As put forth in movies such as the A Nightmare on Elm Street series and Dreamscape, there seems to exist the notion, or better yet, the popular myth that if one dies or is killed in their dreams, the result will be death in real life.
Well that is a notion which I can securely state as being false.
How can I be so certain? Because it has happened to me twice, and here I am still breathing.
During my senior year at Syracuse University, I took a second course taught by Dr. John Marshall Townsend. Dr. Townsend’s main area of expertise is in the field of Socio-Biology. The studies involves the differing motivations between the sexes in their sexual pursuits, and how this influences society. His latest book, What Women Want–What Men Want, encompasses the content of what he’d been teaching for years.
However this second course was Studies of Transpersonal Themes and Experiences. This class was considered a fringe, or hippyish, Anthropology course. We learned of the transformational experience, and the various methods and aspects to the processes used by, or developed within, individuals across cultures. Some of the content of the course included A Separate Reality, by Carlos Castaneda, selected readings from Aldous Huxley’s, The Doors of Perception, and a few movies, including (the rather disturbing) Equus.
From the outset of the course, Dr. Townsend warned us to treat this as an academic endeavor, and to not allow the material to take us on a path of self-realization. Well, go figure as to what would end up happening to me. I got so wrapped up in what the information meant to me as a person, that I developed a serious case of writer’s block when it came time to write the final paper for the class.
About a week before the paper was due, I had the following dream:
I was standing in the backyard of my parents’ house where I grew up. Soon there appeared a group of seven or eight tribal warriors at the other end of the yard. They were talking among themselves, plotting their move against me. They all held long spears and were all wearing ornate gold masks. One of them threw a spear at me, which I barely avoided. There came a second and third spears, which I barely avoided again. I picked one up and tried to throw it at them, but my attempt was feeble, not even clearing half the distance to them. It was then that they rushed me, pushed me down to the ground with their spears, and killed me. Everything went black, then turned to a deep shade of blue. Soon I heard the words, “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”
When I told Dr. Townsend of the dream, his eyes grew large and, with his trademark grin, said, “Woah, that’s deep.” I admitted to him that I had gone against his better judgment and allowed myself to be taken by the course. Ultimately the paper never got finished, and I failed the course. In hindsight, I remain as at peace with the decision now as I was then, because for having passed behind the veil of death alone, the ‘F’ was worth it.
The second dream of death came in a very different form. This time the dream didn’t involve a violent end, rather it consisted of a brief life review, the same as each of us eventually performs after the transition to the dimension of Spirit. What I remember of it was that I was fully aware that I had made the transition, and was floating in white ether. There were large bubbles of events of which I had experienced in this life that were floating all around me at various distances and sizes. Somebody was along side of me, though I don’t know who, as I didn’t even bother to look at his face. The two of us moved in and out of these bubbles, revisiting a few of the events of my life. In each event bubble, I judged my decisions made in those instances. Ultimately I decided that I wanted to continue living so as to make greater positive karmic progress in this lifetime.
When I awoke, I was smiling at, what seemed to be, the assurance that I likely won’t be meeting my mortal end any time in the near future… because I know that I have work yet to do!