Dream of: 12 February 2000 "Changed By The Power"

 

true power derives

from god source of all power

in the universe

My father and I were standing on the wooden deck on the outside of the second floor of the Gallia County Farmhouse. As we looked out toward the hills in the west, we spotted an alarming sight: tornadoes. Not just one, but several funnel clouds of varying sizes had appeared on the horizon. The funnels were still far enough away so they did not present immediate danger, but I knew that if the tornadoes continued in our direction, the result could be devastating.

Other people had obviously also spotted the funnels because dozens of cars were speeding along the road in front of the Farmhouse, headed east away from the clouds. The cars, however, were having difficulty because the road was covered with ice and snow, and several cars skidded out of control as they turned the curve in front of the Farmhouse. I realized that if one of the cars had a serious accident, I might have to go down and help whoever was in the car, but I really did not have time to help anyone else right now because I first needed to make sure everyone in my family who was in the Farmhouse was safe. My mother, my paternal grandmother Mabel, and my paternal step-grandfather Clarence were somewhere around the Farmhouse, and I figured that they probably were not yet aware of the tornadoes. Intending to alert them of the danger, I headed down the back outside steps from the deck, hollering out that a tornado was coming.

Even though I ran all about the Farmhouse, inside and out, blaring out the warning, I never actually encountered anyone. When I finally walked back up to the deck, even my father had disappeared. I could only hope everyone had found safety.

One cloud approaching from the distance was particularly huge, dark and oppressive. It looked as if it might be a half kilometer wide and obviously presented the most danger. Other clouds were smaller, even graceful. One cloud formed right before my eyes, as if from nothing. The cloud just seemed to grow from high in the sky as the funnel fell closer and closer to the earth until it touched down.

Most clouds were still fairly far away; suddenly, however, one funnel was almost upon me. As it sped toward me, I still had time to run down to the basement to escape, but I did not. Instead, I looked more closely at the cloud, almost all green, filled with green leaves pulled from trees. The funnel was fairly small, perhaps a meter in diameter, and by the time it was close to me, it was only about as tall as I. I realized that if I did not move, the funnel would obviously hit me. I had no way to be sure of its power – perhaps it would kill me. I recalled having once thought it might be possible to catch a tornado, and in a flash I made my decision: I decided to stand still and let the funnel hit me.

As the swirl of leaves struck, I could feel the power of the tornado enter my body. In that instant, I felt myself absorb the power, and the power became part of me. This funnel was small, and its power faint in comparison to the monster tornado in the distance, but the transference of power from this small tornado to me was firmly palpable, and I felt myself changed.

Nevertheless, I did not intend to stay on the deck any longer and take a chance with a stronger funnel cloud. Once again I ran down the back stairs, and this time I continued to the basement. At the rear of the basement, I found my grandmother, sitting against the wall. No other members of my family were present, however, and I feared for their safety. I sat down near my grandmother and waited for a stronger tornado to hit the Farmhouse. I did not like being here. The basement was damp, and when I touched some of the sandstone on the basement's walls, I could feel the moisture in the stone. An acrid odor also filled the air. Since I knew that my grandmother used to store jars of canned food in the basement, I thought perhaps some of the food had spoiled and was causing the odor.

I wanted to get out of here, but I stayed. I sat still and thought to myself that sometimes, like now, I just needed to have patience – to sit and wait.

06 March 2017

the creation of

symbols in dreams is worthy

of serious thought

 

Commentary of 06 March 2017

Symbols are dependent on intelligence. A symbol cannot exist without intelligence. The creation of symbols and the recognition of symbols are two different concepts, but intelligence is necessary for both processes.

The creation of symbols in dreams is a fascinating subject. Clearly I believe that the symbols are created by God.

Je crois que Dieu fait les symbols, et je crois que les tornados dans mes reves sont symbols de desire sexual. Ils ont beaucoup de pouvoir comme le sex. Je crois aussi. Mais dans cette reve. 

 

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