died & reborn - in Tasmania!

B, a few other people and I were going somewhere. We travelled the busy streets of a city until we arrived at the entrance of a lofty sky-scraper. We ventured inside and walked through the corridors until we came to twin lifts. We pressed the button to call a lift and two lifts reached ground level at the same time. For some reason, B and someone else chose to ride one lift, whilst I stepped into the other with two men. The lifts both launched upward, scaling the floors of the building, up and up, with great speed. At some point, the men and I realised that our lift was racing too fast and had passed the level where we wanted to alight. The lift seemed to shoot out of the building into the sky, lose its momentum, then plummet back down through the building, free-falling down the shaft, out of control. I had had other falling lift experiences (in dreams) but I knew that this was different. I knew that the weight of the lift, falling from such an immense height, was far too much and that we would most likely die on impact. Rather than panicking, I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes and thanked God for my life on Earth. In the minute amount of time that it took to crash, I remembered as much as I could of my family and close ones, and recalled the beauty of nature. We hit the ground and everything went black. When I opened my eyes, I was in a different place with many other people, most of whom seemed to be of a similar age. I looked around and saw my friend, A, who had recently died. I was overjoyed to see her as she was to see me. She took my hand, leading me to the showers, where I stood under the water, fully clothed, and washed off my make-up and traces of my last life. We went outside and stretched out before me was the most magnificent landscape: tall eucalypts with grey green bark, intricately shaped shrubs bearing golden flowers, and a placid sea of blue water. I asked her where we were, now that we were dead, and she told me that we were in Tasmania. I was very surprised, having expected to arrive somewhere between worlds or at least more ethereal, but it seemed that I had died and been reborn in Tasmania. My mobile phone rang and I raced to open my bag in time to answer it before it went through to the message service, thinking it might be B or one of my family. I answered the phone but a mocking recorded voice spoke to me, suggesting that now I was dead, I might give my permission for everything I owned to be used as part payment for outstanding debt. I disconnected the call and cried. A asked me what was wrong and I told her that I felt so sorry for my family and for B who would be very grieved by my death. I mourned for them. She comforted me, knowing that this was valid, but then pointed the way forward, into the Tasmanian landscape. I then felt a sense of peace and optimism.

family & fish

Back in Newcastle again, staying with my family in the house we built and lived in when I was young. The extended family was having a discussion about where to live: we were all going to move to the country and live in the same region. There was mention of various sites from northern New South Wales, down as far as five hours south of Sydney. I felt simultaneously excited and panicked as I wondered how it would work and whether I could transport my life and relationships to live with my clan.
Next, I recall running in to see a wise woman about a problem. She looked into my eyes and told me that I had fish in my eyes and said that something occurred in 1924 or thereabouts that was affecting my life now. I didn't understand.

my work & water

I was busy with my work when a client called to ask for an urgent job. I didn't want to put aside my work as it was important to me but I agreed to do the client's work first. I prepared a design for some white folders and called again to find out the wording that was required to be printed on the folders. The client was out of the office on a 'wine date', according to the receptionist. I went to where I knew the client would be to discuss the wording as they had told me that the job was high-priority, but she was sitting with a large group of people, all drunk. I showed her the design and did my best to find out what she wanted on the folders but she was incoherent and careless. The receptionist showed up and she suggested some wording that could use. I felt disappointed and angry as the job was obviously of little importance and of less urgency than the client had earlier stated, otherwise she would have prioritised it as I had done, putting off my own work in the process.
Next, B and I drove around a strange car park and parked the car in a marked space bordered by water. We walked down to the swimming pool, looking forward to a peaceful and private swim. Approaching the pool via a different path, I could see a woman I know and her two friends, all with shades of red hair. A soundtrack seemed to accompany them - a well-known piece of classical music that has dark and imposing undertones. I hurried, urging B to hurry too, eager to enter the water before the other people arrived so as to create an ownership of the space. We waded into the beautiful blue and green water, moments before they walked into the space and also entered the water. The music that came with them increased in volume, filling my ears and causing my heart to pound. I started to talk about the music but it seemed that no-one else could hear it, only me. Some of the water drained out of the pool - there were too many people in the water - and we could see patches of sand here and there. I called to B, who was now walking around the outskirts of the pool, and asked if we could go to the ocean and find another swimming place there. She agreed so we left the others to the pool. As we walked away, I again noticed the red hair of all three people, swimming in the water. B and I returned to the car and navigated our way back onto the marked car space so that we could drive to the sea.

ghosts

I was with two friends, climbing the stairs to an old apartment above shops, somewhere in a city. The building was aged but, inside, the apartment was furnished with great care. I understood that it belonged to a friend of mine who has a particular gift of finding items of great aesthetic value in vintage stores. She had decorated the apartment with wonderful armchairs and tables and had covered the furniture with elaborately embroidered cloth, mostly in shades of black with vibrant jewel-coloured patterns. We sat at the table and I admired the heavy tablecloth, feeling the quality of the fabric between my fingers. Though there was so much to be admired in the apartment, we could sense a great heaviness about the place. We discussed it, acknowledging the weighty, oppressive feel of the place. Suddenly five ghosts, all men, walked through the wall and into the room. It became apparent that my two friends couldn't see them. The ghosts were of various ages and were transparent grey in colour; otherwise they looked like ordinary men. They said nothing but were evidently melancholy. It seemed that they were stuck here and I wondered if they were the previous occupants of the building or perhaps the original owners of the apartment's furnishings.

crocodile

I was standing with a group of about seven people, outside in a grassy space. We were conversing about something that I cannot now recall. A small brown crocodile, about a foot or so long, penetrated the group, walking between us and snapping at our ankles. Each person pushed it away, careful to avoid being bitten as, although it was so tiny, it had a vicious bite. It repeatedly attempted to bite each one of us and each time it tried, one of us pushed it away. We tried to carry on the conversation but we were distracted by the crocodile and its sharp teeth. It changed colour, turning grass green, and grew a little so that it was now about a metre long and more solid. Still, it tried to bite us, lunging with increasing strength and snapping its now powerful jaws, and still, we pushed it away, doing our best to carry on the conversation.

preparing to perform & a tip for recognition

I walked into a large field. Unusual plants, much like the succulents that grow wild across the sand on the shore of many beaches, covered the ground. I stopped to put on my shoes and then walked across the field. I discovered that a huge event was held here regularly: a concert of sorts. There was a vast auditorium in the middle of the field and people were lining up to get in. I went into the low-set buildings opposite the auditorium where the changing rooms were, to get ready for my performance. Inside the changing room was a clothes rack housing a wardrobe of fabulous outfits. I selected a long purple skirt and an elaborate white blouse, wrapped my head in a purple scarf and applied deep scarlet lipstick to my lips. George Clooney and Brad Pitt walked in, also preparing for their performance. George selected an amazing pink suit and Brad chose an equally eye-catching pale blue suit and they changed into them. George asked me my name and, being a little shy, I spoke quickly. "Chris," I said. He asked if I would mind if he gave me a tip and, of course, I listened. He said that when someone asked me my name, I should take my time to respond, to deliver the words clearly. He suggested I say, "My name is Christine. You can call me Chris." That way people would remember my name and respect me, just as I have respected myself. I applied pink mascara to my eyelashes and then I was ready. We left the changing rooms and crossed the grounds to the door of the auditorium. The concert was underway and there were many people seated inside although there were plenty of empty seats. I went inside and sat down the front, watching the performances. I recognised the woman I sat next to as a girl I knew when I was young. I said hello and she could see that she knew me from somewhere but couldn't recall how. I told her I was Chris Sharp - again I said my name quickly and unclearly. She looked vague and said she couldn't place me. I watched the show, wondering exactly what I was going to do when it came my turn to perform; would I sing, or speak or something else.

leaving my family

I was staying with my family and A was with me. It was in the hours before we were due to return home and we were organising flights over the Internet and packing our bags. Finally, we sat in the dining area, which was more like a restaurant than a home dining room with several tables in the room rather than one large table, and the entire family shared a meal. We ate and talked - a time of togetherness and community. I had the sense that A and I had done this before, that this was our second 'leaving', but I could not recall the details of the first event. Before we had finished our meals, A said that it was time to go. I glanced at my watch and realised that we had left it very late; we only had minutes to get to the airport before the plane was due to leave. I took a hasty bite of my fish and removed a long, thin bone from my mouth, then collected my handbag from under the table and stood to leave. My family were saddened and surprised that we had to leave so soon. Several family members followed me into another room inside the house to say their goodbyes. One by one, we embraced and I told them I loved them. There seemed to be immediate family members as well as grandmothers and great-grandmothers who are no longer alive. I knelt on the ground in front of my great-grandmother - a final farewell and a gesture of respect - and then left the house. A was on the street doing her best to hail a taxi. It was raining and night was falling. Cars and buses sped by but taxis were few and the ones we could see were occupied or turned off the street before passing us. I decided to phone and book a cab but the numbers on my mobile phone shifted around as I pressed them. Meanwhile, A was searching for our tickets as they had disappeared. She had unpacked the contents of her entire hand luggage and had it sprawled over a raised bank. I joined her and rifled through my hand luggage, looking for our tickets. We found other things: a lost silver ring, letters, towels, money and such, but no tickets. Too much time had lapsed and we had to accept that we had missed the plane. We calmed ourselves and repacked our things, deciding to go to the airport where we could order new tickets. A said that she was surprised that I didn't just stay with my family. I felt torn between this home and my home far away.