Yesterday started like any other day. I woke up at the end of deep, multi-dimensional dreaming. I was tired and a little worn, but I got about my day. Did my morning practice. Had breakfast. Answered a few emails. Went to yoga class. Picked up a prescription at Walgreens. Had a ZOOM meeting with a potential collaborator. Had lunch…
THEN…IT…HIT…ME
A steel wall of SOMETHING. The something felt like exhaustion and anxiety, pressure, weight and dread. I felt like I could pass right out standing. I tried to take a nap and found I could not. I took my afternoon coffee and read for a little then my soul screamed “Dairy Queen.” I grabbed my purse and head outside and again got hit by a steel wall of SOMETHING. I could barely see. The sun was too bright and too strong. I felt sick, nauseous, anxious, and afraid. I muscled a drive to Dairy Queen to get an Oreo Cookie Blizzard (why….by the way are medium Blizzards almost $6.00 when just a couple years ago they were $3.00?????). I came home and enjoyed my Blizzard (chocolate IS a remedy against dementors) while my body was quaking with SOMETHING. The anxiety was palpable and overwhelming and IT WASN’T MINE! My whole body felt ill and like it was under attack.
Then came the call, “You doing ok? I’m struggling. Ears ringing non stop. Disoriented and feeling like I’m under water. Literally gasping for air. Trying not to die. Holding space for you (protection from the evil eye symbol).”
OMG! It’s not just me! Another spiritual warrior reached out to say, “Some major shit is going down and we’re being called to the front. Going into prayer.”
I thanked my friend. Said “ditto.” Then I did the same. I went deep into prayer, sending healing and peace to whatever that SOMETHING is/was.
This is what it looks like to be called to spiritual warfare (for lack of a better word). Any day at any time something visible or invisible is happening in the world that calls us “to arms.” Our arms are not guns or bombs. Instead, our arms are prayer and the healing balm of Love that resides within each of us that is called forth whenever collective healing is needed in our world. It’s intense work and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but I’m glad to do it – as if I ever had a choice! God is funny that way.
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Lauri Ann Lumby 
Mine tend to hit me in my dreams. What’s funny is that these dreams, where I used to just run or wake up suddenly to escape the attack, I either fight back or, if I do run, I strategize, making sure to barricade myself in a place that has an escape route and/or a place to pee. I’m not kidding. The latter happened quite recently. The last time I had a dream of being spiritually attacked I’d actually hopped into a friend’s dream. Sitting in the backseat of her car, I saw a massive cloud of dust coming right for us, and I instinctually spread my arms out. When the thing hit, it actually moved the car a few feet, but did not harm anyone.
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Me too! I’ve come to believe most of my dreams are me doing work on other dimensions. It’s the only way I can explain the exhaustion I feel after I wake.
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