posted on Feb, 2 2007 @ 08:25 AM
Five or six weeks ago, I had a disturbing dream about George, an elderly relative who lives approx. 1000 kilometers away.
I'd had no contact with George for approx. 3 months, prior to having the dream. The dream came out of the blue.
In the dream, George was on his back, on the ground. It was night-time. He was in agony and struggling to rise, but couldn't.
I saw and could feel George's emotions of extreme despair.
He felt he was old. His body wouldn't do what he wanted it to do. This humiliated, depressed and frightened him. He felt utterly alone. He
could see no reason to go on, yet his body insisted on struggling to live.
Nearby, neighbours were going about their business. It was a very hot night and people were still up, unable to sleep. Some were on their verandahs,
seeking a breeze. Others were playing cards, their doors and windows open. I saw all this.
In the dream, I wondered why they weren't going to George's assistance.
George was grimacing, tears running down his face as he struggled silently and alone on the ground, in the dark. His torment was as much mental as
I woke up crying.
For three or four days after the dream, I struggled to shake off heavy depression. During that time I briefly related the dream to family members,
who advised me not to dwell on it, saying: " It's just a dream."
I'd always had an uneasy relationship with George. More recently he'd become quite moody and difficult, due to age and infirmity and our last phone
call had not been pleasant. Because of this, I hesitated about contacting him after I had the dream.
In the end, I didn't. We had visitors arriving from overseas as well as various family celebrations to arrange. The visitors planned to travel to
see George the following week. I hoped this would cheer him up.
The visitors came and left and life went back to normal. I'd succeeded in pushing the dream to the back of my mind and in convincing myself it had
been, after all, " only a dream ".
Then, last week, I sent a gift to George for his birthday.
Today, he phoned to thank me. He was much more lucid and pleasant than he'd sounded for some time and the conversation flowed easily for a
Then George told me that a few nights ago, on the 29th of January, he'd had one of the worst experiences of his life.
He said he'd mistakenly believed it was his birthday (which was actually a day later) and had felt very despondent because none of his family had
bothered to get in touch. Always a heavy drinker, George had decided to celebrate alone with a cask of claret.
The day had been extremely hot and humid. George had steadily consumed the wine, alone, mulling over his life, losses, failures, disappointments,
As he told me this, George freely admitted that he'd drunk far more than was wise, adding the wine had tasted better and better as the day wore
Then, early in the evening, when he attempted to rise, he'd collapsed heavily to the ground in the annexe at the rear of his place. To his horror
and disbelief, he'd been unable to get up. He said mentally, emotionally and physically, he was trapped in a waking nightmare.
George said he'd never been so frightened or despairing in his life. He said he had been on his back, on the ground, and no matter how he tried, he
could not get to his feet. He'd struggled for hours in the heat and darkness. " Getting old is bloody horrible." he added. " I thought to
myself: this is the end. You're dying. Just give up and let go. There's nothing to live for anyway." But his body wouldn't quit and insisted
on 'fighting' as he described it, to get up, to keep on living.
Interrupting, I said: " I know. I saw it in a dream."
" When ! " George asked, incredulously.
" About a month or more ago, in a dream."
" You're kidding ! "
I assured him I'd witnessed his struggle in the dream and added: " But in the dream, I saw people around you and wondered why they weren't helping
George insisted there had been no-one with him.
I told him again that (in the dream) I'd seen neighbours close by, virtually overlooking George's struggle from where they stood on their
George replied that this was true, that he'd heard his nearby neighbours as he'd struggled in the dark. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him in that
condition, he said, so he hadn't called out for help.
This confirmed the silent struggle I'd witnessed in the dream.
Speaking with him on the phone today, I didn't embarrass him by mentioning that in the dream I'd seen his tears of utter despair, not only regarding
his immediate situation, but in relation to his entire life's journey.
George concluded by telling me that since his ordeal, he'd been to the doctor and had also been read the riot act by his son, regarding drinking to
excess in the heat. The doctor had apparently told George he was lucky to be alive, considering the strain he'd imposed on his body. George assured
me his ordeal had made him realise it was time to practise moderation. He said it had been well after midnight before he'd managed to drag himself
to his feet and make his way inside, where he collapsed on his bed, exhausted.
I'd clearly had a precognitive dream regarding George's experience.
His ordeal had not occurred in reality until approx. 5 weeks later.
During his ordeal, George had sent out a 'distress call', which I had picked-up via my dream.
Yet I'd picked up that distress call 5 weeks in advance of the actual event.
Curiously, when George lived the ordeal in reality ( a few days ago ) I did not this time pick up his distress call and slept peacefully while George
struggled for real.
It's theorised that Past, Present and Future are all occurring simultaneously, rather than progressing in linear fashion.
Is anyone able to explain how that theory can be applied to the events in this post, because I'm at a loss.
When was the 'Present' --- when I dreamed of George's struggle, or when he actually experienced it ?