The Initial Visit With God
What would it be like to have morning coffee with God? To have a conversation with Him where some of life’s deepest questions are answered? My book, Morning Coffee With God, describes such an experience.
Morning Coffee With God is the story of a series of vivid and unusual dreams I had in the winter of 2005. The conversationsprovide extensive insight on the complex subject of love. They offer insight on creating, sadness, inner darkness, anger, mourning, and hatred and show that each possess their special gifts. The conversations illuminate the multi-dimensional domains of the psyche. Contact with these deeper layers of the mind and soul allow us to discover our hidden talents, and potential.
The Initial Visit
I was not sure if I had fallen asleep or if I was in that half-dream-half-awake state. It was still early in the morning, not yet daybreak. I rolled over into a comfortable position and snuggled into the blankets. My face still felt chilled so I buried myself deeper into the warmth of the covers. Suddenly I felt the weight of something sit down on the bed. I could smell the different scent, and I could hear soft even breathing. I tried to open my eyes and to move; I could do neither. Panicking, I kept trying to move just anything; something was not right. What was happening? I was praying that this was just a dream that I would soon awaken from.
My eyes seemed to belong to someone else. My hands were sweating and clammy. Feeling half-numb, I became aware of something or someone beside me. My breath caught in my chest and each additional one became a struggle. What was happening? “Help me, please help me,” I kept silently pleading. An eternity seemed to pass by. Was I having a stroke? Was my heart failing? Was I dying? Questions crossed the blackboard of my mind. I felt something like a hand lay on my shoulder; still unable to open my eyes or move, but somehow feeling it. A gentle kind of relaxing sensation softly filled my body; my eyes began to open. The brilliant light was all that I could see; it was as if I were lying in the midst of a stalled lightning flash. How can I explain this when it was like nothing I have ever seen or experienced? Slowly, the brilliant light dimmed and I glimpsed a tenuous shadowy form sitting on my bed.
The light was becoming more natural and my eyes were adjusting. I was trying to make out the hazy figure on the bed beside me while rubbing my eyes and looking again. Suddenly, I could see the figure and my heart almost stopped beating. Fear and terror took over; this could not be real. My mouth tried to form words but it was impossible, until HE touched my face soothingly and said, “Do not fear.”
Our eyes locked. I sensed that the stranger was not here to do me harm. A few moments later, he spoke softly, “Michael, I am God.”
My mouth dropped; my head began spinning, and I thought I might faint. I even wondered if I had been drugged. I closed my eyes, hoping he would simply disappear. Perhaps I was only dreaming. A smile formed on his face and he reached out his hand to me. I winced and backed away.
“Who did you say you were?” I finally managed to stutter.
He looked at me with his intense penetrating blue eyes. Tingles poured through my entire being. His intense gaze held my eyes. I could feel dizziness overtaking me and my body going numb. He smiled then said in a soft voice, “Michael, I am God.”
I stared at him, speechless. It’s one thing to talk about something so different; so far out that it challenges our beliefs and everything we were taught in church. Conversation or reading a book can be stimulating and educational but it is not the same thing as direct experience. A pleasant memory came to mind. I had made almond chocolate fudge one day and had told a friend about it. “What does it taste like?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I had replied. “I can’t tell you what it tastes like. You have to experience it for yourself.” Experience it for yourself. The thought petrified me. What comfort was that? That’s like somebody telling you that once you take the big plunge into the pool from the high dive that it’s all down hill from there. Or someone telling you that once you jump out of the plane that your parachute will activate and you will land safely.
What consolation are words when you are standing alone on the high dive, or staring out the airplane shivering, heart pounding like a drum, fearing you are about to plunge to your death? What if your parachute does not activate? At that moment I was so barraged by trembling and terror I thought I might pass out. This was just too much. How did I know this was not some ruse or trap? “Be ever on the alert, even the devil mixes the truth with lies so as to ensnare and confuse you.” I recalled Pastor Cleveland often saying in sermons when I was a kid. Could this character be a demon in disguise? I looked at him again. He certainly did not look like one. Lord knows that one of my favorite sayings is “looks can be deceiving”. I stole another glance in his direction. His eyes were so penetratingly deep and ethereal blue. He looked young and old at the same time. I did not sense that he was evil. Hadn’t I listened to my intuition before when sizing people up? The bottom line was that I was almost always right. My first impressions were usually accurate and my first impression was that whoever he was, there was not an ounce of meanness in him. I took some comfort in that thought then managed to get out with difficulty, “Please tell me that this is all a joke, or better still, just a dream.”
He smiled and spoke gently. “Michael, this is no joke but it is a type of dream. But do not be fooled. Dreams have their own reality and there are many different types of dreams.”
My teeth were clattering and my knees shaking. It felt like electrical currents were going through every limb and fiber of my being. As though sensing my state of mind which was half-shock and half-terror, he repeated himself. “Michael, this is no joke; it is a type of dream. But don’t be fooled. Dreams have their own reality. You have been engaged in a very active dream life for many years. For now, why don’t we sit by the fireplace? It is lovely you know. Nothing would please me more than to have morning coffee with you.”
I tried to reply but the overwhelming magnitude of this presence made me fear that I was losing my grip on reality. Was this real? I kept asking myself. He says it is a dream but it seems so real. I finally quit trying to stop the shaking and trembling and just let my body move as it willed. I felt like a rag doll with no control whatsoever.
This very unusual stranger gave me a look of kindness that I had never before seen. There seemed to be a golden radiant glow around him; I could even feel the warmth. His kind smile calmed me a little. I found myself thinking, am I about to have a cup of coffee with the Divine Almighty? What is it like to share a cup of coffee with a being so magnificent? No, this couldn’t be. I cannot be having this dream.
He spoke softly. “Don’t resist, Michael. Trust your feelings about me. Time is of the utmost essence and there is much to share and teach you. Now let me say it once more, nothing would please me more than to have morning coffee with you; that would be a taste of “heaven on earth” as I know you are quite the connoisseur of fine coffees.”
He touched me gently on the cheek and gave me another of his magical smiles. For a moment it felt like every hurt that I carried inside had been instantly healed. The woes of the world did not seem real; as a matter of fact the outside world seemed like a dream. I wanted to look into his eyes and lose myself and forget every trouble I had ever had. I had never felt so safe as I felt being with him.
After I finally adjusted to His presence, I pointed a trembling finger towards my kitchen and asked, “do you really wish for a cup of coffee?” He replied with a nod of his head. As I walked down the hallway, I thought to myself how happy I was that I had thick soft carpet for him to walk on. The freshly painted sky blue walls seemed to show off their beauty; the morning sunlight was filtering through the kitchen. I know that it was my imagination and the magic of the moment, but the refrigerator and stove seemed to gleam; it was almost as if we were standing among the clouds. Quickly, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and motioned for HIM to sit.
Now, it just hit me-I was going to make a cup of coffee for God. How do I do this? How can I just make a cup of coffee for someone so immense, so visibly supreme I wondered as my breath came in short huffs, and my hands twitched nervously?”
Taking a couple of deep breaths, I slowly calmed myself down. I went to the freezer and grabbed the Kona Coffee Beans. My friend Leiah said she liked Hawaiian kona beans better than the Jamaican blue mountain. If you know good coffee, then you automatically connect Kona with good coffee, so kona it would be.
The coffee grinder was noisy and I wished I could just hurry it up. I did not want the noise but the results would be well worth it. Filling the pot with filtered bottled water was the first thing that I did. Next, I measured ground Kona Coffee and put it in the filter, pulled the lid down and pressed the start button.
The kitchen seemed to become a jet. I felt as if I were high in the clouds. The world seemed to be distantly far from me; it was just me and this awesome supreme guest. I settled into the chair across from HIM and watched as HE looked around the room with contentment.
Soon the rich robust aroma of coffee filled the room. HE sniffed and sighed, a sign that he was enjoying this scent; I realized that neither of us had spoken. Perhaps it was just not time. I’m seldom at a loss for words, but now I was shivering inside with excitement, and anxiousness. Was I scared? No, that is not the word-terrified is a better word for what was going on inside me. I was sure that HE could hear my heart beating. It sounded like an amazon drum....hurry coffee, hurry coffee was all I could think.
Finally the last gurgle of the dripping coffee sounded and I leaped towards the cups and began pouring. Cream and sugar were already on the table. I sat down again holding both hands around the steaming cup of coffee as if they were cold and needed warming.
I waited what seemed to be an eternity. HE took several sips and seemed to bask in the rich taste of the hot steamy liquid. HE then put the cup down, clasped both hands together on the table and looked deeply into my eyes, and began speaking.
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.
“Do you really want to know?” I asked with hesitation and a little embarrassment.
“Of course I do.”
“To be perfectly honest I’m depressed.”
“So do you want undepressed?”
Undepressed, I thought. I don’t think I’ve heard that word before.
HE simply looked at me and repeated himself. “Do you want undepressed or to put it in your vernacular to not be depressed?”
So many rambling thoughts poured into my head. There was so much I wanted to ask him, but I decided to avoid his question and ask him one instead. Why not start with the most commonly asked question on the planet?
“How are you?”
He grinned then spoke softly. “I am wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”
“That is great but can you tell me why am I so depressed?”
“Yes I can. You are depressed because you avoid me. You put a-void between you and me. Do you want out of the pit or do you want to keep feeling pitiful?”
I did not comment. I was quiet a few moments then ventured to ask “why are you here?”
“Because you have been reaching out and calling to me in dreams. Divine contact from dreams may be uncommon but it is not unheard of.”
“I called out to you?” I asked, surprised.
He grinned. Yes, you did just like you called out to the angel who paid you a visit many years ago and inspired you to write The Messenger of Love.
“You mean that dream was real and she really was an angel?”
“Yes, just as this dream is real. Actually, Michael, I have been with you before. Many times. And not just in this dream.”
“Can’t you stop reminding me that I am dreaming?” I wanted to say. Let me enjoy what seems so very real. Even the scent of the coffee. It all seems real.”
I looked at him. He was smiling. “Let me help you recall some times you have talked to me. How about when you were eleven years old, waiting for Geneva Jackson to pick you up for church? You talked to me a lot back then. You asked me to take you away from your dysfunctional home and violent father, and you told me you wanted to go to college. You told me how much you loved me and you even went so far as to say you wanted to meet me someday.”
My eyes lit up. “I do remember that. I used to pray a lot and I was a big dreamer way back then when I was only eleven years old. When things were so bad at home, I’d retreat to the back yard and close my eyes and say, “It’s all just a dream. A nightmare in the daytime.” Then I’d open my eyes and hope that it would all be gone. Sometimes I even convinced myself that it was. I guess I had a very vivid imagination.”
“Your imagination has served you well and continues to do so.”
“Thank you. So are you real?”
“Look at me and observe and then decide for yourself.”
There I was sitting at the table with the most Supreme Being, the ultimate guest. Questions swirled in my mind as I took in this most incredible sight. God sipped his coffee, his ringless fingers wrapped warmly around HIS cup. He was dressed in white trousers and a white linen shirt with small blue buttons with long sleeves covering HIS arms. I could feel concern dwelling deep within HIS steady gaze. I had never seen such beautiful eyes. They were a mysterious sort of sky blue with a silver tint. They looked like they had seen worlds upon worlds time and time again, and things I could probably never fathom. I wondered what journeys I would take and what I would see if I lost myself in HIS eyes. But today HE was here looking at me, and my heart was missing at least every other beat.
I stammered, “Do you have a lesson that you want to share with me, teach me, or talk to me about? May I ask questions? Will I ever see you again? Will I see where you live? Is there an eternity?” My mouth was moving non-stop, as if He may just disappear and I would not have a chance to ask Him.
God smiled at me. His eyes reverted to the window, and as He looked out He began, “destruction, tidal waves, bombings, wars, hurricanes, crashes. Do you really think these are my doings-that I purposely create these destructive devastations? Is this what you hear, and read and believe?”
The question startled me so much that I sat there unable to respond, unable to speak, actually unable to think clearly. How do I respond to a question of such magnitude? The shock on my face was reply enough, I soon learned.
He continued, “The earth was created-cold, warmth, land, water, vegetation, minerals. The earth evolves around the beauty of the giant sequoia trees, the majestic oceans, the vast lands. The earth has forces of nature that man cannot control. Now war, famine, hunger-these are not forces of nature and man can control them. Why do so many of your rich people who have millions of dollars not share their wealth with the poor and the hungry? You have the capabilities to make lives equal, but instead, you generate your lives toward greed and personal wealth. Why are people so reluctant to share? These are matters that we must talk about, understand, and one day, you will reveal our conversations to those who will offer an ear.
“The being sitting here beside you is more than a figment of your imagination. We could go on for hours discussing, “more than”, but we will not go there today. For now, let me just say that I can take on any form I wish on any plane or dimension, of which the earth plane is only one among many. And likewise the realm of dreams has many dimensions. ”
HE picked up His coffee cup and held it firmly in His hands, then took a big sip then let out a sigh. “Your kona brew is the best.” He looked towards the kitchen then moved His chair and bent slightly in my direction. My head began to feel giddy. “Earlier we were talking about other times I talked to you. Do you want to hear of any more?”
“Oh, yes please.”
“In May of 1984 in the wee hour of the morn you scribbled a page of disjointed thoughts which you later rewrote and named it Message from my Soul. The wee morning hours are a good time to communicate with me because the mind does not get in the way nearly as much. That was one of our early communications.”
“I recall that day very well. I was love-struck and although Cupid had pierced my heart pretty deeply, the love was not reciprocated. Unrequited love is dreadful. What lonely years those were! I guess I’ve always been part-loner and probably always will be. At an early age the so-called “normal life” was not enough for me. The characters and adventures of my inner world have always been as important to me as the ones in the so-called real world. Perhaps something deep in my soul just resonates to such communications. I felt at that moment what Joan of Arc must have felt when her voices spoke to her. How they must have given her such hope and comfort. How it felt so natural and normal that they should visit and speak with her. How she must have loved them. Am I making sense, God?”
“I would like for you to call me Mr. Divine. It sure beats you saying HE or God and besides God is not, nor has it ever been my true or total name. Actually somebody just made up that name. So why not make up another one a little less formal and perhaps more pleasant sounding? The name God elicits strong feelings and reactions from people-both pleasant and unpleasant. Due to the lack of understanding of who I am, and the abuses and atrocities that have been committed in my name, some disbelieve that I even exist. As a matter of fact I don’t even believe in God if you want my honest opinion.”
“So who did I speak and pray to all those lonely childhood years?”
“I am That I am. That is closer to my real name, but for now I would like for you to call me Mr. Divine.”
“Why does everybody call you God and say you are the almighty Supreme Being and creator of the universe?”
“For a lot of reasons we do not have time to go into now. Let’s just say that the titles I have been assigned reflect such a minute part and fraction of who I am. I am so much more and so are you. For the purpose of these visits, to you I will be Mr. Divine.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“I’m Okay, You’re okay,” he said, smiling. “That was a good book that helped you a lot.”
“It sure did. My Psychology books have served me well over the years.”
“Psychology is fascinating and before we’re through you might even be able to out shrink the shrinks,” Mr. Divine said, smiling. “If Psychology helps bring you back to yourself, then I endorse it. It is my hope and desire that you discover that sacred place in your heart where love dwells. There are endless means to get there. Once you come to realize that I love you, you are well on your way to getting there.”
“Are you really talking to me now?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“No, I’m talking to the man standing behind you. Seriously, I’ve been talking to you for some time but you forget when you wake up. I will let you in on a little secret. I have been contacting you for many years at the deeper levels of sleep. That is why for years you sometimes wake up with deep questions on your mind. It is those dream visits that put you in your “deep moods”. Since most people cannot recall what occurs at the deep levels of sleep, you had no conscious recollection of them having taken place.
“Let’s say that your recollections have been subconscious recollections, and as you know from your studies in Psychology, the contents and the workings of your subconscious mind do influence you; and you more so than the average person because of your heightened sensitivity. Now it is time to get to the root of those yearnings so you don’t have to be bombarded with feelings of loneliness as you seek and search for something that you can’t define or put your hands on. It is time for knowledge to liberate you and for you to find peace. Haven’t you been seeking peace of mind and heart for years?
“Yes, all of my life.”
“Like your book Halfway to Heaven says, “the call compels the response.” If you believe in peace and seek it, then it must exist, for how can you seek something that is non-existent? If it were non-existent, or readily outside your field of perception, then you could not seek it for it would not be real to you. Just as your shaman therapist used to remind you of the power of your despair and dark depressions and the need to confront and learn from them; likewise do your hidden yearnings possess much power and many gifts for you. Yearning is so intense and powerful because it is your soul’s attempt to get your attention. When you are out of sync this means that you are not following your bliss. When you are not following your bliss you are not in the flow. You are not being true to your self; this stirs the yearnings that fill you with sadness and longing. Think of the yearnings as a little alarm going off or a wake-up call to alert you that all is not so well on the home front. People go for years being depressed, sad and lonely, thinking they are doomed to despair. Many come to expect it just as one gets used to the cold weather and ice in the wintertime.
“Nothing could be further from the truth. How sad when people give up hope that life can be joyous and fulfilling. Some even go so far as to deny their unhappiness. They will say things like “Life is rough, you just accept what is. You do the best you can and accept what you can’t change. Unfortunately people come to accept the things they believe they cannot change, when in reality most of them they can change. To live a life of desperation is to be untrue to the self.
“Your true soul calling is to learn to fully love ‘self and others’ and to spread that love profusely. Another of your soul callings is to fully awaken your creativity and fully embrace your muse. She, who is the spirit of your inspiration, will help you surrender to your soul, for as your internal twin flame and divine counterpart, she cannot be fulfilled until you are. She needs you as much as you need her. So, of course, you have been depressed and lonely most of your life; your yearnings have been your constant reminders that something is awry and in need of fixing. The good news is that once you come to embrace your internal muse (your divine feminine counterpart) you will meet someone on the physical external realm who will be a mirror for your internal muse. It is the love of the divine internal counterpart that everyone seeks and who they must discover within, then bond and merge with before they meet someone externally who can mirror their true being. We will get into this subject more when we explore your ‘writing’ On Love.
“I am happy to say that you are embracing your muse more. You are willing to do some more inner healing work and to get to the root of your “yearnings”. You are ready to become more true to yourself. Your soul has always known that contact with divinity is not only possible but available to everyone. No one can be truly happy until this contact is made.
“You are going to remember our talks and they will become the foundation for a book. Your dream life is going to become quite active. In truth you are in a dream like frame of mind when you write your poems, songs, fantasy stories and novels. When you do a reading for a client you are taking a soul journey with them which is similar to dreaming. On your journeys you have access to much more information and knowledge than is accessible to your conscious mind. You have access to the subconscious and super-conscious mind. With practice there is no knowledge you cannot access for it is stored in the very DNA of your genetic makeup and in your cells and molecules. And since you and everyone on the planet are soul connected, you can access their subconscious and super-conscious mind as well as well as the universal mind. You can essentially become omniscient just like me. You have been doing quite well. Surely you realize that your spiritual work is much more than predictions and fortune telling?”
“I’ve been told that it goes much deeper than that.”
“It does and since you have been restless for some time, I thought I’d offer a little help. I decided it was time to make an official appearance that you wouldn’t forget and to inspire you to get back to your writing. That is another reason you are depressed. You are not writing! Writing is very healing for you. It puts you in touch with your soul. Your soul can speak more clearly through the written word since it is a skill that you have developed in many previous lives. Writing has always been easy and natural for you. You have made much progress and improvement over the years and are continually doing so.
“It is time for you to get back to your writing. You have so many books inside you yearning to see the light of day. Speaking of your writing, I know about your past lives as a writer and I drew upon that knowledge when I helped rouse you in those wee hours of the morn back in May of 1984 in your throes and woes times. I helped your super-conscious or your higher self make a connection with you. I know it was very unsettling and a bit of a shock to you, but it had to happen. You were getting too lost, and the darkness was overshadowing you. Your soul called out for help in dream time.
“You have called out for help other times and one such time led to your writing The Messenger of Love-given to you from an angel who taught you about unconditional love. When you asked her why she appeared, she reminded you that you called out to her in dream time.”
“I recall that dream and ‘writing’ very well. It was so real. It seemed like much more than a dream and I confess that at first I did not like it. I was too caught up with my ego self-gratifying way of life, but I suppose my soul had other ideas and that is why the angelic messenger came in the dream. Now Messenger of Love is one of my favorites. Perhaps I have grown and learned some things about unconditional love.”
“You certainly have and still are. That was a very powerful healing dream which helped put you on the path of self-transformation. Your highly intuitive and acute sensitivity make it easy for you to enter many alternate states of consciousness. Those who say that dreams are imaginary fancies are mistaken. There is so much more to dreams than people are aware of. Fortunately, the shamans and medicine healers of your indigenous peoples have much more appreciation, and respect for the many transformational powers of dreams. This book will be a dream journey but that makes it no less real or not applicable to daily life. In some ways it will actually be ‘more real’ than what you experience in your everyday life. You have even begun to invoke your subconscious mind to give you dreams to offer insight, clarity and understanding on various issues and karmic circumstances. That is to be commended and it is my hope that many others will begin doing likewise. For example, that dream state you entered in May of 1984 was a life saver for you.”
“I was suicidal at the time. The pain of unrequited love was unbearable. I truly felt that I could not go on. I remember hoping to not wake up in the morning. That was the worst night of my life. It felt like a hammer was pummeling my heart. And like you said, early the next morning something came over me. I woke up at five am and it was like I was in a trance. I took out my notebook and wrote a page, having no idea what I was scribbling so quickly. Then I fell back to sleep. When I awoke I knew something very powerful had happened. Somehow my agony and deep depression had taken me to a different place or maybe I was going crazy.”
“You have to be a little crazy to be on the earth and in your case, to be an artist. Being a little crazy is a good thing. Yes, you were in bad shape then. Now you can move past all of that. You felt so alone and you still do sometimes, but you are learning and evolving. How my eyes twinkle when I see people clean up their ‘bargage’, their baggage/garbage, as you coined a new word. You are quite good with words.”
“Might you have a little hand in it since I’m sure that you have a sense of humor?”
“I have a sense of a lot of things, and humor is definitely one of them. I like to make you laugh. Heaven only knows you have cried enough.”
“A few rivers I suppose and not all have been tears of sorrow.”
“You are coming along nicely. I would like for you to include some of your ‘writings’ in this book, now that you have a nice quiet place where you can write, undisturbed. I had my hand in that as well. You know the saying “Watch what you ask for, you will get it.” You uttered a very special, sacred prayer to me back in July of last year. I like to call it your POMP prayer, your Peace of Mind Plea. Plea se, is one of the most powerful and beautiful words in the human language. People are usually more than glad to pass you the bread, butter, or whatever when you say please, or utter a respectful plea. This is why you are wise to teach your children the benefits of frequently using the word please.”
“That makes sense. You really are good with words.”
“Thank you and how very pleas ed I am to share multiple word meanings with you. There is far more significance to words and their sounds than you realize. Your POMP, peace of mind plea, came from your heart and soul. Those pleas are the ones that make it first to Heaven. You were very sincere about your plea. You were at the end of your rope. That is not always a bad place to be. Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you can climb back up the rope and start a new life.”
“I can sure relate to that. Last year was a bad year. I was in a difficult relationship. I visited my family constantly to get away from the fighting and pain.”
“I know and one morning you did something you had not done in some time and that is what got my attention. You prayed your POMP prayer. To quote you exactly, you said, “Dear God,” I beg you for peace of mind. My home is not my home anymore. There is nothing but turmoil and conflict here. I feel trapped in this relationship. Please help me.”
“That was your plea. You did not define or demand in what manner help would come. You did something else essential for prayers to be answered. You surrendered! That is a biggie! People pray everyday for any number of things. The requests make Santa’s list look like a toddler’s scribbling. People pray every day but many lack humility and the desire or ability to surrender. To have the desire to surrender to their own soul, inner strength, higher power (as AA would call it), whatever terms you want to use, is all it takes for spiritual forces to come to your rescue. This is a lesson worth internalizing and why I am sharing this story of your POMP prayer.
“Like I said, I have infinite ways and means to come to your rescue when you offer your pleas e and prayers out of surrender and sincerity. I can take any circumstance or situation and help turn it to your benefit as long as your prayer truly comes from the heart. When you surrender you are ready to challenge your fears and to make new choices and changes. You create everything. Let me repeat you create everything and I do mean everything in your life experience based on the Universal Law of Attraction which is such a popular topic these days. Well, I think I have said enough for now and given you some information to think and write about. Now I will take my leave.”
“Please don’t go,” I pleaded. “This is so fascinating. I’m afraid if you leave I’ll never see you again. Can you stay and talk to me forever?”
“I most certainly could, but you are not up for that.”
“I’m sure glad you came. I do feel different now-somehow better and less depressed.”
“Good. This conversation will give you a lot to write about.”
“I hope I can remember the things you’ve said.”
“You will. We’ll talk again soon. By the way, thanks for a wonderful cup of coffee,” Mr. Divine said then disappeared into thin air.
I immediately awakened. I rubbed my eyes and let out a sigh. “I’ve been drugged,” I wanted to say but I knew such was not true. I had a strong urge to write so I turned on the light, took out my notebook and scribbled notes as fast as I could. I would fill in the details later.
Over the next few weeks my emotions alternated between confusion, wonderment, doubt and moments of intense joy and even ecstasy. Part of me felt that something wonderful had happened to me. I had been waiting all my life for something like this to happen. I even had dreams over the years where a divine being visited me, but in those dreams I only saw scattered images and misty pictures. The setting and scenery were always ethereal and surrealistic. Sometimes I would see orbs of golden light with stars encircling them and I would be filled with wonder and powerful feelings of love. I would try to concentrate and focus so the images would become clearer but it never worked. I would only awaken with feelings of longing and sadness-always wanting to see and experience more.
As wonderful as it was, my joy was short lived. My critical ‘left brain monster’ as I humorously refer to my logical mind, would not accept that a divine being, (Mr. Divine as he calls himself) could visit me in dreams let alone in person. One of the things I have always been grateful for is that I have a strong critical mind. I don’t accept ideas until I have mentally put them through the scrutiny of logical reasoning then assimilated them into my thinking. This involves constant intense analyzing, sorting out and weighing ideas based on previous experiences, debating, and so forth. This I call my left brain work. I always enjoyed debating in high school and college and loved to challenge people’s ideas and beliefs. How arrogant it is when people claim to know so much! Even the famous Greek philosopher Socrates said something to the effect that the key to knowledge is in admitting that we know very little. He was known for challenging cocky orators, and he derived much satisfaction from finding loopholes and contradictions in their arguments.
With all that said, how could I possibly dare to claim to know that ‘divinity’ or God could make personal direct contact with me? “Come on now, you have a good brain, now use it!” I could hear my left brain haranguing me. “You made good grades in college in philosophy, theology, and psychology classes because you utilized your logical mind and intelligence, not entertaining mumbo jumbo fantasies. I could just hear the scientists and left brained intellectuals ridiculing me, since I had no empirical proof to claim to have experienced a visit from “the head honcho.” At that moment I wanted empirical proof more than anything in the world. I even imagined asking Mr. Divine to prove to me that the dream was more than fantasy, even though I had to admit, I have always felt that there is more to ‘fantasy’ and ‘the imagination’ than people know or admit.
I feared my left brain cognitive mind might drive me nuts asking so many questions and filling me with doubts and confusion. And yet I also was in constant close contact with my right brain intuitive side which had accepted many experiences over the years from precognitive dreams, clairvoyance to visions of the future. My imagination was very active and awakened as well. I could never logically prove the existence of my imaginary playmates or the characters from my stories; yet I had derived so much consolation and enjoyment from their company.
Needless to say I was in quite a quandary. After two weeks passed my doubting and fearful side took over and I started freaking out. Filled with confusion and fright, I saw images of me I flipping out and going totally hysterical. Maybe I did need to sign myself into a mental institution and put myself in the hands of a shrink. I confess that such thoughts crossed my mind many times, but I was also well aware that superior intelligence and intellectual brilliance promise no guarantee of sanity. Some of the most brilliant artists and minds of the times succumbed to madness or insanity. I thought of one of my favorite philosophers-Friedrich Nietzsche who fell victim to mental illness. My favorite ballet dancer is the famous Russian Ballet Dancer, Vaslav Nijinsky. After a short highly successful career as dancer and choreographer, Nijinsky was diagnosed with schizophrenia then spent many years in and out of psychiatric hospitals and asylums.
Is that where I will wind up if I entertain any more crazy notions? I wondered. Did I need to see a shrink before my delusions and approaching madness worsened? A psychiatrist might have some drugs that could keep such dreams from returning. I wanted nothing to do with this ‘Mr. Divine’ character who claimed to be God. I concluded that he was even crazier than me. How dare he take advantage of my extreme sensitivity and come to me in dreams, knowing that I have excellent dream recall. It just wasn’t possible for such contact to take place. I even had more wine than I should have for the next few nights, hoping to numb myself from my dreams. It must have worked because he did not show up. As a matter of fact I stopped recalling my dreams for awhile. At least I did not have to deal with this Mr. Divine character! So what if my dreams were put on hold for awhile; that was probably for a good reason. I could live without remembering my dreams for awhile until I got cured of this ailment of the soul.
Then a strange thing happened. A few days later I was browsing in a video shop and came upon a recording of a live concert by Bette Midler called Divine Madness. Bette Midler was often called the divine Miss M. during that raucous period of her live show performances. That made me think of my dream and Mr. Divine which I was wondering might be nothing more than a fantasy dream character I had concocted to ease my loneliness and boredom. “Divine madness.” I said out loud. I don’t think there’s anything divine going on here but there certainly is some madness. I hurried out of the video store and tried to forget about the experience. It did not happen! It seemed the word “divine” popped up everywhere. I attended a Christmas concert with a friend and of course the first soloist sang my favorite carol “O Holy Night.” Every time she would sing the phrase “O Night Divine, I’d feel a twitching in my stomach. When she sang the final chorus and went for the high note singing “O night, divine”, I thought she was going to hold that ‘divine’ note forever. To make matters worse, after we applauded the performers with a standing ovation, my friend had to say, “Michael, that Christmas concert was simply divine.” I wanted to throw up.
I tried with all my might and willpower to forget the experience but I just could not. To my consternation I found myself missing my dreams and I also missed Mr. Divine. I could not explain it nor define this longing. I reviewed my notes. The missing continued. How could I miss someone who might be nothing more than a figment of my imagination? I did not have a logical answer for that question anymore than I have logical explanations for any of the characters I meet in my imagination which leads to a story. I was proud that some had even found their way into fantasy and science fiction magazines.
“Yes, but getting a fantasy story published is not the same thing as claiming to talk to ‘the head honcho’ my mind countered. My mind had its hey day. I did not sign myself into a mental institution and the more I thought about my divine visitor, the more I missed him. He had said so many wonderful things to me. He was kind and filled me with hope and a sense that there is so much more to life than we experience. I began to challenge my ruthless mind. After all, Mr. Divine had said nothing that was deleterious in any way. On the contrary, everything he said was uplifting, empowering, informative and loving. How could that be bad? Still, my mind wanted to dismiss the experience as illusion. I may struggle with accepting unusual ideas and having my horizons and belief systems stretched, but one thing about me is that I am not one to give up so easily to the whims of my mind or my emotions. One may dominate for awhile, but the other always comes around. I reminded my logical side that Mr. Divine had said nor done nothing to upset, scare or put me in any kind of danger. On the contrary, he had shown kindness, and expressed words that were interesting, thought provoking, comforting and wise. I have always believed in stretching our horizons. The next few weeks were going to see my horizons and beliefs stretched tremendously, and as my divine guest predicted and promised, I did not go over the edge or have a mental collapse.
I decided to have an open mind and heart. I would be receptive to the unknown and see what I could learn from it. My imagination had never abandoned or let me down before. I would give it a chance to sail with me on even more exotic journeys on the seas of the psyche. I promised myself that when doubts start to assail me I would quote one of my favorite people, Albert Einstein, who said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.”
So yes, in that wonderful dream world I shared my first cup of coffee that very morning with the king of kings, the Divine Almighty. I stepped into a world of wonderment that became so entrenched in my soul that the memories of those shared mornings turned my life completely around. They gave me answers that I thought not possible and took away my fear of growing old. My journey in life is now just that-a journey, not a chore or drudgery. I truly understand light and love and peace. It is time to lose the selfishness of keeping this to myself. It is time to relive those endearing talks with him and share them with you!