After writing, Hiding in Plain Sight, a story about the possible discovery of an Indian Burial Mound on my neighbors’ property, I began to reflect back on my own near death experience, (NDE) three years ago April 2005. I was in church helping out at a funeral for a 17 year old boy in our congregation, when I suffered a near fatal brain aneurysm.
Long story short, I survived unscathed after going through five brain surgeries during my 20 days in the hospital. This event happened three years before, almost to the day of the Indian Burial mound revelation. My doctors later told me, “I was more dead than alive when I was first brought in.” During my hospital stay I had an NDE which included a series of vivid dreams that coincidentally came true.
I will talk about two of these many dreams in print for the first time here. In all of these dreams, I was always aware of a very protective superior entity that literally babysat me as I hovered between the two realms of the living and dead. I came to name this entity, “Spirit Face.”
The first dream was good. During one late night surgery, I dreamt I’d turned into a marble size golden phosphorescent orb of light. I somehow made my way to my father’s larynx that had been damaged during a recent surgery. He was terminally ill and only lived another eight months after my dilemma. Knowing he didn’t have long to live, he was greatly frustrated by not being able to voice his final thoughts to the family. In this dream, once I located the problem in his throat, in orb form, I hovered over the damaged spot acting like an eraser on a blackboard.
The following morning, my mother called me and I could hear Dad’s voice clear as a bell in the background. Shocked and happy at the same time I asked, “When did Dad get his voice back?” Mom replied, “Late last night while you were in surgery, he kept pointing to his throat as if he felt something. Then he woke me up 5:00 this morning to tell me he could speak again.”
The second dream was like no NDE I’d ever heard of. Spirit Face took me on a journey to see my former boss who’d been backstabbing me and endangering my safety. This former boss’s actions did force me to quit my job when I wouldn’t help cover up political corruption going on under his watch. Several months after I quit working for him, he almost got too close to me with his vehicle as I was walking through a local parking lot. Apparently, Spirit Face was quite angry at my former boss, Dan.
Spirit Face and I somehow made our way to my former boss’s armpit. I telepathically asked, “What are we doing in Dan’s armpit?” Spirit Face replied, “I’m going to mess with his DNA.” This dream haunted me for about two years as I wondered what kind of guardian angel would want to do such a thing. You can imagine how spooked I was when I did learn Dan was dying of a lymphoma disease he was diagnosed with not long after this dream.
After writing about the Indian burial mound, I began to wonder who could be interred in it. It is a large mound and after research learned usually the tribe’s elite members were interred in the larger mounds. The elite included Chiefs and Shamans. Then I began to research about Shamans.
As per Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shamanism, a Shaman with help from the spirit world can both heal and cause illness. Many times after an NDE a tribal member would hear the spiritual calling and become a Shaman themselves. After reading this, the hair on back of my neck literally stood up on end. I was now aware of what Spirit Face was and where he came from. The next question, did Spirit Face want me to act as a kind of White/Indian hybrid mediator between the white and the red, the living and the dead.
I’m not ready for the full blown responsibility of becoming a Shaman, but decided Spirit Face did want me to tell someone in authority in my realm, the land we’re living on is considered sacred burial ground. Spirit Face doesn’t seem to mind our co-existence but is tired of hiding in plain sight. I took the first arrowhead I found over to neighbors, a sheriff and his school teacher wife; I felt could be discreet in getting my information to the right political leaders, one who grew up in this very neighborhood.
So far, things in the neighborhood seem to be calm, though some of the cops who live here look somewhat stunned. Perhaps they heard something through the “Blue Grapevine.” Perhaps like me, they wonder how this will affect our property values if this neighborhood secret gets out. Then the Indian side of me came out.
Remembering the power Spirit Face exhibited during my NDE “dreams,” sometimes it’s better to risk a few real estate dollars then to incur the wrath of something so spiritually powerful, we’re literally living on top of. If making select members of this new neighborhood aware of the old neighborhood we’re built on is Spirit Face’s only request, then I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.
A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words : A photographic essay of early springtime in my new Northern Virginia neighborhood.
Hiding in Plain Sight : Guest writer Alyce Clover writes about finding Indian arrowheads, and discovering her neighborhood may be built on a Native American burial site.
This and That Pandemic Day One Hundred Eleven : Day one hundred eleven of staying safer at home during the Coronavirus pandemic.