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Clairvoyent Dreams

Since my teenage years, I’ve had dreams that come true. Sometimes the next day, sometimes a week or two months, or even half a year later.

It’s not that I have a dream and keep track of it.

As I’m going through my day or a particular event, I’ll suddenly realize that I dreamed that moment or that event.

Entire movies I’ve never seen before. I dreamed all of the first Underworld movie. Troy. Most recently, the Cirque du Soliel movie. I realized about 3/4 of the way through it that I’d dreamed nearly the entire movie not long ago.

Was I remote-viewing while the movie was being made, perhaps? Maybe. But since a movie takes months to make, unlikely. Might I have remote viewed while someone was watching it during editing? Maybe.

How they come into my dreams remains a mystery I really don’t try to figure out.

But it can get very scary.

I remember a particular stretch of about two weeks while I was about 14 or 15 years old. Every night I had a dream that would come true the next day. Every damn night. Sometimes more than one. I remember feeling exasperated that so much of what was happening through a day was a deja vu moment.

At the end of that two week period, I had a dream of nuclear war. In the dream, it happened while I was walking to my weekend bowling league, then I was trying to escape to a safe place and ended up in the hills somewhere.

The next day when I woke up, I dressed and left for my bowling league. As I was passing the park, I looked up to the sky and saw exactly what I had in my dream. It’s a frightening moment, for a 14/15 year old girl, to realize how many dreams have come true in the last two weeks…and then have a deja vu moment that happened in a dream about nuclear war.

Took me a few weeks to get over that.

My daughter is still pre-teen, but she frequently tells me that she has this moment or that moment come true from a dream. I don’t for one second disbelieve her. Instead, I’m preparing myself for the day she has a really bad predictive dream and I have to help her through it.

I don’t remember exactly when mine started but I’ve shared with her the stories I can so she knows that I do understand.

Seems it runs in the family — or at least this vine of the family.


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