Can people be keyed to particular places? As I indicated in LOVE vs. FEAR, I have been dreaming and — yes — obsessing about moving to Maine for many years. Does it mean anything? Is it escapism as my leftie friends used to suggest? Yes, Maine is overwhelmingly white and yes, there are precious few jobs there, but I feel its earth so deeply. It calls me from miles away. The weird thing is that I was saying I wanted to move there long before I visited. I am not sure why – I had no known connection to the place. But once I visited it was definitely love and I have gone back many times.

My husband and I have visited Mount Desert Island, particularly Acadia National Park, several times in September, our favorite time of year. We spent the trips hiking and I saw some people on those trails – people from all over – whom I had seen in previous years. It seemed to me that we were all being drawn back. For example, one year we met a man from Cleveland in the woods between Sieur de Monts and The Tarn. As I recall, we were going to do a Dorr Mountain hike we had never done before and he appeared to be coming back from it. We asked him if we were headed the right way. We talked for a few minutes, exchanged stories and tips on our favorite trails – he recommended the Canon Brook Trail – then went each went on our ways. The next year we were doing the Acadia/St. Sauveur loop when we ran into him again at the top of Acadia Mountain. This time he approached us for directions. He didn’t seem to recognize us, but I recognized him immediately. There was a vibration in the air – something was buzzing under the surface the whole time.

That was the week of the Equinox in 2004 – which was the last time we were in Maine. It was an especially interesting trip all around. The trails always have wisdom to teach me, but this time there was more. For one thing, hundreds of crickets were congregating around our motel room door and walkway every day we were there. This might freak some people out, but I love crickets so I welcomed them as friendly visitors and good omens. (Though we had to be very careful not to step on them, or crush them in the door, there were so many.)

On the morning of the Equinox itself, we visited a sacred boulder in the woods. Actually, this was our second pilgrimage to it. On the first the year before, I rather brashly asked it to relieve me of my nicotine addiction. Do you know what? That ancient and profoundly patient boulder did indeed take it away. I haven’t smoked or used any kind of nicotine substitute since – after 20 years of hardcore cigarette addiction.

Anyway, this second pilgrimage was more intense. On our way in, the forest was thick with a deep, rich primordial presence. I was leading and halfway in I saw a black bear cross our path about fifty feet ahead. The crossing was silent, from right to left, and the bear disappeared without a trace seconds after appearing. My husband didn’t see it, but he was behind me so he didn’t have a clear view. To be honest, it terrified me, but we continued on and the presence grew stronger. When we reached the boulder, I was disappointed to find someone already there. The stranger had managed to climb on top of the boulder and was doing a meditation – one hand on his heart and the other hand gesturing toward the top of Cadillac Mountain. I was self-conscious at first, but eventually my husband and I each did our own meditations at the base of the boulder while the stranger continued his on top. I had the sensation that my hands and head were dissolving into the rock, but nothing earth shattering happened. I felt love for the rock and kissed it.

Somehow I came away with realizations that became more clear on the trails in the next few days. I kept getting images of splits – split rocks, split trees, even Mount Desert Island itself is split. The message was that there was a split within me, and that I needed to align my WILL with my HEART in order to heal it.

On the last evening of our trip, we did something unusual for us – we drove to the top of Cadillac Mountain. Sunset was approaching and we wanted to say goodbye to the Island before going to dinner. We thought Cadillac Mountain would be a good place to do that since, as the highest point on the North Atlantic seaboard, it commands a grand view. Well, it just so happened that the Queen Mary II had just arrived in Bar Harbor for the first time ever. Who knew that this was a big deal? Everyone but us, apparently. The top of Cadillac was crawling with cruise ship oglers and TV news crews, in addition to the normal crowd of tourists.

The mood was not ideal for a spiritual experience. Nevertheless, something happened to me there.

The pink haze of the sky was fusing with the pink granite of the mountain – and all around there was an incredible pulsation. The energy was palpable – couldn’t everyone feel it? It was bubbling up through me and erupting out of my head, making me a fountain. There was a lump in my throat, a massive thickening in my chest and a charge running up my neck and spreading out and up across the back of my head. I felt overwhelming LOVE. I wanted to stay there forever.

After a while, my husband indicated that we should leave before the mass exodus. I could see he wasn’t having the same experience. I was having trouble talking. I mutely went along.

On our way back to the car, I was still bubbling over. I passed a little boy who was walking the other way hand in hand with his mother. He beamed at me and then bashfully turned his face into his mother’s side as he passed by. It seemed odd then I realized that he had reacted that way to me because I was beaming like a beacon at him. He was beaming back.

I returned home with such heightened sensitivity that I could no longer bear the negativity of my job. Going back to work was like jumping into a vat of acid. A few weeks later I had the Glowing Green Man dream. A few months later, I up and quit my job.

According to P. Chris Kaiser in The Chakra System of Mount Desert Island, “Cadillac Mountain is an activator mountain. . . . As the heart chakra on the island, it activates people’s hearts” (23). Kaiser relays how he had a shamanic encounter with a bear on Cadillac’s South Ridge Trail. The encounter culminated in a profound embrace. He suggests that others have had bear experiences on and around Cadillac Mountain, more than a simple sighting like mine. The boulder, he says, is the base chakra of the Mountain. He calls it “Wolfie” after his son.

After his amazing experience on the South Ridge Trail, Kaiser awoke in the night and transcribed what he felt was a transmission from Cadillac Mountain. Some highlights are as follows:

You are being awakened. You don’t know why you come, but you come to me. I am an activation point. I am activating the Earth and I am activating you. After you walk on me changes start to take place in your life. Little did you know, it was my energy that triggered the change. . . .

There are people arriving here now on the island who will be working with me and through me to activate the energies of the Earth just as their brothers, the Native Americans, did before them. There are those who can feel the energy vibration that I send out. . . .

As I am activated, in turn the Earth will be activated. My vibratory rate will not only become stronger, but it will be raised to a higher octave. I am one of many activation points on the Earth. . . .

Be open and receptive and I will fill you with my wisdom, for I have been here a long time. Wake up and become aware. You are capable of so much more. If you fail to listen you will be missing the opportunity of many lifetimes. Actually you are here now to take advantage of this opportunity. You chose to be here. (40-44)

So . . . here is my current dilemma: The urge to move to my Right Place in the World has been building within me for over a decade. I have been stuck on Maine as that Right Place, but various obstacles have kept it a ‘one day maybe’ and not a reality. In the meantime, we continue to live in a place and work in jobs that are sucking the life energy from us. In the last several months, the desire to move out of the toxic waters around us and into a like-minded community – sooner rather than later – has become so strong that we’re considering other places that might be more logistically feasible. In the fall, we started taking trips to scout out these places. More recently, this inner urge has received independent corroboration from various external sources that echo the call to form like-minded groups in preparation for the changes to come. For example, this extraordinary talk (second video) given by Andrew Smith, author of The Revolution of 2012, which I was introduced to by Kingsley Dennis’s equally extraordinary blog. Smith’s talk is what got me thinking that maybe evolving and surviving could be the same path. Up until then I was assuming that at the critical point, I would go to Cadillac Mountain and meditate, and probably be swept away by a colossal tsunami.

So, back to the dilemma . . . Is my long time obsession with moving to Maine an indication that Maine is my Right Place? Or was I keyed to Maine merely for activation? Where is our mutual Right Place, if not Maine? But what about my connection with Cadillac Mountain? Am I one of those keyed to working with it to activate the energies of the Earth? What does that entail? I want to fulfill my role – how do I do it? These may be crazy questions, but they are on my mind.

Meanwhile, synchronicities like the following give me pause: A couple years ago, I stumbled upon a novel – self-published, I think – wherein the heroine has my name (an uncommon name) and lives in Maine. She is on a grail quest – not the kind of grail quest that I am on, but a grail quest nonetheless. In the story, her friend is killed in a car accident at a specific intersection in Bucksport. I was in a car accident at that very intersection in Bucksport in September of 2001. Given that I have only traveled the intersection ten times at the most, this strikes me as a big coincidence.

Maybe the answer is obvious and it is only self-imposed limitation – FEAR – that keeps me from seeing it clearly and taking the necessary next step.

I had a destination in mind with the series of dreams I’ve been posting. I’ve been taking the back roads to a particular point. The question is how to approach 2012 and whatever that may mean: the transition of the ages, earth changes, earth initiation, mass extinction or ascension . . .

Some are hunkering down. They are discussing where in the world to flee, what to hoard, how to fortify themselves with the arms, skills and materials they’ll need to survive.

I can only respectfully say what I feel in my heart to be true: approaching this period with a bunker mentality is the exact opposite of what we need for our highest good and the highest good concerned.

Ever since I was a child, certain words and phrases have hung in the air and glowed for me. The glowing words turn up repeatedly in chains of meaningful coincidence. Over time, they become laden with mysterious significance, and if I follow them, they eventually lead into deeper mysteries. One of my longtime glowing words first came to me courtesy of Led Zeppelin: there are two paths you can go by . . .

Reality is usually not so clear. We face an apparent maze of many highways and byways, but underlying it all are two basic directions. You can label them with various names, but I prefer LOVE vs. FEAR. In one way or another, we approach that fork and make that choice countless times each day. Most of us are inconsistent in our choices, so we tend to walk a rambling road of alternating directions. But our daily choices have a net effect. They add up and the sum total determines the fundamental direction of our lives. Similarly, our individual choices add up and the sum total determines the overall direction of humanity. Ultimately, our choices serve to expand one or the other – LOVE or FEAR – in the world, even the universe. We have free will (more glowing words), and intentionally or not, we shape our world with our choices.

Some forks in the road are milestones, and choices we make there are weighted with profound significance. I believe what we are approaching is a historic milestone for our species, our planet.

We can rationalize all we want, but at the root, it’s either one or the other. LOVE or FEAR. The bunker approach – arming, hoarding, hunkering down – is the path of FEAR. Walking this path expands the principle of FEAR at a critical point in history. Perhaps it might help a couple of those who travel it to survive a cataclysmic event, but at what cost? Is survival on such terms worthwhile? Basically, the means determine the ends. A path rooted in FEAR leads to a more fearful world.

I have no idea what will happen as we spiral down the hourglass of the age, but my inner voice, my dreams, my every intuition tell me that FEAR is the last thing we need. My feeling is that we need to release our small-minded expectations and embrace the potentiality of change with open hearts and minds – with LOVE. We need to cooperate with each other and evolve with our planet. Come what may.

Meeting change is a lot like meeting waves in the ocean. If you meet a wave with fear, you’ll try to hold your place. You’ll be rigid and the water will hit you like bricks. But if you welcome the wave with love, you’ll be flexible and light on your feet. The wave will lift you up and take you somewhere else.

That’s what I choose: LOVE. Somewhere else.

BUT . . . as I mulled over these thoughts and gathered the courage to post them here, I had a dream that seemed to throw a major monkey wrench into everything. At the risk of boring readers but in the name of honesty, I am including the whole dream. The catastrophe and monkey wrench occur in the last five paragraphs:

Dream: Global Catastrophe

On 12/30/07 I dreamt that my husband and I were looking at a house in Maine. I went out into the yard, took a handful of dirt and brought it to my face. I breathed it in deeply and thought about how much I love the earth of this place.

Later we were in Newark with my mother-in-law, Christmas shopping I guess. I volunteered to drive us home (in a little MG we were driving for some reason), but then I realized that my mother-in-law had wandered across the street. We waited for her, and while we waited, some man approached us in a strange and aggressive manner. He ended up retreating, but then my mother-in-law almost went out into the street in front of an oncoming car. We went to help her. By the time we all were back in the little car – a tight squeeze – my shoes were off and I couldn’t get them back on. I was rattled from all the scares and frustrations. I told my husband I was sorry but I couldn’t drive after all. My husband said he understood and took the wheel.

Next thing I knew, the three of us were in store that rented gift boxes. I was trying to find the right size for an oversized children’s outfit. The box I found was too big – they said it would cost $2.75 to rent. I responded that there was a lot of wasted space in it and I wanted to find a better fitting box. The whole point of the store was conserving paper products involved in gift giving.

Meanwhile, my mother-in-law was looking for Christmas cards. I was looking too, it seems. Somehow we ended up at someone’s house looking for cards. They had some stacks there and we were waiting for a turn to look through them. Our goal was frustrated by the fact that they were currently in the hands of an inconsiderate young woman who kept looking up from them to chat with her friends for twenty minutes at a time. My mother-in-law was getting nervous. I was getting mad. Finally I said “Forget it – I don’t have the time to wait all day for a turn to look at these cards. I don’t need them. It’s after Christmas anyway.” I was wondering how we would convince my mother-in-law that she didn’t need them either when she emerged from another room with one card in her hand. It happened to have both her name and her recipient’s name on the front of it. At first I thought it was a custom card, but it turned out to be a regular pre-made commercial card. “Perfect!” we said, remarking on the coincidence. “You can’t beat that!” Then I realized that the design on the front of the card was a cross made of blocks, each block with its own symbol.

Somewhere in here a thin little man with a pinched face announced that there would be a global catastrophe soon and that we had better hoard food and stash cash to prepare for it. He gave us the date, but we didn’t pay attention. He seemed like a mean wacko. It wasn’t clear if he meant what he was saying as a threat or as a prophecy.

Next thing I knew, we were in our kitchen with my mother-in-law. The little man was there, too. He started talking and it wasn’t clear if we were hearing him in person or on the radio. He was saying that the day had arrived and that in X seconds there would be a big blast that would definitely get our attention, even if it was ten thousand miles away. He was sneering. At this point, I was taking his message to be threat, not prophecy. I waited for the prescribed seconds to count down to see if he was for real or just a wacko. At the end of the count down, there was quiet for an extra second or two. Just when I was starting to think it was a false alarm, the lights cut off and the ground shook. There was an ominous rumbling in the distance. The lights returned at brown-out level. The alarm on the stove went off and my mother-in-law apologized for having set it. I went to turn it off and found it set at 10. I turned it to zero and it stopped (it was an old-fashioned timer with a knob).

Now I found myself wishing that I had heeded the warning and stashed cash for this day. I had no idea what had happened and what would happen next. I didn’t even know if having cash mattered at all, but I was thinking it would have been better to have it. Wouldn’t it? Maybe it could make some kind of key difference for us in the chaos that would surely follow. Maybe it would make me feel a little safer. All I knew was that what I was feeling now was horrible beyond words.

The little man resumed his address. He sounded smug that the explosion had gone off as planned or foretold, and he was telling us that we were doomed. Soon the rains will come, he said, and they will carry death. Life on our planet would never be the same.

How could we survive in the little man’s new world? It sounded like hell on earth. What had happened? I wondered if the little man was involved in the detonation of massive nuclear devices. An image came to my mind of a chunk of the globe encompassing Canada being blown clear away, but I had no idea if it was correct. Enraged, I started pounding the little man in my kitchen. I was hauling off and punching him repeatedly in his face and head, but his gloating voice continued on the radio. I realized that the little man in our kitchen was just a man-shaped figure of rags.

Thankfully, I woke up.

- - -

I am going to let this sit as is for now. This was different from the previous earth change dreams I’ve been posting. I definitely have thoughts on its meaning, but I am still processing. For now, I post it all without further comment. Except to wish us all the strength to make our own choices, consciously and with full intent, in the new year and beyond.

Another dream with an earth change theme . . .

In the fall of 2003, I dreamt I was going about my business in an unfamiliar city. I was trying to get something to eat but one thing or another was standing in my way. I think there was a conflict with a deli owner who would not serve me. But then all those frustrations became irrelevant. One disaster after another was breaking out. Tornadoes. Earth quakes. Dump trucks hurling through the air and crashing on the street. Buildings collapsing. I was in the thick of it. Naturally at first I was terrified. But when I saw a dump truck hurtling toward me, I instinctively sprang forty feet away as if I were wearing elfin power boots.

It was a revelation.

All my life I had been so fearful of potential catastrophes. Now all hell was breaking loose around me and I suddenly understood what to do. I suddenly felt SAFE, probably for the first time ever.

“I get it!” I exclaimed. “Just get out of the way!”

And that’s what I did. I sprang my way safely through the chaos – lightly, effortlessly, even joyously. Like I said, it was a revelation.

Then I felt a presence pick me up and hold me with overwhelming love. I became lucid and the dream dissolved.

Yet another installment in this week’s series on dreams with apocalyptic and/or earth change themes:

On May 2, 2006, I dreamt I was back at a strange company (“back” would make it my old company but the world was futuristic) where I was given an enormous office in the VIP area. It was a huge apartment, many times bigger than my little house and absolutely beautiful. The decor surpassed my wildest dreams. Need I say I loved it?

There was some intrigue with priests. Several of us were going around in PJs. Once again, I was some kind of outlaw.

Outside I went. There were others out there who were not so lucky as the people inside the company. Upon observing them, my part in the story suddenly shifted so that I was one of them. The world outside was rough. There were frequent acid rain falls. If you didn’t find shelter, the rain would burn and corrode your flesh. The land was ruined and sandy. I don’t remember seeing any green at all. There was a huge elevated race track hoisted high above the ruined city. There were always cars speeding on it.

There was a camp for the common folk – shelter if you could get in, but there wasn’t enough room for everyone, so you had to be selected for residency. Suddenly I was a kid approaching the camp with my siblings. We were going to see if we’d be chosen. I had mixed feelings because on one hand, the camp was safe from the elements, but on the other, you sacrificed your freedom when you became a resident.

My siblings and I were selected as if for a kickball team on a playground. The next thing I knew, I was viewing the elevated race track from above with Commander Riker from Star Trek TNG. I thought to myself that this would make a good SF story. That’s all I remember.

The following is another installment in the series of dreams with apocalyptic themes that I began here.

On 6/11/06, I dreamt that I was walking along the shore when I observed super high waves. I saw that there were people riding the waves, like surfers without boards. One of them was wearing a T-shirt with some kind of phrase or emblem that made me realize I was one of them. We all were tuned into the same frequency, following the same calling.We reached the shore at the special place that has long called me in real life. We were being called there for some kind of earth event.

Suddenly it was upon me to lead everyone, but I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t want to mislead, so I was at a loss as to what to do. I decided to silence my mind, follow my intuition and walk. And so I did, with the others following, until I led us away from the shore, over the road and across a field. Then we came upon a strange circle of stones and ritualistic objects. I asked those around me to stop and wait here to allow the group to gather.

Later I saw boulders moving up a mountain on their sides, so I urged everyone up that mountain. Then, in my mind, I decided it was a certain mountain that is special to me in real life. I am not sure, but I may have forced that identity onto the mountain instead of just letting it emerge. At any rate, when we reached the top, the world around us was transformed so that it was dark, red and smoky with volcanoes erupting all around.

But this latter part was abstract, or viewed from a distance, as in a movie. I found my dream self again in the formal gardens of a mansion from the gilded age. I was trying to find the secret to transformation – initiation. There was some secret word or key I needed.

People were not pleased about me being at the mansion. There were many guests about in twenties clothes. There was a butler in formal butler-wear. I was alone at a stone patio table in the garden. I found there was lunch there and I ate it, though afterwards I worried that I had taken liberties. I couldn’t remember how I had come upon the lunch.

There was some kind of intrigue with a dark secret and the couple who owned the place and a butler. I think the wife ended up killing the butler. This was going on in the background, but I wasn’t particularly interested in it. I was trying to uncover my own secret and it was of a completely different nature.

Somehow “turkey” was important – I realized it was the secret word I was looking for. Then I found myself at the top of a needle-like tower. Turkey tower? I thought to myself and then jumped off the top, sailing downward spread eagle.

On the way down, there were remarkable thoughts and experiences that unfortunately I cannot remember/make sense of outside the dream. But I do remember the ending: I opened my heart and by my own will dissolved myself before I hit the ground.

* * *

When I woke, I immediately transcribed the dream to my best recollection. “Turkey” stood out in more ways than one. Many years ago, when I was in high school, I had a dream in which the word “turkey” occurred with strange and inexplicable importance. Now here it was again, this time as a secret word or key. Right away I saw “turn key” in it. Then I connected the tower to the Tower key in the Tarot and meditated on it.

Little did I know that I my own Tower experience was starting to set up in shadows and would arrive that fall.

On 4/23/06, I dreamt I was with a number of people out in the wilderness. It was a ruined resort that had been abandoned by its staff. We were using it as a camp. Things were strange and perilous. The world had taken some kind of turn. The sunlight was harsh and orangey. The wilderness was wild and tangled. It was hot. The stars in the night sky were different. Maybe there were just more of them visible, but in the dream, I pointed out to the others some key difference in Orion, I believe, though I don’t know enough about the constellations in real life to convey that difference now.

We were traveling on foot back to the camp/resort. It was dangerous to travel through what we were calling “the open country” like this. People were getting “picked off.” I don’t know how or by whom. And I don’t know why we were traveling despite the danger. But I was a leader of some sort. I was climbing deftly through the wilderness and ruins, pointing out the way for others. When I realized I was doing this, my mind revolted – I can’t do this, I thought. But I was quickly surprised with my adroitness in picking a safe way through the peril. I had never ever in my life moved with such agility, confidence and precision.

Back at the camp, I greeted people and was received warmly. I was surprised by the reception then realized that my vibrations were high and because of this, I was bringing positive energy to the camp. I knew that this was the key for us all – to vibrate at a high level. I wondered how to convince a group of holed up materialists in dire straights that we all need to raise our vibrations.

Before or after this, while we were traveling again, something crashed out of the sky, landing in the brush nearby. And then another thirty or so feet away from the first. Both turned out to be dead deer. I explored the brush near the area and found a dead bird and a dead cat as well. All had fallen out of the sky. People wondered if this was a sign that “the end times” were indeed upon us. “This way,” I said, pointing out a path.

Again we were traveling on foot with packs on our backs. We crossed a lake via narrow planks. Somewhere along here it was night and I pointed out the difference in Orion.

On the other side, a few of us had made it inside another ruined resort – just a few – while most were still traveling or back at the other camp. Someone suggested that we take the $200,000 the previous owners of the camp/resort had left behind and divide it among us, ditching all the others who weren’t there yet. I surprised myself again by making a powerful speech in protest.

Money is irrelevant now, I said. Our survival depends on our cooperation. We are on the edge of a knife. These are potentially our final days. Do you want your last act in life to be one of selfishness and greed, or do you want to stand for cooperation and possibly survive?

My speech convinced people to ignore the $200,000 and rejoin the others. I had never before spoken with such power.

Despite the dire circumstances of the dream world, the dream was a positive experience for me. It felt good to have my expression flowing so clearly and well, and to be able to contribute accordingly.

The days stream by me, wisps of clouds. My thoughts play vigorously in my head, meaning so much to me but making no impression in the outer world. There is a chasm between where I reside and what I manage to express.

Since I am currently unable to marshal my thoughts and bring them out through the front door, I will go round the back. I will share some of my dreams.

A friend and I have taken to sharing dreams, at first with each other and then in a small group. We both believe that, at this critical point in history, sharing dreams is worthwhile. We each possess within us little mysterious fragments of truth. The idea is to share and share alike, because you never know what your fragments may mean to someone else. And you never know how someone else may be able to shine meaning onto the pieces you have.

On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, the day Uranus stationed direct, my friend had an epic apocalyptic dream – a standout dream of a lifetime. That dream is not mine to share, but on the same night, I had a small dream in which I saw a city – New York, I assumed – under water so deep that only the top quarter of its tallest skyscrapers was visible. As catastrophic as the scene may sound, in my dream it was peaceful. The water was so placid, so smooth and reflective, it looked like a mirror. On its surface floated dozens of pretty spirals that looked like rubbery decorative things you’d stick to the floor of your bathtub to keep from slipping. There was a profound quiet, like a meadow blanketed in snow. That was all.

Inspired by those two dreams, I have mined my more recent journals for other dreams with apocalyptic/earth change themes. I will post them here over the next few days, although some of them are mildly embarrassing.