A Modern Christian Mystics Diary

Prologue

Although my life and faith have been greatly enriched by reading the works of certain Saints, I never felt inclined, much less compelled to make them or any other Saint my special patron. It wasn’t until recently that a Saint I had never even heard of suddenly and mysteriously entered my life through a dream. When I woke from this fully lucid dream I titled 11 Norway, I felt utterly bereft believing I would never see this man again, or understand why he had come to me in a dream. Following the clues he provided me with in response to my questions, I discovered who this stunningly alive “dream figure” was. I was amazed and deeply thrilled by the encounter, and longed to see him again.

Lucid Dream of November 2, 201711 Norway

I slip into a Wake Induced Lucid Dream where I laughingly tell my sister that you don't need to worry about making a mess in a dream. But reconsidering, I add, “Then again if you come back in another lucid dream this mess will still be here, so really, it's not good to be messy even in a dream”. . . 

Another W.I.L.D. into an immeasurably vast white space, and looking out a window I focus on, I perceive the edge of a castle wall made of stone blocks with a greenish tinge in places. I love how very real and present the scene outside the window is as I move toward it, but I can't quite make it out there. . .
Saying goodbye to some dream characters I've been having fun with, in the process of doing so I become fully lucid and immediately take off into the sky—a powerful wind is pulling me up, and up. There are trees everywhere in a pure expansive landscape. The lighting is a soft silvery-gold as though it's dusk, or late in an overcast day in a place where everything is covered with a soft deep layer of snow. I feel fantastic and free ascending over this dreamscape.
Then I spot, flying swiftly toward me, a bright blue-and-white bird similar to a blue jay. As it soars past and around me I reach out for it, delighted by the possibility of forming some kind of dream bond. But abruptly it shoots straight down to earth, and I'm pulled down after it. Plummeting toward the ground, I separate my arms slightly from my body, and willing myself to slow down land nicely.
Taking off again, I become conscious of my nipples which fact begins arousing me. Not desiring the distraction, I deliberately pull off what I'm wearing—an old-fashioned bodice that has begun slipping down over my breasts—and toss it away. I find it interesting I was able to simply remove the sensation in this fashion. 
A few seconds later, I perceive below me a white street at the edge of some quaint old-fashioned town. Three young men are crossing this street, walking and talking together, and I call down to them curiously, “Who are you?” They are quite animated, and I sense bonded by much more than casual friendship. They're all dressed the same, and their dark hair is neither short or long. Their skin is very fair and radiates a healthy vitality. I especially notice and focus on one of the three, who I sense is their leader. His face is alive with a highly attractive focused energy, and I distinctly sense he and his companions are real individuals from Earth's past interacting with me now in my lucid dream. 
Worrying they may not have heard me, I descend to street level, and putting a friendly edge of command in my voice ask the group's leader, “Who are you?” 
Stopping as one, they regard me with the same focused attention I'm bestowing on them. All of them are wearing straight white tunics over long-sleeved black shirts and tights. But it's the young man I sense is their leader who meets my eyes and says, very distinctly, “11 Norway.” 
I ask, “So this is Norway in the eleventh century?"
Speaking for all of them he replies, “Yes.” And as they continue regarding me in what strikes me as a fully conscious way, I get the impression they somehow mysteriously know I'm dreaming - that I'm visiting them in a dream - and aren't surprised.

As we all enter another building, which is narrow and dimly lit, I repeat to myself, “11 Norway... 11 Norway...” before asking the spokesman, “What's your name?” 
“Haraldsson,” I hear him reply. “Thorsday Haraldsson.”

I'm sure I'll remember this because the Viking Thor's Day is where our day of the week Thursday comes from. I keep repeating what he's told me, “11 Norway, Thor's day Haraldsson.” I'm standing very close to him, and his earnest noble face only inches away from mine is partially in shadow. And as I keep repeating this information to myself out loud, it seems to me he begins looking concerned I might not remember what he's told me. Feeling it's time to go so I won't forget, I begin backing away toward the door as I silently repeat in my mind what I've heard, determined to remember it... 
I slip into a False Awakening in which I waste a lot of time trying to find paper to write my information down on, but it's the usual problem of every pad and notebook, etc. already being covered with writing. I finally wake up for real, and thanks to how often I repeated the information in the dream, I still remember it.
Dream Notes:
A web search of what I was told in the dream yielded information that truly amazed me:

King Olaf, Saint Olaf, 11th Century Norway

"Olaf II's old Norse name is Ólafr Haraldsson. He was a pagan Viking raider who converted to Christianity and became King of Norway. He dramatically destroyed a statue of Thor one day as he began fighting to Christianize Norway. 

"The huge wooden idol of Thor that he encountered was at a place called Gulbrandsdad in central Norway. The custom was to offer food and gold ornaments to this idol. Olaf announced to the local Thor worshipers that a golden sunrise then in progress was the herald of his God. With all eyes trained on the sunrise, Olaf had one of his men strike the idol a terrific blow with a club. The rotten wood splintered, the idol collapsed. According to Snorri Sturluson, one of Olaf’s principal chroniclers, “Out of it ran mice as big almost as rats, and reptiles, and adders.” Now, if you worship an idol, it is destroyed, and the man who destroyed it is not struck down on the spot by the gods, you are likely to be shaken. Olaf seized the moment to proclaim: “Either accept Christianity or fight this very day, and the victory be to them to whom the God we worship gives it.” The former devotees of Thor promptly agreed to baptism.

"That is according to one account. According to another, gold ornaments offered to the idol, as well as vermin, scattered across the ground. Olaf is supposed to have then observed to the locals that such pretty things would look better on their wives and daughters. That was enough to secure everyone’s conversion. Whatever, 'they who met as enemies,' says Sturluson, 'parted as friends'.

Vikings Were Dreamers

"Viking lore is filled with dreams. Like their bloodiness, the importance of dreams to them may make moderns imagine the Vikings as simply “primitive” and “barbaric.” That's pretty funny. After all, even as the unquestionable bloodiness of the past century ought to keep us from condemning the savagery of any preceding age, it really is bizarre of us to view any people of earlier times as superstitious because they took dreams seriously... If any who are Catholic see it as superstitious or primitive, it only shows how they have been polluted by the spirit of modernity. They ought to be mindful of St. Joseph. One of the few concrete things Scripture tells us about Joseph is that at key moments of his life he receives instructions from an Angel who comes to him in his sleep - who comes in a dream." - catholicism.org
DISCUSSION: 
I emailed this dream to another lucid dreamer and friend.

James:
It's a very interesting and complex dream, Maria. Particularly the analysis. So help me to understand. Since it's not just the dream that's interesting to me. But also the how and why? And I believe I know what you're going to tell me. I think? So what is the purpose of having this dream? How does this information flow into your dream space and for what purpose? Do trust, I'll be super open-minded with regard to the dreamer's interpretation. I ask, in part, because had I asked the same question 3 years ago, I know I would have gotten a very different answer.

Me:
Ah, but I could never have had this dream three years ago! If there's one thing I've learned is that the how and why of a dream is not something than can be fully pinned down immediately. Although I can glean a part of the meaning, such dreams point to future developments as a result of progress made so far.

So into my dream last night comes Saint Olaf, the son of a pagan Viking king who became Norway's first Christian ruler and fought to unify the country and free it of neighboring oppressors. I can glean one reason for having been granted a mysterious interview with him in a lucid dream. Considering the position I find myself in now (being shunned by a lot of lucid dreamers because I am fully embracing Christianity as a result of my dreams) I feel Saint Olaf is urging me not to be afraid to fight for what I believe, and to use all my personal gifts and intelligence to defend the joyful strength of my newfound faith. He may also be telling me not to worry about my past sins. I also think it's significant I had this dream the night after All Saint's Day.

I transformed from a writer of BDSM romances (and apparently you're aware, James that my first published book was entitled Thorsday Night) to who I am now as a person and a writer, while Olaf was transformed from a teenage Viking killing priests into a champion of the Faith. Both our conversions, as often happens, were dramatic and absolute. Many Saints were once hardcore sinners before God took glorious hold of them.
August 31, 2023 

The day before yesterday, I asked, and determined, to make Saint Olaf my Patron Saint. Only for an instant did I wonder how he might feel about this, because it was he who came to me first in dreams. (I have since learned that sometimes it is the Saint who chooses us!)
I now say this prayer everyday:
"O my Heavenly Patron, Saint Olaf, in whose name I glory, pray ever to God for me: strengthen me in my faith; establish me in virtue; guard me in the conflict, and help me vanquish the malignant foe at every moment and attain glory everlasting." AMEN
And today has been awesome! (I'm writing this at 10:10 a.m.)

Something happened this morning I have never experienced. I woke up in bed as usual, and at once became aware of the absolute silence. I thought: We must have lost power. . . This very rarely happens, and although it forebode a major inconvenience since we don't have a generator, I was feeling no concern. It was a wonderful thing to wake up in a dream first before waking up in "reality" as I did suddenly yet smoothly. The only difference was I could now hear the quiet roar of the window air conditioner behind me.

This is Thursday, one of the four days a week I walk to Mass and receive Holy Communion. After walking with my little and hugely beloved dog Arthur to the ocean (on the way a hawk flew low past me) I walked to the church. It was my first time attending Mass since making Saint Olaf my patron saint, and I was in very good spirits, for it was also cool, breezy and sunny.

The old priest's sermon, inspired by the reading, was about being ready for the Lord's coming. "Just be ready," he kept repeating. "Don't (speculate) as to when He will come, just be ready." I thought, I'M ready! Then rising, I joined the line of parishioners on the right approaching the altar to receive the Eucharist. The line on the left is always slower because most people want to receive communion from the priest rather than the Eucharistic minister, and suddenly as I passed a man, on his dark-blue sweatshirt I saw printed in white letters the word VIKING. Apparently the designer's logo. I smiled to myself.

It wasn't until after I had received the Eucharist and was walking home that it hit me. This was no coincidence, in which I don't believe anyway. It wasn't even subtle. It was so gloriously Saint Olaf making his presence known, and assuring me that God has given him to me as my Patron. In all the countless times I have attended Mass in my life, I have never seen anyone wearing a shirt with the word VIKING written on it in bright white capitals and slightly wavy letters.

Driving to the grocery store (for naturally this happened on Thursday, the only day I drive along that blessed road I've already written much about) my delight was deepening to awe overflowing into incredulous joy as I only then fully registered the divine blow (Viking-like, for it was much more than a subtle touch!) I finally got the glorious message, and in my heart and mind declared to Saint Olaf, You're with me! You're right beside me! Not to mention that it also happened to be Thursday i.e. Thor's Day.

Not long afterward, driving home and turning onto my blessed road, I recalled that morning's false awakening. And as this cool, breezy, gloriously sunny day progresses, I truly feel and believe I was awakened this morning just before dawn by a sweet "little" lucid kiss on my dreaming head by my new faithful companion, Saint Olaf.

It's very relevant the man wearing the shirt with VIKING inscribed on it has always made me think of my ex's father. He and his wife don't come to Mass every Thursday; I rarely see them. It's not like he's often there, substantially increasing the odds he would come wearing a VIKING sweatshirt the very morning it would mean so much to me.

I feel Saint Olaf is assuring me we are mysteriously family now in the Communion of Saints.

Saint Olaf Dreams - Part 2

Saint Olaf Dreams - Part 3
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