I had sort of plateaued in my writing...and I was searching for a way to jumpstart the creativity again.  My writing group were issuing challenges to my work, I was attempting to continue to mold and shape what was already there.  It seemed though, that I wanted to move on to something else.

 

Then came the test.  Now...parts of this are humourous...and that may be revelatory of my own self...lol...and you may want to think twice before delving into the dreams of Jen.  (Though this one's mild compared to the nightmares...)

 

In my dream, I was in a stark white room.  I was lying there on a white table in the centre of the room, and there was no other furniture.  It was cold and stark...harsh straight lines all around...bare...and I was only covered in a white sheet.  I felt conscious...and was having that dialogue with self that goes like "I know I'm dreaming, but I feel so awake..." "Yeah...but look at _________ there's no way that's real..."

Anyway, I hear the clicking of heels coming down a long hallway.  I try to lift my head to see who it is and I'm unable to move.  My limbs and body are so heavy...but I'm not in pain or unaware...in fact as I said...I'm very lucid.

 

Through the corner of my eye I begin to see a man approaching.  He's dressed in white...a 3 piece suit...black cane, way cool shoes, and a black bowler hat.  He approaches in a very business like manner...leans over my face so that he's looking deeply into my eyes.

 

He considers me for a while...then something about him indicates that he came to resolution about something.

It startled me when he spoke, for it was not dream-like.  He merely said:

 

"I am the keeper of the stories.  Are you ready?"

 

Despite the cartoonish setting of the dream, there was something incredibly heavy in his question...it filled me with a sense of foreboding and doubt.  And before I could think twice, I said "No."

 

It all disappeared in a snap.  I couldn't write for months...and began to fear that I never would.  I haven't seen him in dreams, though I've gone looking for him.

 

And this is the tale of Expecting.

I've asked myself over and again why I said no.  The only answer I can come up with, it's a bit painful but honest, is that I wasn't accepting enough of these types of experiences, I wasn't trusting enough of what I knew to be true.  So the gut response was fear. 

 

Fear kills.  Everything it touches...creativity, love, life.  So.  I think that with this, as with many other things in life, I chose the difficult path.  Whether intentionally or not...I chose.

 

As for your experience Switch...I wouldn't be surprised if you were visited.

don't take this the wrong way people but tell the keeper of the book to leave me alone for one night

 

I need a good night's sleep

Ranae,

Thank you for watching out for us...these conversations tend to get deeper and more personal and I'd hate for someone to take advantage of that in any way.  Thanks, Jen