Death: The Premonition in Dream Language

Released almost 2 years ago

	My writing mentor from my late teens into early twenties was a leading writer of Scientology materials, so his family has asked me never to use his name publicly because his mentoring me was against Scientology rules, so I never get to - even in thanks. But he was like a father to me. More conversations than I've had with my real dad. (He's just a quiet guy. Not a bad father.) The Premonition of Death Dream: One night I dreamt he was sitting in a desert, in a yoga position that old yogi's use in death. (They sit in this position, legs crossed, spine straight, arms down, when they are attempting to meditate into the afterlife.) It was hot in the lifeless desert and as he tried to draw breath, the air itself was turned to smoke by a burning red coal in his chest. He was unable to get air through his lungs. Decoding: In the symbolism of dreams I think this one was pretty clear. The lifeless desert, the position in which yogi's (learned spiritual men like him) die, the inability to breath because of the burning in his chest. So I woke up and I emailed him. It came back - for the first time EVER - as undeliverable, no such address. I panicked. His son happens to be a well known musician. So I got ahold of his manager in a total freakout mode and got ahold of his son who assured me his father was still alive and they just switched servers, and he gave me the new email. So I emailed my beloved mentor and told him what I saw in my dream and how obvious the message was and that it was not his time to go, because here was this warning from this strange and fascinating entity known as "Death." And I begged him to go to the doctor. "Just get a check-up," I pleaded, "humor me." But he insisted that according to his beliefs, dreams mean nothing. They are a jumble of the minds daily intake being sorted for long term storage. He would not go to the doctor. He felt fine. Two months later his phone number showed up on my caller id. But I knew it was not him calling. I answered the phone and his widow said the words that I can never change, "You were right." The rest of the phone call was brief, details, "Coroner said it could have been prevented..." And for the rest of my life his family - who I came to care a great deal for over those years - can only see one thing when they see my name: "You were right. It could have been prevented." And they hate me for not saving him. And I hate myself. But really... it was JUST a dream. Right?