I’ve no idea whether Phyllis was giving me a prod from the other side. Is there any definitive proof – either way – on whether we carry on in some form after bodily death?
300 or so years of science still cannot explain human consciousness. Nor telepathy, remote viewing or thousands of accounts of near-death experiences. Or dreams.
Some years after moving to Chelmsford, I dreamed that my old school mate John Madden came to me, very upset. I had not seen him for several years. I threw my arms around him, while he sobbed. Several weeks later, I was told by a mutual friend that John’s mum had recently died.
Here’s a true story, with a witness. I took Rory on a camping holiday in North Norfolk in August 2013, with Jono and his family. I had slept outside under the stars to view the Perseid meteor showers, in the clear skies. On the third night Jono joined me. I got up for a piss at about 3.30 a.m. And noticed three sets of lights in the field behind us, no more than 80 yards away. Each set comprised three orb-like lights, in triangular formation. The three triangles were moving in an unpredictable motion, slightly jerky, almost synchronised, almost in a dance. Accompanied by odd metallic sounds. Then a beam of distinct red and black fractals travelled just above the ground to the field’s furthest perimeter.
Horses in the field sounded terrified.
The lights continued to wobble; were coming a little closer when I decided to wake Jono. My old mate fear was knocking hard, and I wanted a witness to what would otherwise be written off as my dreaming or drunkenness. By the time he was alert, two sets of the lights had disappeared. The third seemed to split into its three constituents, wavering fitfully in varying directions. We watched for around ten minutes. The orbs continued to move unpredictably over the grass. We heard or saw no humans on the field, nor any vehicles. As a small amount of light had appeared to the east, the orbs began to fade. In a minute they had vanished. Neither of us could begin to explain it.
Chomping it over the following week, I remembered that two days before the incident I had slept outside alone, watching some quite astonishing meteor showers. And the usual procession of planes across the sky. But other types of moving lights were up there. Again, they were moving oddly, erratically. Just for the hell of it, I said: “If you really are up there, show me something.”
That’s how it was. Jono may tell it differently. Make of it what you will. Neither of us were anally probed.
Two dreams that I recorded in July 2001 meant nothing at the time. I found them again years later. These are the words I wrote:
* I stick my head out of a window in quite a large city, and a rocket whistles past me, only yards away, on a low trajectory and quite obviously headed into the heart of the city.
* I was staying in a tall hotel, in a room somewhere on a higher floor. I couldn’t lock the door for some reason, so trusted that nobody would attempt to steal in and hurt me. Somehow this open attitude allowed me to hear noises outside the door. I peered out to see two Arab guys prising up the floorboards and placing a bomb in the space below.
Less than two months later the 9/11 attacks occurred on New York and Washington DC.
I know. It’s tenuous.
I have no clue how the universe distributes its information, nor any expectation that its secrets will be revealed to me. But maybe human consciousness is the most powerful yet unreliable force mankind will ever have access to.
Any ideas Mum?
The Biscuit Factory 