[astralwanderer]

I'm not sure if this belongs more here or the astral projection forum, but it seemed to have more metaphorical significance so I'm posting here.

I was dreaming I was at some kind of party, outdoors beside a large office building in a big city. There was a loud trumpet sound, audible in the environment but also inside us all. Beams of light shot up from the tops of all the skyscrapers and changed color in synch with one another. Everyone was mesmerized. I felt the group's collective consciousness say, "Jesus is coming." I saw the sky open. Everyone was chanting, "Glory to God in the Highest," saying the Lord's prayer, and chanting in Latin, all in synch with one another.

I was pulled out of my body, toward the sky (at this point, I really was out of body, it was no longer a dream). I said, "This is happening." I felt sheer ecstasy and saw a swirl of the most vivid colors; I felt the most comfortable warmth. I felt vibrations that were literally heavenly, a very high speed. I felt I was being transported to heaven. I was becoming lost in the sensations, accepting eternity, then everything stopped/slowed.

I heard, "It's not time," then I was gently lowered to another place in another, lower plane. It was like a large studio apartment. There were people at an island in the kitchen area, which was in the middle of the room. I approached a man, early 50s (incidentally with a Scottish accent), who was busy working on something. I felt groggy. I said, "What happened?" He didn't look up at all during the conversation that follows. He said, "They tried to make you a martyr." I said, "What? Who did? I don't understand. It felt so real, so pure." He said, "Look at the wounds on your stomach." I didn't want to believe it. He said, "Go on. Look." I looked. There were two surgical drains over my stomach and the rest of my abdomen was really distended. I gasped. He said, "And you're lucky we were able to get it all out. The drains will fall out when they've done their job." As he said it, they fell out.

At this point, he stopped what he was working on, looked up at me, and gave a look of real fatherly concern. He pointed at me with the tool he was using and said slowly, "You have to be more careful." Then I dropped back into my body abruptly (acutely aware of that distinct sensation) and was looking out into the darkness of my room.