It has happened to me twice. The first time it happened, I was about 25 years old and another time it happened when I was around 40 years old. I guess I am overdue for another visit.
I was lying in a bed, in my grandmother’s house, trying to take a late afternoon nap. I was in a double bed, turned on my left side, with my face toward the wall. I took a deep sigh to relax and then suddenly, slowly, consistently, the mattress behind my back sunk as if someone had just gotten into the bed with me. I froze. I knew the bedroom door hadn’t opened. I knew no one had walked in. I also knew that no human could control themselves in such a manner as to get in bed. The pressure came directly from above, not like someone rolling into the bed. I couldn’t turn over to look, I was too frightened. I just took my right arm and slowly swung it over to the mattress behind me to feel if someone was in bed with me. If I had touched someone, I would have both pissed and shit the bed instantly. I probably would have thrown up too. I felt nothing, no one. I never felt the presence leave the bed, but I certainly did.
My grandmother said, “That was a short nap.” “Yeah, I am not tired anymore.” “Well, sometimes a catnap is all you need.”
The second time was exactly like the first time, only I was in my own bed in my own house twenty years or so after the initial visit. However, after conducting the arm swing test, I stayed in bed as I figured someone really wanted to take a nap with me. I was not comfortable with the situation by any means, but I was older and more open to the unseen possibilities of life and beyond. I did say out loud, “Please don’t touch me.”
There were other strange occurrences in my life that make for some good stories around the campfire. I will save them for a later time. However, I have experienced one constant oddity in my life – a female voice, and never ever the same female voice, gently calling out my first name, often just as I laid down to sleep. This calling continued for many, many years. I would say it happened maybe six times a year for close to 40 years. I looked it up once and there was actually a term for it. I now only hear it rarely and I have come to miss her gentleness. It seemed as if she knew me very well.
Strange stuff, I know, but one day I was listening to Jason Mraz sing a Muppet song titled the Rainbow Connection. I had heard the song many times before, but I wasn’t aware of the lyrics. I was shocked to hear Jason sing –
Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices
I’ve heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound
That calls the young sailors
The voice might be one and the same
I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it
It’s something that I’m supposed to be
Someday we’ll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me
(written by Paul Williams ((one of my all-time favorites)) and Kenneth Ascher)
Apparently, I was not the only person with this experience. It was somewhat comforting to know that Kermit, the frog, and I shared this calling. I suspect Carl Jung and I also have a few things in common – but, again, a story for another day.
This year I am working on recording a 2nd album and, just as with this blog site, it has much to do with the mysterious women’s voices. In fact, it has everything to do with those callings. I guess, the lovers, the dreamers, and me might say it perfectly. I am working on a new song for this next cd. This particular song is different though because it consists of several different, short songs all rolled up into a 5 minute mini-opus. One set of lyrics goes like this:
I feel you breathing, on the back of my neck I turn to see you, you’re not there
You call my name, in the middle of the night I rise from bed, I’m all alone
Spirit Lover, I’ve always known – you’ve been walking next me Spirit Lover, I’ve always known – you’ve been watching over me
I know it is fashionable nowadays to say, “I am not religious. I am spiritual.” Honestly, I am deeply confused about these matters. I don’t have the answers and I do not trust anyone who claims to have them either. I think possibly that Faith begat Hope and Hope begat Charity. I think of them as three holy sisters. And, in the beginning, before the three sisters, there was Love. For me, Jesus, represents Love the very best in the human form, but I also embrace how others experience Love and learn much from their experiences…and in the end, just like explaining that presence in my bed – I just don’t know…anything. “Hello Love, is Faith home? I need some Hope which will create a heart of Charity.”
We just concluded the Easter weekend. I was surrounded by family love. I watched little ones run around the yard looking for treats. I listened to and enjoyed the laughter about all sorts of appropriate and inappropriate things. I drank a celebratory beer as the new chicken palace took shape with the help of everyone present, that is until the new puppy knocked the beer bottle over and sipped its contents very quickly. I thought she might stumble over to me, put her paw on my shoulder and say with slurred speech, “I love you, man.” The Spirit Lover is still very much present in my life, in our lives. I cannot deny this.
I share all of this with you for reasons I don’t understand, but I do wish all of you, in the 25 countries or so who read this blog, Faith, Hope, and Charity and the Love that begat them. Maybe all this will make sense to you, somehow, someway. Or, maybe I just needed to acknowledge it? Maybe that is why she kept calling my name. “Acknowledge me. Respond and I will stop calling.”
Here is Kermit in fine voice, The Rainbow Connection.