They beckon me home often.  The last time I heeded their beckoning,  I prepared them for my return. For a month before I went home to Hawai`i, in my dreams, l'd  Iet them know that I was coming home. That must have been enough advance notice, as they orchestrated a huge homecoming for DH and me.  

When we got out into the middle of the bay, they were nowhere in sight. I began chanting, and in short order, we were surrounded by dolphins below us and alongside us.  I stopped counting at a hundred; there were so many of them: the elders, the guys, the mothers with their babies, the kids. They all came at once.

They hung around during the days for us to swim and frolic with them, and during the nights, they filled my dreams during the entire time we were there.  


2. Do you have any recurring dreams?

Yes, I am an uneasy airline passenger because of a past recurring dream.  In it, the airliner I am flying in must make an emergency landing on a freeway in the middle of a busy city. 

This too was close to being prophetic.  A few years ago, on a flight from O`ahu to Moloka`i, the Mahalo Air two-engine plane -- the "Nai'a" which means dolphin -- began banking to the right, veering toward the northeast, toward Kaua`i.  

Dolphin quilt pattern graphic,
courtesy of Poakalani

I had the window seat. I peered out  to see that the propeller was not turning. I turned to DH; pointing to the motionless propeller, I said, "Shouldn't that thing be spinning around?"

Just then, the pilot's voice crackled over the public address system. The instrument panel indicated that there was a fire in the right engine.  He had just turned that engine off. He was aborting the flight and preparing for a forced landing. 

The plane wasn't heading for Kaua`i after all; it was gently turning in the direction of the disabled engine and returning to the Honolulu International Airport for an emergency -- one engine -- landing.

The plane was filled with locals: folks returning home to Moloka`i or visiting family there.  It was amazing how cool and collected everyone was. One lady joked about how she hoped her guava chiffon and haupia (coconut pudding) cakes from Dee Lite bakery would survive the landing.  Another passenger kidded back, "Maybe we better take a bite of those cakes while they're still intact."

As the plane made its descent, we were all acutely aware that we were facing the very real possibility of imminent immolation and death. The best thing about this experience was our reaction:  we were not afraid. Looking Death  straight in the eye  with cool equanimity, DH and I held hands, said a little prayer and smiled at each other, knowing that we had lived such wonderful lives this time around, loving each other as we do.

If it was to be our time to leave, so be it.  God's Will and all of that. No panic.  No sadness.  Some amount of wistfulness.  We'd envisioned a peaceful slippage from the bondage of this good Earth, and not as flaming splats on the tarmac. 

The young pilot kept his cool and gave us instructions on assuming the emergency brace position of wrapping arms around legs and head and chest, face down, in laps. With a discernible quiver in her voice, the single flight attendant reviewed the evacuation procedures.

Earlier, the pilot had alerted the tower and we saw the fire engines in the middle of the airfield, waiting for us. Since DH and I were right behind the open cockpit in the front row seats, we were able to watch him proficiently bring the crippled plane down safely. 

Overcoming the off-center thrust condition and with minimal pitching and rolling, he had the plane heading for the emptied runway in the middle of the airfield. Upon touching down on the runway and rolling to a stop, we burst out in cheers and applauded the pilot and co-pilot. Our little plane was immediately surrounded by the fire engines, ready to spray us and the plane down with foamy flame retardant.

Passengers helped the less agile out of their seats. No stampeding. No shoving. No pushing.  Just orderly disembarking. DH and I were the last passengers out of the plane with the pilot and co-pilot right behind us, holding up the rear.  

As we made our way down the aisle, I looked back and asked the pilot, "How scary was that for you?"

Smiling sheepishly and visibly relieved, he replied, "Honestly? My mouth feels drier than the stuffing in this seat."  

As it turned out, it was a false fire warning light on the right engine. No smoke. No fire. Then, just as we thought we were safely out of harm's way, a huge United 747, buzzed right above our heads.  I guess someone forgot to tell its pilot that the runway wasn't cleared for landing. 

We had just experienced an incident with potential: "An incident that narrowly misses being an accident and in which the circumstances indicate significant potential for substantial damage or serious injury."

Whew.

3. What's the scariest nightmare you've ever had?

Being stabbed in the back.  It happened so quickly that I couldn't "adjust" the dream.  But it wasn't so bad, as I was instantly out of the body and did not feel any pain.

4. Have you ever written your dreams down or considered it? Why or why not?

Yes.  See # 1.  I paid more attention to them before, but these days, I write them down now only when I am clearly moved to do so. 

I so thoroughly enjoy my dream life that I am inclined to think that if I keep "living" them by bringing them back, I will not fully experience this dimension.  

5. Have you ever had a lucid dream? What did you do in it?

The first dream that my father appeared in after he died was a lucid dream.  "Buy fuel cell stocks," he said telepathically. I thought this was very strange as he was not a player in the stock market in life.

I didn't have a clue what fuel cells were.  Knowing I was dreaming, I also knew I would never remember this in the morning, so I made myself wake up.  It was about two in the morning. 

I dislike being rousted from deep sleep, and I also go to lengths not to disturb DH's.  But this seemed important enough...

So I nudged DH  awake and animatedly related the dream to him. Mostly, I was excited and happy to see Dad again.  Before Dad's stock tip evaporated, I told DH about it.  He didn't know what fuel cells were either. To remember it, we chanted, together, "Fuel cells, fuel cells, fuel cells."

Of course, the next morning, we remembered.  DH called my client who is a stock broker.  He didn't know what fuel cells were either, but he promised to research it and buy them for us if he found them.  Of course, he did.  

The dream served as a tangible validation that my father would continue to mentor and look after me, just as he promised. He proved this  to me without a shadow of a doubt.

The stocks did well.  

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