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One night, many years ago, I fell asleep and went to heaven or a place that I can find no better word for. You know how some dreams are disjointed and surreal, but other dreams have this linear quality to them? I’ve had both variations of dreams and I’ve never believed them to be anything more than that, dreams. Then, I had a third version. This dream embodied an aspect that the other two types lacked. In this third type, I became fully conscious. I’ve only had a handful of such dreams, but the ones I’ve had remained in my memory. The dream I’m going to describe affected me deeply. I have not come to terms with what it meant or what it was, however, after having it, I tried for a long time to repeat it. I put this out in the blogosphere hoping to find someone else who has had a similar experience.

I woke in gray room that reminded me of an operating room. It lacked pictures, clutter, or decoration of any kind. In front of me were three metal tables. One woman stood to my right and another woman to my left had lain down upon the table that was in front of her. To the right of the lady on my right, a third woman waited. There was no table next to her. She belonged there.

I knew I had been here before and was not alarmed. I also knew the process and what was expected of me. Moving toward the woman who belonged in this room, I stopped in front of her, giving her my back. I lifted my long hair off my neck and the woman made some adjustment on my spine at the base of my skull. Then, I returned to the middle table, noticing the second woman had lain down. I followed suit and climbed upon the medical table. It was hard, but warm.

As I lay down, I squeezed out of the top of my head as toothpaste might be expressed from the tube. The instant I left, I rose up, but I had no real sense of what was going on. I hovered in the air and glanced down at the shape below me. It resembled a deflated balloon. The form was flat, but clothed. It had a face, which looked more like a mask. As I observed this thing below me, it looked familiar. The longer I looked the more recollection I had, until I realized the body belonged to me. It confused me. How could I be floating in the air, completely self-aware, conscious, while my body lay supine on the table? If my body was below me, and I was no longer in it, then what did I look like?

I recall my curiosity. I made a conscious decision to slowly, lift my left hand in front of my face. A surge of surprise and joy electrified my form. I turned my hand over and held it higher watching the sparkles gleam inside this transparent gold mist. My hand was the most beautiful shade of gold I’d ever seen. Inside my hand were millions of tiny, glittering pieces. They looked like miniature gold stars.

I am so beautiful, I thought.

I filled with a joy and a love so profound and real, it’s impossible to describe. Something wrapped its love around me, joining with my jubilation, permeating every molecule of me. It was so warm. In the presence of that immense love, all my problems vanished, no self-doubt, no concerns, no past, no family, and no friends. I had nothing left inside me that would trigger a negative thought or emotion. That might seem cruel and sad, but think of it. While parents love their children, with that love there is worry, trepidation, and sometimes anger. I had no anger, no trepidation. I was only aware of that moment. That part has stuck with me and made me dissect this dream.

Try to make yourself forget your problems, your family, earth, or pets. Try to make yourself forget just one of those things for longer than a second. I am betting you cannot, not even for a second. I have tried when meditating, and I got very good at meditating, but was never able to rid myself of ties to this world. For the moment you breathe, you know you are human.

As I admired my golden, luminescent form, a feminine voice that sounded much like my own, but was at the same time not my voice, chuckled, “Stop admiring yourself. You have a job to do.” It was not an admonishment, or judgment. In fact, the tone was similar to that of a parent observing their child investigating something new. The voice was pleased that I was happy and only meant to remind me of what I needed to do. She was humored.

I pulled my attention from myself and an image of an older woman appeared in my mind. I flew toward her, like a weightless magnet to metal. No heavier than mist and as sheer as sunlight, I took to the air.

My purpose for being there was for her.

I soared over humans who were in solid forms at desks, on phones, filing papers, and writing. It looked to be an office, but none that I recognized. As I rushed over these busy people, no one looked up to see me. They either could not see me, or didn’t care to acknowledge me.

When I focused attention on the woman, I moved faster, until I saw her climbing a staircase. The stairs could have been in any office or school building. There was nothing remarkable about them. She was an older woman, much older than I was at the time. Her hair was gray and white, pulled back in a bun. Her form was frail and thin. Again, her form was quite ordinary, like the stairs, and just as unfamiliar. Her emotions, however, were what struck me. I felt everything she felt. Wave after wave of fear, sadness, and regret filled me, but while I was able to experience what she felt, I did not internalize them, I did not make them mine.

I was here for her. My goal was to help her reach the top of the stairs. She could not neither see nor hear me. The only way I could influence her was to send her comfort and strength. By focusing on a particular emotion, it emanated from me and into her. As soon as I withdrew my support, her thoughts and fears crept back. She did not want to ascend those stairs. She didn’t know what was at the top. She didn’t know why she was there. She only knew that she was to walk up them. I stayed beside her for what seemed like hours. I sent her comfort and urged her forward repeatedly. Little by little, she made her way up the steps.

At the top, it opened into a vast area without boundaries. A white, bright fog disguised the landscape. Not far off on my left was an arched bridge. I knew, under no circumstances could I cross the bridge. Had I tried, I would not have been able to step (although I had no solid feet) upon it. The wooden bridge reminded me of those found over creeks on private property. The woman noticed the bridge, and her trepidation returned, but was far easier to subdue this time than at the bottom of the stairs. She made her way across the bridge and disappeared into the fog.

Right after the fog engulfed her and her form  disappeared, I was sucked backwards as if I were liquid in a straw. Slamming back into my body, I woke in my bed, in my room, in my house. I was not sure what happened. My body was leaden, contrasting with the ethereal wisp I’d been. Every problem, concern, doubt crashed upon me. The love that had warmed my soul was gone, and I felt cold. I had stood before the warmest being, infused with its heat that was love and once deprived of that warmth, felt hallow and frigid. I accessed all of this in seconds. Once I had taken all the information that I could in, tears fell. I tried to return to sleep and dream it again but it was never to be again.

Do you know anyone who’s had such a dream? Have you had a similar dream?

I’ve been searching for a while now, trying to find others that have experienced something so profound.

The stories that come closest are Near Death experiences that I’ve heard on television or YouTube. It haunts me. My head tells me it was only a dream, a beautiful dream, but nothing more. My heart picks that sentiment apart. Questioning how a brain could make dream that made me forget my problems, experience love, as I’ve never felt since, and stay with me so long.

Before this experience, I had never meditated, but afterwards, I took up meditating with the goal of reproducing the dream or at the very least similar sensations. I progressed in my meditation to the point where I was able to clear my mind and I had many unusual sessions, but never anything like my brief visit to the gates of paradise.