In a roundabout way, my journey into the unknown began in 2005, with a dream that I woke up from in tears.
In my dream, I had just arrived on a spaceship. The level I’d entered on was open and spacious, with windows all around its circular exterior walls. About half of the floor was taken up by a wide walkway along the windows where maybe half a dozen people were working.
I didn’t recognize any of them, nor they me, but I felt like they knew who I was, and knew that I belonged there somehow.
The narrator voice-over in my dream said, “She’s been away a long time,” referring to me. And that felt right.
The rest of that level was open in the middle, surrounded by a railing that overlooked what was probably the engine room, below. I walked over to that railing and looked down, where I saw a handful of people working. Only one looked up. A man.
As I remember, he was muscular, with hair that was light brown, curly, and longish, though not long. He was in his 40’s or 50’s, and I was quite a bit younger.
The moment he saw me, though his expression never changed, he set down the tool he’d been working with and headed straight for the ladder. I started walking toward the opening in the railing where he would appear, and felt utterly overcome with emotion.
He stepped off the ladder and onto the level where I waited, and opened his arms. And I, who was openly sobbing by now, walked right into them.
As he held me tight, the narrator voice-over said, “She thinks of him as a father figure,” and I assumed that he’d probably been a friend of my parents.
I remember saying through my tears, “I’ve missed you so much.”
I awakened from the dream, crying—which I don’t think had ever happened to me before—and utterly confounded. There was no one like this in my life, no one who I was missing. Having grown up in the military, where we moved all the time, the only adults I’d ever had deep emotional ties to were my parents. And they were both still very much alive and well.
Seven years later, I was chatting with the first of what would be a number of very psychic friends. She’d met my then-husband for the first time, and asked me why I’d married him. She’d noticed what felt to her like a lack of connection, and she wasn’t wrong.
For some reason, that spaceship dream came to mind and I told her about it, along with another dream that I’d had a few years later that was somewhat similar, in which I’d once more awakened crying with this overwhelming feeling of having been reunited with someone I’d badly missed. In this second dream, I saw one of my deceased grandmothers sitting in a chair and went to her, embraced her, and was again overwhelmed by emotion. Again I said the words, “I’ve missed you so much.”
Once more, I was confounded. The woman in my dream hadn’t looked like either of my grandmothers, so I wasn’t sure which one she was supposed to be. And while I’d loved my grandmothers, I hadn’t grown up near either of them. They were both only occasional visitors in my life. I felt love for them, when I thought of them. But not grief, not loss. There was still no one in my life who I was missing like that.
As I finished telling my friend about these dreams, she suddenly said, “Hold on. I’ve got to get a paper and pen.” I’d been around her enough to know that she was clairaudient and sometimes heard an otherworldly voice. She scribbled something on the paper, recording the words that were coming through her, and then read them back to me.
“You had those because he was telling you/you had to know there is/was a happily ever after.”
After many years, I’ve begun to suspect that those dreams signified a greatly desired reconnection with Source, but at the time, I read something quite different into it.
Walking into the arms of a man I’d missed felt like perhaps I’d reconnected with a soul mate, even if the narrator voice had been clear that “she thinks of him as a father figure.” My marriage, at that point, was a lonely one for me. And I was a romance writer. ‘Happy ever after’ only meant one thing…a great love.
I needed to know more.
As it happened, one of my neighbors knew of a man who lived nearby, a reverend who accessed the Akashic Records for clients. I reached out to him and got on his calendar the following week.
That reading told me nothing about any soul mate, and was a bit disappointing. But a door had opened for me. I began to research metaphysical teachings, and learned that I had spirit guides, and a year later, when my writing career was clearly going to have to change directions, since vampires and shape-shifters had fallen out of fashion in romance, I went back for a second reading.
When I asked him about my spirit guides, I apparently invited them in. They told me, through him, that they really wanted me to get out from behind my computer and start interacting with people in person more. “Like,” the psychic said, “My Indigos and Sensitives group”. He was the facilitator of a weekly meeting at the local Unity Church that was essentially a psychic support group.
When it became increasingly clear that my guides wanted me to join that group, he encouraged me to give it a try, if only to research the new book idea I was playing with. It took all of my courage to walk into a roomful of psychics when I was quite sure that I didn’t belong there.
But that group not only welcomed me, it changed my life. Those weekly meetings became a crash course in all things spiritual and metaphysical, and far more than that.
Three different members of this group channeled the Archangels for me either privately or semi-privately, over the next couple of years, all testing out their brand new channeling skills on me. The Archangels often started with the phrase, “Do you have any questions?” And I did, so many questions.
I thought it was about them, that mine was just a supportive role. And then, a year later, I was visiting the psychic friend who’d channeled that message after I told her about my spaceship dream. She lived in a different part of the country and had nothing to do with my local group. All of a sudden, she said the Archangels wanted to come through and she began channeling them. Again, through her they asked, “Do you have any questions?”
For the first time, I realized it wasn’t all about the others. It was about me, too. The angels specifically wanted to talk to me, to teach me.
I was stunned.
In the years since, I’ve had many, many sessions with them in this way. Finally, though, they told me that it was time for me to quit relying on others to be my eyes and ears, and to trust my own ability to bring through their wisdom, understanding, and guidance. For you.
And here we are.
After writing the above post, it dawned on me that I’d never actually asked for clarification. So I did.
My guides, why did I have those two dreams, the spaceman and the grandmother? What was the significance?
We wanted you to be aware that there was so much more to your life, to who you are, than what you’d yet experienced. There were aspects of Source that were ready to connect with you, and so you were made aware of them in this way. For in opening your heart through the beauty of your tears, you were able to allow them in.
It was truly as simple as that, at that one level, but of course, there are always other reasons for things, for through those dreams, you found your nexus of psychic friends, and released your tight grip on your marriage, or your acceptance of it. And so there were many different reasons for these dreams.
Why a spaceman?
To delight you. And to help you remember the dream. It was simply for fun, not meant to be literal, necessarily, although you do realize that your connection to the galactic is profound.
All worked together to get you to where you are now. That’s truly all that was ever important.
(Discussion with my guides on 5/4/25)