Ever since I was a child, vivid lucid dreams have been part of my life. As a psychotherapist I understand that often dreams help us resolve issues and feelings that arise during the day which are too complex or disturbing for us to directly address. Dreams can be interpreted or analyzed, thus giving us insight into our deepest fears, desires, and patterns. In fact, Dreamtime experiences have opened new vistas of self understanding for me.

One important concept our group works with is the idea that dreams can be parallel realities. Gayle teaches on several levels of consciousness, and students are often aware of her presence in their dreams.

One of the most significant dreams of my life occurred about a year ago. In this dream, I walked into a college building where a Buddhist monk was teaching meditation. I sat down and immediately accessed a high level of meditation. It was effortless!

As the dream progressed, the monk took me to a shop filled with valuable and unusual relics. I looked at the objects and began to feel envious and angry. I asked the monk, “How can you teach that objects are irrelevant, yet you have all these riches?” He didn’t give me a direct answer. A short time later I wandered through unfamiliar neighborhoods, but no matter where I turned, the monk appeared.

When I called Gayle to tell her about this dream, she was pleased to hear that I had meditated in the Dreamtime. She also explained that the monk was simply trying to show me the riches available through meditation and higher consciousness. Further, Gayle stated that my unique body/spirit was beginning to process and integrate the phenomena experienced collectively in the group workshops. Now I was experiencing these things on my own — not in just physical proximity with workshop participants.

Recently I had another unusual dream. I was at a workshop and there were many people around, some new to the group and other experienced members I did not know. As another student and I walked outside, we looked up to the cloudless sky and saw several spaceships headed for Earth.

“Good,” I said to my cohort, “they arrived just in time.” Fearlessly we began to search through nearby buildings, and after a short time came upon a mysterious laboratory. I knew I had discovered the task I was destined to perform. The laboratory was sterile and empty of human beings. The cold, shiny stainless steel tables held a myriad of headless cyborgs laying dormant, awaiting programming.

I drew my weapon, a laser which could only be fired with absolute clarity and intent. As a computer chip in the neck of the nearest cyborg began to glow, I centered myself, aimed, and willed the weapon to fire. It founds its mark, and all the cyborgs were disabled.

“One more step in averting the takeover,” I thought to myself, “and I’m proud to do my part.”

My friend and I returned to the workshop, where we discovered that an entire day had passed, and the workshop had begun without us. Gayle was directing students in a sacred dance. She looked at me, and wordlessly understood what I had accomplished.

“Michelle,” asked Gayle, “will you please chant for us?” I strode to the front of the room and began chanting. As my croaking voice filled the room, I wondered, “Why didn’t she ask me to dance instead of chant?” Then I awoke.

I called Gayle to talk about this dream soon after it occurred. She said that there was truth in the dream, although parts of my interpretation were off. The basis of many mystery school teachings, she explained, is that extraterrestrials interfered with the evolution of life on this planet. She further stated that many people begin to awaken to Atlantean past-life memories by dreaming that they are looking for a laboratory where experiments are being done, many times on humans.

“When Atlantis broke up,” she explained, “there were several human/hybrid beings left on the planet who sought to use the power of the Atlanteans without their wisdom. A struggle for power on Earth began.”

During the same conversation, I also said that I was wondering if thoughts and conversations I have experienced are "real” or “dreams”. Indeed, the line between this reality and other realities seems to be blurring. Gayle assured me that this is a symptom of waking to higher consciousness. My work in dreams continues to gently float me down the stream of the spiritual path — to meditate, clear my issues, and remain centered in my being.

— by Michelle Mather, LISW