Rastaman Bob Marley
It was early September 1984. We were driving straight home from Oregon to Ohio after a summer on the road selling our handicrafts, and sightseeing with the family. It was definitely time to go home, money wise and nerves wise. I was taking a nap while (my ex since 2011) was driving. Bob Marley came into my dream...
Rastaman Bob Marley
He took me to a beautiful garden, filled with huge colorful flowers and a cute little bench with dark green ivy vines and gnarley wild grape vines growing beside it, the perfect frame for the beautiful, charismatic face of Bob Marley. I was inspired by his supreme presence and majesty, and in awe and wonderment of his POWER, even in a dream.

We hugged. I told him how much I love him and miss him. He knew, and was grateful. His energy vibrated love and compassion. My heart pounded and I laughed at the absurdity of it all. Yet it was happening on some other level of existence, a higher consciousness. I was having one of those lucid dreams, the ones Don Juan (Carlos Castenada) speaks of. You can actually think, know, and carry on a conversation while in a lucid dream as it is happening. It's just like when you are awake only you transport your ethereal body to another dimension while you are sleeping. You are aware of everything that is happening in real time. You totally remember everything when you wake in the morning.

"Your guides are speaking to you in your dreams. Dreams are how they speak to you when you have not yet made the commitment to listen to them during the waking state. You can communicate with them anytime.
Make an appointment with them. If you want them out of your dreams and into the waking state, tell them so. Make something of this opportunity to learn and grow your spiritual life. Always take control and open only to god-level consciousness. Open to God, the Saints, holy women and men in street clothing. Look at all as angels of mercy, fighting the 'armmegedian war'." Bob stared at me with the most piercing, beautiful, truly exquisite, light-filled eyes. "When are you going to do your writing?"

"What writing?"

"You know what writing my dear, the writing you have come to this life to manifest. Your guides are ready when you are ready to sit down in a meditative manner and wait for dictation. They will come to write. You will record what the say. All it takes is discipline. You were born to do this work, communication with the higher realms of consciousness. This is your destiny. The guides have been waiting for you to grow into the messenger you are meant to be."

I woke up with tears in my eyes. It was my turn to drive. All the way home I thought about the dream. What writing? I had written all my life, journals, poetry, letters, stories, and articles. But what did Bob mean by, "the writing you came here to manifest?"

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