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Am I Dreaming This Up? Edition #46 — 13 Jul 2003 The Rick Justice Band: First off, I just wanted to say that I've been asked to play some local gigs with the Rick Justice Band in August and September. Here are the dates as I know them, in case you wanna see us play. Please double check with me in case things change (as they sometimes have a habit of doing).
Hope to see you there. And now: A Magical Life I don't talk about it much, but I live a very magical life. Wait, let me rephrase that: I talk a lot about my life (ever notice?) but what I don't often talk about is my connection to what seem to me "magical" events connected with my everyday existence. These began for me a long time ago but really kicked into overdrive in 1993 — when I started paying attention. Dreams are especially important to me. I remember being a kid in Germany, maybe 5 years old, and I'd just received roller skates which I didn't know how to use. That night I had a dream in which I was rollerskating like an expert and the following day I strapped them on and — boom — I was skating just like in the dream. Dream training. That was my first memorable sign that something was up with my dreams. It took another 25 years for me to treat them seriously. Today much of my creativity is inspired by words, themes and ideas conveyed to me in my dreams, mostly right before waking. Dreaming is almost like "night school" for me. I often wonder "who's" in charge because my plans often turn on a dime based upon what my dreamworld dictates in the morning. It's unbridled spontaneity like that that ensures I'll never make "employee of the month" at Burger King... When I say my life is magical, I mean I have prophetic, precognitive dreams, esp, auto sentience (I sense what others are feeling) and a whole host of other little ditties that I couldn't make a living from at psychic fairs but still consider assets. If it sounds a little too improbable to you — tough. I also used to think that this magical stuff was all nonesense...but it turned out that it was my skepticism that was nonesensical. I think we all have such experiences, to one degree or another, and the only difference between a guy like me today as compared to a guy like me ten years ago is a matter of acceptance rather than denial. Weird, spiritual psychic stuff happens to everyone but it's up to each of us to decide whether to toss these events aside as useless coincidences or use them as real world confirmations of our connection to something beyond the mundane, ordinary and purely physical. I believe that an unseen spiritual realm and and a higher and accessible level of super consciousness exists within each of us. Psychic events are actually just a normal dimension of human wisdom and communication, if we allow them to be. We are all closet geniuses needing to be awakened. Think of your heart: when did you build that awesome device? You didn't, right? Our waking knowledge is too limited — but some unknown intelligence within created it. It's the same one that heals paper cuts. Innate genius. The Big Bang (Not a dream about Barbara Dare) Ironically, for some it seems easier, maybe safer, to believe in accidents rather than purpose. The irony of supposedly "scientific" and logical thought is that even "The Big Bang" is yet another unproven "creationist" story — a causeless first cause — without significant video documentation to back it up. In the beginning there was nothing, and then suddenly there was everything — life, death, and pharmaceuticals. I won't argue theology with you here because I don't buy into anyone's theory of how we got here and why it should matter. But something's going on. As for what it is, we can only read the signs. As for the magic, I do know there's more openness and receptiveness to this kind of thing. I look at myself, a once iron-clad skeptic, and now I'm one of those guys I would have shunned as delusional years ago. That was before I'd learned my lesson. Frankly, I've HAD TO change my belief system to accommodate my psychic experiences, otherwise I'd have gone wacko from fear a long time ago. Then again, maybe I am wacko and everyone's just being squirmingly polite about it: "Honey? Roland's coming over — hide the butter knives!" Even just ten years ago the esoteric was still the talk of the insane and those very few strong-willed, individualistic fringe researchers who didn't think they were. Fortunately, our culture has evolved somewhat and now books by Deepak Chopra, Brian L. Weiss and Gary Zukav are no longer designated to the Witchcraft section in book stores but front and center. That's a significant sign of something beyond mere fad and fashion. Today the once freaky is pretty ordinary. Personal spiritual experiences are no longer considered heresy or insanity except by a few, including the church — how ironic! We've stepped one rung higher on a long psycho-spiritual evolutionary ladder that we're all climbing together; some dragged kicking and screaming, others running ahead like exuberant youngsters wanting to be the first. As Above So Below — Psychological Mountain Climbing I am always humbled at how OLD this supposed "New Age" stuff really is. Of course, I thought my generation had also invented oral sex too. OK, maybe we did improve upon it... [insert laughter here] but the fact is that there's nothing new going on around here that Plato, Socrates, Christ and Dickens didn't already know about. We're just getting better at what has always been there for us from the beginning — humanity, love, and our awareness of ourselves as spirits wrapped in these wiener-like suits bearing the "Human Being" brand name. Ironically, the closer we get to the peak, the more chaotic its going to get — like weather always does at the higher planes of a mountain. Things are a little shitty out there lately... or haven't you noticed? The institutions — church, government, military, business, etc., — are flailing to obscure their wickedness in a world calling for more transparency. We are seeing through their ancient deceptions and facade, and even military inventions like "the internet" have become a weapon for peace, truth and justice against those who cannot exist without lies and multi-layered veils of bureaucracy, state police, and their every-threatening weapons of mass destruction. In the meantime, there are a lot of us changing, slowly, or as in my case, rather suddenly. Most of my friends are developing at a rapid rate spiritually, having their own esoteric and "magical" experiences to confirm, on a subjective level, their own profound connection to magic and that they, rather than the world, are what's changing. Others are still sitting around at base camp, waiting. But not for long, I suspect. Dream, Dream, Dream OK, back to the magic stuff: I dreamt in 1993 about my ex-girlfriend's mothers death, three days in advance of its occurance. The ironic thing was that I was made to forget all but the gravity of the situation and the exact date. I guess that was so I couldn't interfere; freaking out this woman by calling her up and saying: "Oh, by the way, you're gonna die on Thursday! Have a nice day!" So when I was woken by a phone call at 2:30 AM on Thursday morning by my ex telling me her mother had just died, my entire being just went "Oh!" Then I knew this dream stuff was serious. In that same dream sequence I also dreamt about the LA earthquake, which was to happen, in my interpretation, on the following Monday. It never did. It happened on a Monday three months later. In that same week I also saw the "911" building explosion in New York — that exact scene of a clear morning city scape with a tall building going up in a big mushroom cloud of flame and smoke. The problem was that this was 1993 and I had no idea where this place was or what it meant to me. Today I recognize it as my having seen a video tape of the future, in my sleep. I remembered this scene clearly as I watched it all reoccur on TV from a room in Brainerd, Minnesota, September 11, 2001. "Oh!" Looks familiar. Another freaky thing was that I shared dreams with an artist I worked closely with for about seven years. He would call me up some mornings to talk about a dream we'd both been in, and then I'd tell him the rest of it, or vice versa. Wild stuff. Don't know what it means, but we shared some kind of a common pipeline going into dreamland on more than a few occasions. Yet despite all of it, I can still mess things up pretty good. It's that darn Human "wiener wrapping!" Two More Oh's ("Tomorrows"... get it? Oh, never mind!) Recently I'd gone over to surprise my friend Scott at his recording studio. That same day I was also trying to decide whether to keep my "A111" Toronto mailbox address or let it expire. When I got to the studio there was an "emergency" because a client needed a file that had been misplaced among about 50,000 audio files on a computer and nobody knew what it had been named. Scott found the file, it was numbered: "111A". I think Scott goosebumped when I told Scott about my own "A111" dilemma. What are the odds? Thousands of files with potentially thousands of names — and it was the exact same number as my mailbox only inverted or "reflected" like a mirror image... What was on the file? The voice of a cartoon character saying "Oh!" in various inflections. That was all. I kept the address. There are other incidents — Swissair flight 111 was something my subconscious alerted me of exactly 12 hours before it happened. Again, I didn't get precise information, just the numbers: 111. Again, what use is it to call up an airline and say, "Yes, my name is Roland, can you cancel Swissair Flight 111 for me please?" This was meant only as a sign for me, personally; another opportunity for the skeptic within to pay attention — "Oh!" Thus continues a long line of "magical" connections which I still don't fully understand but must nonetheless agree are more than mere coincidences, especially when taken as a whole. The Fickle Hand Of Fate — More Mystical Stuff To continue with a theme: about two months ago I got an urgent call from "Rick Justice", my old friend and former band leader boss. He asked me if I could travel 3000 miles to meet them and finish the tour for the bass player, who was suddenly anxious to leave the band. I told him I knew this was coming. I had sensed I could be finishing the next tour even as I left the band back in September. I just had this feeling I'd be playing with them again under some circumstance. Three months — yeah sure, I can handle that. So I made a million phone calls and found the easiest(?) way to get myself to a rendezvous point in remote northern Alberta. As it turned out, the bass player — a nice guy who I've spoken with several times — decided he wanted to stay on after all. It wasn't practical for him to leave yet, he thought. During my frenzied planning I didn't give much consideration as to whether my heart was into going away and leaving all my own projects hanging for the next three months. But I felt a sense of duty though to help Rick out. And besides, I was the only viable option on such short notice. Fate took a strange twist. Instead of going home, the bass player stayed on. Within a couple of weeks he received word that his father had died. And so he had to return home anyway, on even shorter notice. It leaves me wondering...was providence, through a sudden rift between him and a band member, guiding him to be with his father before his passing? Life is a big, weird thing. Who knows... And You — What About You? OK, here's an opportunity, my dear realitycheckers. Whoever's reading this out there: have you had similar experiences? Write to me and I'll post your words on my website — anonymously, of course — or let me know otherwise. Make it under 1000 words — not like these darn newsletters of mine — hint, hint. And with that, I bid you all some very fair and pleasant TWO MORE OHs! Roland Kriewaldt TO UNSUBSCRIBE — You can't. (Too much bureaucracy. Sorry.) Subscribe to free newsletter
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