We are a global community obsessed with dreams. Our minds lay out such comprehensive and curious worlds that we cannot imagine they are randomly generated or purposeless. Therefore we ponder them deeply. We consider what we may have encountered or ate that day to cause them. With hope we relay them to friends and family thinking that they may have a clue as to what is going on in these elusive scenarios. Sometimes, however, we find our own clue. Some dreams have a specific feel or obvious theme. This isn’t always or even generally comforting. A few years ago, I had what I knew was an apocalyptic dream. I’m not claiming it was prophetic, though it slightly felt that way.
As the dream began, I was standing outside the back door of a house that my grandparents lived in while I was growing up. I was looking at the night sky towards the northeast. At once there was a thin but very large representation of a black phoenix in the sky. It was like a stick figure and it had the appearance of something charred, sort of like the way a sparkler looks on the fourth of July after it has burned out. It was clearly the familiar and popular image of a phoenix, with the draped wings and head turned sideways. The back door was open behind me, but the screen door was shut. On the other side of the door in the kitchen was my dad, dressed in the clothes that he wears to bed. As a side note, my dad would not have been in that house for well over a couple of decades. I tried to get his attention to come out and look at the phoenix, but to no avail. He wouldn’t even acknowledge me.
I turned back around and looked up once again. Just to the right of where I saw the phoenix were trees blocking most of the east sky. At this point the sky, stars and all, began shifting to the left as if the earth was moving in an accelerated time lapse by an hour or two. Out from behind the trees emerged a second phoenix, distinctly different from the first, and much larger. This one was just the head and neck, facing to the left, and resembled ancient Mayan, Aztec or Incan art. It was very blocky with earth tone colors, and as the sky moved to the left, more of it emerged. Once again I went up to the door and beckoned my dad. This time he came out with me.
The next thing I know we are walking down a very large and long grassy hill somewhere in a remote location away from industry or traffic. As we approach the bottom, I notice there are many tents set up from the foot of the hill and extending beyond. They are like army barracks, or more likely, refugee tents. There are people all around them standing and talking, but no one seems to be in despair or discomfort. Once at the bottom to where we are almost among the people, small mushroom clouds like that of an atom bomb began randomly going off around us on the ground and in the air. They are very small, no higher than my waist, and are accompanied by a popping noise. They flash more than they erupt and are gone almost as soon as they arrive. The people aren’t alarmed and don’t directly acknowledge the popping mushroom clouds, but they almost immediately begin shifting direction and casually heading up the large hill. My dad and I begin following.
At some point a little way up the hill, the ground becomes jagged shale rock. They are sharp rocks and about the size of a hand, like you might find in a large driveway. I take several steps into them before I remember that my dad is barefoot. I turn around and tell him to get on my back so I can carry him. He is reluctant at first but then eventual does so. Once we get past the rocks, there are corn fields with passages in between them. We cannot get to or through any of them because people have stopped to conglomerate and converse at the entrances. I am inconvenienced and annoyed, but not necessarily angry. The dream then ends.
I knew as soon as I woke that the dream had an apocalyptic feel. Not all of the symbolism struck me at first, but over time it started unraveling. In one bizarre instance several months later, following a sequence of unexplainable events, a cloud formation moved intentionally into the area of the sky in which I had seen the first phoenix in the dream and made the exact same image. In real life. I also had a similar dream shortly after that one in which there was an invisible pulse that caused things to fall apart, and eventually I found myself among refugee type tents again in a barren and remote location.
I could sit and pick apart what I think each part of the dreams represent, but I could also be wrong. I am more interested in seeing how my dream imagery matches up to and against others who have had and are having similar experiences. A quick google search on the matter revealed to me that there are an overwhelming amount of people with no connection to each other having apocalyptic dreams concerning America. In my dreams, the location was most certainly America, but I didn’t initially or otherwise feel like it was prophetic regarding the country. I was more preoccupied by how casual everyone received the activity and ensuing effects.
Is there something to these dreams? I don’t have that answer. However, when something peculiar or atypical happens, I pay attention. Especially when it’s happening to other people. Has it happened to you?