures cremate bodies, to help the spirit lift up easier. This is why so many cultures spend so much time praying and helping those going home. It helps the living and the dead to do this. Home is not a foreign place. It is a loving and familiar place. You don’t lose your personality, your being or your favorite ice cream flavor. You are still you. Suddenly, you find that you can be in many places at once. On earth you can’t be in many places at once. (Unless you are on the internet, but don’t even get me started on the internet and telepathic communication. We will be here all day!)

So in the case of my nightmare, a part of my mother was still here trapped; a dense and unconscious part of her soul hadn’t lifted up. I ran into it. It was a real bitch to me. But this allowed my to mother to locate her lost part (with my help) and so I spent the rest of the night crying, praying and asking my mother’s true soul self (the enlightened part of her) to come clean up the mess and integrate that portion of her that was angry back into her entirety.

The second part to this, is that there is a real battle that goes on between the dark and the light on earth and in the astral realm. (Like Donald Trump) This is why it’s so important to understand the veil between the astral and physical realms and not fall prey to the shadow (see previous parenthesis). The darkness wants me to believe I am worthless, that my mother doesn’t love me, etc. However, I know that is a lie. So it takes me deeper into meditation to understand why I am dreaming this stuff up.

In my B-Boundaries class we talk about the astral and physical realms and how they fit together.

We also work heavily with guardians and protectors so that you have a team to call in. I was lucky to have my conscious, physical partner there with me. But I knew also, how to call in my team of guardians. You will too if you join in class B-Boundaries Click here to learn more. It starts this Thursday! (The pre-req is class A-Alignment.)