dr_hartmann

I have maintained a garden for years — this garden exists only in my dreams, it has appeared perhaps forty times over the decades. Last night something was different. A large serpent was moving through it, quite slowly, and I was not frightened. I have always been frightened of snakes in waking life. The serpent paused at a fruit tree I had planted long ago and looked at me. Not threateningly. Almost as if it had been waiting. I knelt down beside it. It coiled loosely around my arm and it was cool and dry and completely calm. I woke with an extraordinary feeling of completion.

I was in my consulting room but the chair where my patients sit was empty, even though I was certain someone was there. I could feel a presence. I kept asking questions and getting answers — I could hear a voice clearly — but when I looked at the chair it was empty. At some point I realised the voice was coming from inside the chair itself, or maybe from inside me. My notes were filling themselves. The session felt very long and very important. When it ended I tried to read what I had written but the handwriting was not mine.