Whose dream? Not mine, but that of a very intuitive psychic female friend. In fact, she said she had the dream twice. The first time she figured it might be about a part of herself that she had projected onto me; but if not, she resolved to at least email me the next day to tell me how much she appreciates me. Then she fell back asleep, and, asking for more information, received a much more insistent dream, “Ann Kreilkamp is dead,” over and over, like “a bell tolling,” she said, “at least 70 times . . . one for every year of your life?” (I’m 75.) In any case, she no longer thought it was about her, and knew she needed to contact me, especially since I’m concerned that we make plans now for “continuity of government” here in Green Acres Village before I die.
Well, as you can imagine, the first time I read through her recounting of the dreams I was shocked. The repeated statement, “Ann Kreilkamp is dead,” just kept reverberating through me like a curse! I kept trying to bat it away . . . but just in case, immediately called son Colin to tell him about the dream, and to begin to make plans to make sure everything IS in order before I die, so that he can work with the GAV Board as they move through the transition to a legal structure that doesn’t need my resources or energy to continue and evolve in the direction I, and we, have set for it. I also decided on a a few people who might function as his advisory council as he works with the sudden loss of his mother, for that’s what it felt like, some kind of sudden loss.
I then called a person that has been close to me for decades, one who holds, in his own heart, the kind of vision I hold here; to me, he is the one who would have both the time and the inclination to help Colin through the transition.
He didn’t pick up, but called back as I was parking at the grocery store, and we sat and talked for 20 minutes.
He said he was utterly stunned at my news, “Ann Kreilkamp is dead,” and especially at the fact that I had immediately thought of him as the first person for Colin to lean on should this come to pass.
Why? Because he had just in the past day or two made the decision to sell his house and move here, to Bloomington, to be with us. So, the Board’s common vision of continuing to expand the village within the neighborhood, already begins to bear fruit!
My psychic friend had told me that she felt the dreams were connected to Jeff (my deceased husband, with whom I have been in episodic communication since he died in 2003). See This Vast Being for what went on during the first year after his death. And frankly, the over-the-top dramatic intensity of both dreams does sound like something that vast being might do, just to get my attention.
And actually, as I told my psychic friend, the very evening of the night she had the dreams, I had been watching a movie on Netflix and could feel, for the first time ever, a spirit next to and above my left side, watching, and chuckling alongside me. Jeff?
Oops! Wait a minute. Remember Carlos Casteneda’s advice from his shaman, Don Juan, that “death walks by your left shoulder”?
Either way, something was palpably there, to my left, as I watched the movie.
Okay. Let’s now abbreviate the statement “Ann Kreilkamp Is Dead” to AKID — as in “I kid you not,” or maybe, “I kid you?”
For that is what the entire saga feels like at this point. It feels like we are now in Round Two of a situation where I am told, by some external authority, that I’m about to die, and my response is completely unexpected, not only to me, but to others in my circle. The backstory:
That first time, Round One, was in early 2008, ten years ago. I had thought I had appendicitis, and very reluctantly went to the EM at 2:00 AM, after feeling an insistent, but intermittent pain in my lower right torso area for at 24 hours. I have yet to publish the long version of that story, which, believe me, will be well worth waiting for, but here’s the short version:
I was told that I had a significant mass in my pancreas, and that I would need to see a doctor ASAP. Having no doctor (I don’t “do” doctors), I was glad that I had gone to the EM, because that way I could be assigned one. So I did that, but three days passed before I could get an appointment. Meanwhile, of course, I went on the Internet, and figured I had pancreatic cancer, with maybe two weeks left of life.
The story of what happened during those three days is where the precious jewel of larger meaning bloomed. For I discovered several things during this period of time: 1) that I was very ready to “die,” in fact welcomed it; and 2) that I needed to alert those close to me as to this close eventuality, and to let them know that I was ready and willing to go. As a result, I, who lived alone at that time, spent most of those three days on the phone drinking in extraordinarily warm and loving conversations with all my familiars, both family and others. These conversations, utterly vulnerable and authentic, both somber and solemn in tone, appeared to germinate a frequency or vibrational field of intense loving energy, as if we were all immersed in an immense, nourishing atmosphere.
Then, while doing tai chi on the evening before I was to see the doctor (for the same pain which, by this time, had completely disappeared) I sensed a large group of spirits swishing around me, all joyous, as if they were clinking glasses in congratulation. Why? Because, I was told, their experiment had worked! They had chosen me, as one who did not fear death, and who would then use the occasion of deathing as an opportunity to generate a powerful field of love. Would this ruse work? Would this kind of experiment actually jump-start such a transformative frequency field? The answer was a resounding YES.
Needless to say, the next day, I discovered that the original CT scan was wrong; an MRI revealed the “mass” to be in the liver, where it is most likely no big deal.
So, forward to yesterday, when I received the transcripts from my friend of her two amazing dreams, insisting that AKID. Hmmm? True? Am I to die soon? Actually, especially the second dream, with its at least 70 reiterations of AKID, felt so over the top that it wasn’t too long before I suspected we were in Round Two of AK’s deathing tales.
And what’s fascinating to me, is that this time, as the day wore on, instead of the solemnity of phone calls to my familiars, I started to experience the entire drama as hilarious. So that, by the time my young housemate Dan arrived home (he had been away overnight; likewise my other young housemate Alex; so this experience was just me alone), and I told him, and of course, he went into shock, until I kept intoning AKID and its cognates over and over again. Like, when going in to take a shower, or out to the back yard for a moment, solemnly: “I may not see you ever again. . . .” We started cracking up. The atmosphere had morphed into over the top funny.
Now, you may say, I still might soon die. The dreams may prove to be prophetic (this woman does have prophetic dreams of others’ dying); so why am I laughing? Well, why AM I laughing? Because I know that I — the fiery spirit that utilizes this aging body — won’t die, can’t die? Yes. I’m sure of it. I’ve had too many out of body experiences to think that I AM my body. And so now, I’m fascinated with the specific qualities of the frequency field that seems to be generating from Round Two of AKID. For if Round One was solemn, this second one feels downright playful.
The first seemed to generate a field of love, and perhaps — this thought has just now occurred to me — it might have been that precise personal drama that invisibly birthed the powerful field of love that now pervades our experiment in Green Acres Village!
This second round feels utterly carefree. The love field is assumed, assured, automatically; now, the question becomes, how can we humans learn how to let to go of our bodies easily “when the time comes”? And how can we turn fearful dirges into tearful celebrations? Time will tell.
P.S. If I do “kick the bucket” soon I’ll make sure beforehand that someone can get into this blog and tell the tale.
P.P.S. IF I live, then I have the feeling this post on AKID will turn into a series. Meanwhile, for Round Two I don’t need to call all my familiars, since I can just send them this post! Ah. the wonders of 2018 technology.
A few more possible death poses: