Category Archives: automatic writing

Nightmares can be Real

Gloria Rising pp 14-15

AUTOMATIC LETTER 9

Wednesday night

Hi again,

A little girl sat straight up in the darkness of her bedroom and screamed.

The nightmare that had awakened her was so vivid that for a few moments she thought she might still be in the woods being abused by a menacing figure. It was a dream, but it was real too because the figure was in that very house. In the dream we couldn’t tell whether the chasing figure was a man or a woman but awake she knew it was a man. Outside the storm that had been raging when she fell asleep had stopped. In its place moonlight filtered in through the window and washed her room with a pale glow.

It should have been reassuring but the dream was still there, springing out at her from the shadows of the room like the flickering images that still darted through her mind. The killer had scuttled after her through the woods like a beastly forest creature hunting prey. She had been caught in the killer’s strong arms and carried off to a haunted cabin deep in the woods. That’s when she screamed and woke up. In her mind the dream was so vivid that when she saw the sleeping figure on the floor near her bed she screamed again.

“What’s the matter are you having another nightmare?” he asked. “Don’t worry I’m here to take care of you, nobody will hurt you.”

How could she tell him that he was the one, she was so afraid he would hurt her? The nightmare had become real. He had a room why didn’t he go to sleep in it instead of her little room. She had a lot of answers, but none made any sense.

She had a lot of questions but no one to answer them except him and he wouldn’t make any sense. “How long could the nightmares go on before she lost her mind,” was one of the questions?

Me

Grandpa Butcher and Terrified Little Girl

AUTOMATIC LETTER 71

Saturday night

Dear Adam,

When I awoke tonight, I thought I might have had a nightmare I felt tired, achy, and cranky as though I had not had a good night’s sleep – now I remember Gloria had the bad dream, I do not sleep ever – I’m watching the “Other”, he can’t see me but I can see him, he’s winging the ax up and down through the air – I do wish he would put it down. I’m only six years old and he is pretty scary. He has killed already you know, he even severed a hand at the wrist, I saw it lying there downstairs it was not a very nice sight – nor was all of that blood – and he who once was like a grandfather to me is now a bad stranger – why I was the only one allowed to use the short cut between our homes and his wife (Gloria’s sister) would call me in to have strudel a very special pastry that little girls like me love. Here as I talk about pastry with Grandpa Butcher out there – he’s stabbed too. I’m screaming but only in my mind – thoughts reach in but not soothing thoughts – I do not know this person anymore – I have never known him. His mouth is a cruel slash, his nostrils flare, his eyes are too bright like glass and he’s waiting to kill me his little friend. Trembling, I think this is a dream – all is well and those downstairs safe – I am safe – no fear – no hurt – no danger – no killing – no blood – no DEATH – NO DEATH – but it is not a dream they’re under the thick layer that is woven together. I know there is death – but not mine – not yet. I won’t be taken by surprise but how will I fight a giant of a man. I’m just a little power but I won’t die like a dog, no way. I’ll not let someone put me away that quick. Somehow, I’m going to LIVE. I have a lot of dreams to make come true and I won’t die – I won’t! Oh! Oh! Oh! A mouth and eyes the mouth is wrapped around a terrible scream and the eyes are screaming too – a child screams the child is all eyes and mouth. I can’t see who she is this little girl so terrified. I cannot see who but I feel her fear – I must see! I become the future – I still hear the scream and I feel the scare the fear is so dark. I cannot see her but somehow, I know that little child is little Gloria – the screams go on and on. It ends with a fall – the impact of the ground the darkness the hurt. I shiver, I’m so cold – I’ll never be warm again. I’m so cold it’s not over – this is not a story or a movie it’s for real – screams float in the air – a child falls outside – you bad, bad man. I’m so cold – a horrible thing to know at six years old that you’re a little coward and despair and shame fills me – it’s hard to hold back the tears and be still when your heart is breaking. I saw him coming only because I was there at the window – you can’t see people coming from any other part of the house because of the trees and the bend in the driveway. I saw him and did nothing – I saw what he did and I went back into hiding. I scream inside its icy cold and I can’t stop my cowardly shivering. I am so scared my eyes are crying with no tears – I saw them there downstairs – blood – agony and all I did was go back upstairs. I hear the click of a doorknob and from the sound someone has entered downstairs it’s got to be him – I don’t see him at the tree stump there’s a child on the ground where he was – no hands bloody – hide the scream quickly – I’m so cold – don’t move – don’t shiver – don’t make a sound and live – live – but again, I’ll know if I live that I was a cowardly little girl like the cowardly lion in Oz – be still – be still not a sound. I’m so cold – shudders down my spine – drops of water run down my back and I’m freezing – someone is coming up – heavy footsteps – my heart beats so fast – I’m so icy cold.

Gloria’s Helper

The Guardian speaks on the Power of Human Channels

Gloria Rising: pgs. 170-171

“For now, I will say that God endowed humans with a great many powers

and forces; and some of the creative, constructive powers can only be

passed on through channels of others—in this case, Gloria.”

“There is something I need to say. Any form of information can be of

help if it is received at the right time. Gloria’s sore throat has to do with

an identification imprint, and I would like to give you fragmentations of a

suggestion—‘lilacs’; ‘summer day’; ‘scarecrows.’ Unless I tell you this, you

may start chasing down blind alleys. Two or three imprints are blocking

observation at this time. The fact that the unconscious, Gloria’s Helper,

made a mistake in judgement should not be allowed to cause negative

emotions. The unconscious has a child integrity. Good concentration

(yours and Gloria’s) is a definite asset in this work.”

“A sign of her healing emotionally is when she can talk normally about

things that used to terrify her.”

“You’ve built her up, or she would have gone crazy or died. You helped

her get out a lot of violent feelings.”

“Healing Gloria takes time. It took years to build up all her emotional

problems. Kept her past hidden, pushed away, a big secret. There’s a lot to

be remembered, a lot to be gone over and reviewed, so Gloria’s Helper can

change her mind and better influence Gloria.”

“Letters are good too, creating a lot of tension while at same time,

bringing the whole thing to a head.”

“What you sense in your heart and feel in your conscience must

be the greatest part of your training. You must have confidence of your

experience. If people only were not so afraid, such abundant unconscious

resources could be put to use for progress. People are still groping in the

‘Dark Ages’ where limited conscious beliefs trap them in a microscopic box

of awareness—unaware of what lies beyond, what is possible.”

Gloria’s Helper, “… Early this morning I heard a voice, a huskier voice

like a man’s voice, so much good in it. It seemed to come from something

bigger than me. It said, ‘You were drifting off and thought you were dying.

You’re really not. What’s happening is the old you is dying. You’re lucky to

have a second chance; most people don’t have. Life will be filled with love.’

All of a sudden I realized I wanted to live.”

“Too many dysfunctions at this time. The ‘unconscious’ takes things

literally, sees what it sees. Has gone off again feeling extreme guilt. Need

to work with unconscious feeling guilty about many things. I know it is

hard, confusing, like dealing with three stories going on at once. You’ve

gotten fragments but it will make sense. Gloria’s Helper believes she killed

the ‘Other.’ She needs to believe that for now. At least she’s beginning to

accept a painful reality and not running away.”

“As you started this journey what would it have profited had you worried

about the closed door ahead? Power and your talent operate through

human channels, as you have seen. So this is the continuing lesson: Just

go step by step—as you continue in spite of every obstacle. You will never

cease to be thankful for this time of learning.”

Dr. Adam Jaxon: A Port in Many Storms

AUTOMATIC LETTER 124, pg. 186

Wednesday night

Dear Port in Many Storms,

Sleep came quickly tonight. So did dreams – dreams twisted into nightmares.

When Gloria sleeps she’s like a frightened child – she’s either running from someone or is trapped by someone. In this dream she was an adult though – in one dream she was cold – too cold but there was no warmth, only fear, leaving her weak. She tried to scream but no sound came – she tried to run but her feet weighed as much as big rocks deeply rooted into the earth.

She had to try harder to move or she’d never get to you before the “Other” did.

She was broken and bleeding, screaming finally, reaching, and stumbling but she had to get to you. The “Other” was laughing and the sound was colder than frigid wind. He said, “You didn’t know about Gloria’s amnesia – the nightmares that lapped over into nights triggered by a word – did you know that she was afraid of going crazy?”

Even in the dream Gloria was sure if she could reach you first you’d be a lifeline capable of pulling her beyond the reach of whatever terror stalked her. She had survived the deaths of many, now she was trying to survive a different kind of death – a shattering loss of belief in herself, in her own strength, her own mind. Now she was trying to ask herself if it was worth it, any of it, if there was no end to fear and loss and deaths. Then she remembered how you had survived also and how strong you were – it showed in your movements, in your laughter, in the clean male lines of your face – she wasn’t terrified of you like with others and yet you were strong in mind and body – you moved with the easy strength that always fascinated Gloria yet your voice was gentle and your hands were – beautiful – an odd way to describe anything so strong and quick as a man’s hands yet that is the word – not all hands had affected Gloria like that – sometimes she saw hands and terror was in her. But I’m getting away from the dream here (you’re not often in our dreams). I was telling you how Gloria was trying to reach you first before the “Other” so he wouldn’t be able to convince you that she was losing her mind and imagining the real fear and the pain and terror of death he gave her – but no matter how she tried she couldn’t get to you and when she woke up she was so happy it was just a dream.

Gloria’s Helper