I had a dream in which I saw myself driving. It was a beautiful day in Wichita. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I could see light, empty, white clouds on the right side of the horizon. Treva was sitting next to me with a big smile of contentment on her face, and the kids were in the backseat. My green Buick felt big, luxurious, and comfortable.
Then I came to a ramp that would take me onto a highway. I had gone only a few yards up the ramp when I found it was clogged with traffic in front of me. Suddenly, night fell and it was pitch dark all around us. Lights from the surrounding neighborhood started to come on and twinkle like stars in the sky. Some instinct told me that I had taken a wrong turn, and now I was stuck. A sense of panic enveloped me. I could observe the same feeling in Treva. It was too dark for me to see the kids in the backseat of the car.
A car drove onto the ramp and stopped at the end of the long line of cars that had formed behind me. The headlights of that car were big and bright. Two people got out of the car. With flashlights in their hands, they walked toward my car. I could only see their silhouettes outlined against their bright lights. Upon reaching my car, they stood quietly next to my window. Deep silence and peace showed on their faces. Instantly, I recognized them as my guides.
They had come to me many times before, and still do, to this day. I cannot call on them. They come whenever they consider it necessary. In each case, I know they are the ones with the answer, and they command authority. Even though I am in a state of sleep at those times, part of me is highly alert and conscious. After these encounters, I can fully recall the meetings years later, as if they have just happened. For lack of a better description, I call these encounters “dreams.” My guides usually come in pairs, and although they may look different from dream to dream, I know who they are.
On this night, the guides appeared to me as middle-aged, white men with dark hair. One was taller and heavier than the other. They were wearing windbreakers.
“I am stuck,” I said to them.
“What would you like to do?” the taller man asked. As he spoke, his face came into focus. The other man remained totally still and silent, and his face remained out of focus.
“I want to go back, but I do not know how to do it.” I was embarrassed to let Treva and the kids know that I had taken a wrong exit.
“Then why don’t you go back?” he asked.
“I don’t know how,” I said again, with embarrassment.
“You just go back the way you came,” he said.
I looked at them again. Their faces started to fade. They turned around and walked back toward their car.
For a moment I sat there, scared that the cars behind me would not move. I shifted into reverse and started to back up. The guides, as well as the long line of cars behind me, began to back down the ramp.
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