The dream occurred, on Monday, December 2, 1991, whilst the Moon was in Scorpio transiting my sixth house.  Every now and again, long after his passing, there would be dreams such as this one which would revisit the gravity of Merlin’s end-of-life illness.

These dreams are uplifting in their beauty, realism and inspiration.  Deeply breathe in and drink of this poetic turn.

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I was standing by this shore looking out to sea.  There were some orcas that had come close into shore.  It was, in fact, an unusually murky sea.  The waters looked even cloudier because the cetaceans had been chopping up the sea a great deal with their mammoth bodies.

Out to sea on these rocks, there were some wonderful, little sea lions basking.  There was clearly a coral reef in that section of the water.  Where the killer whales were, of course, there was no reef.

Suddenly, one of the orcas bolted like a submarine-launched torpedo.  With lightning speeds, in such shallow waters, it made for a young adult sea lion.

It was overcast here.  Goodness, before I knew what was happening, it had ferociously ripped into this animal and was manically feeding on it.

Basically, the pod had come in to feed but this one orca had become frustrated.  The tide was rapidly changing and they knew that they would have to head out to sea.  Based on the tidal activity, the pod knew that they had arrived a bit too late to make a successful kill.

I had been looking at this bunch of guys who were working as marine biologists.  They were there to usher the orcas back out to sea so that they wouldn’t beach.  This would be most queer if they did because orcas almost never do beach.

The human professionals had to do so very cautiously and at a safe distance because, at any moment, the orcas could have attacked.  Finally, they managed to guide the orcas out to sea where they then took off.

After that, I entered the sea as did some other bathers.  There were about eight of us and we swam out to sea because moored out to sea was a wonderful, large white yacht.

The stern of it was facing directly to shore.  Another vessel was also out to sea; it was a brown schooner and a bit off to the left.  As we swam I did the crawl; it made my progression so timelessly beautiful.

The water was not too choppy and the further out one got the murkier it did, in fact, get – and just as well.  I started gaining, whilst a girl swam to my right and rear.  She was pointing out that I was soon going to get ahead of the guy in the lead who was outfitted with snorkelling gear.

He kept on looking down into the water.  Taking his time, every now and again, he lazily used his fins.  This guy wore a partial wetsuit that ended in shorts at just above mid-thigh.

The marine biologists were, of course, wearing full wetsuits.  Their wetsuits were no doubt, though black, outfitted with that mesh to prevent them from being severely injured if attacked.

I effortlessly swam and, in point of fact, I was almost as if a fish in my complete union with the water.  More than that, I progressed through the water by sheer will.

As a result, I was as if an aquatic creature in its medium and one not hampered in its progress.  Of course, normally I would have been much slower for being human but things were different here in the dreamtime.

It was, in fact, quite beautiful.  My head was always above the surface.  When I got close to the stern of the white yacht, it was populated by a bunch of young-souled, aggressively smiling people who were on a leisure trip.  The stern of this yacht was unusually wide with a white awning overhanging it.

When I got to the side of the brown schooner – a beautifully polished, medium-tanned wood, I then propelled my way out of the water and dove up into the air.

At the zenith, which I had gotten to by powerfully kicking my legs in a cissons-like motion taking me clear of the water, I was now above the considerably raised deck of the schooner to my left.

Stationary in the air, for a second, I then arched my head forward bringing my body forwards.  Pulling down my head, I brought it into my pointed feet with legs fully extended.  At that, I kicked opened my legs and was now stationary in the air whilst perfectly upside down.  My head was craning back so that I could see the water way below.

I began diving downwards but this was more so flight than merely crashing down at normal speeds.  Majestically, I gracefully spliced into the water.  It was a rather effortless entry.  Beautiful!  It was quite nice.

I then came up for air.  All the young souls, on the white yacht, were excitedly paying tribute to how skilled I was.  They had been thoroughly impressed – not that I had done this for anyone’s benefit.

I had distinctly been aware that I was dreaming.  It felt so freeing to will my body through the water that the next logical progression was to have become even freer in another medium – air.

The water, in fact, was covered here with seaweed as though it were close to the full Moon.  Characteristically, it is during this stormy lunar phase that much kelp gets uprooted, harvested and make it ashore.  This always creates quite a mess of things.

I then got up onto the brown schooner with the others and we hung out.  The guys on board were going to be taking our picture.  I was hunched down in the front row and was sunnily smiling enjoying having my picture taken – which is certainly rare for me.

However, I thought that because I was feeling in such good spirits I would show-off and leap off the edge of the schooner and into the water.  I did not, however do so.  In fact, I was glad that I hadn’t because when I got down into the water, I realised that the water was quite shallow on that side of the schooner.

The vessel had, in fact, been docked at this reef but was in no danger of grounding, for being moored there.  It was a very thick, massive, coral reef which was on the port side of the schooner.

I went and walked around on top of the coral reef; the sea came to just above ankle level.  So had I dived in, I would have suffered a great deal of head and neck injuries; it wouldn’t have been pleasant at all.

Then I came off the reef by walking on it out to sea.  I then jumped off the reef’s edge and down into the deep water.  I was swimming around towards the bow to see the other side of the schooner.

It was then that I had a pang of fear thinking,

‘My god, Arvin, what if there are sharks just below the water here, having hidden out under the edge of the reef?  I could be attacked from below.’

The water was so murky.  The profusion of kelp obstructed a good view of things.  However, then I thought that that was being silly of me because that was being fear-focussed.

It was the certified way in which to bring on negative experiences.  So I promptly decided to heal myself of such images and to move away from such fear-based vortices.

Then, on swimming around to the starboard side of the schooner, the kelp was so thick that one could easily walk on it.  I got up and walked leisurely atop the kelp.  It was delightful an experience.  I moved towards a door that was opened in the hull – just inches above the water.

On getting inside the hull, I visited with a couple of people.  We were talking and having a good time.  I can’t now, however, say that I recall the gist of what we were discussing.

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I do know though that at one point whilst on board, I had encountered Merlin.  I was so blown away to have seen him.  He was off by himself.  He was alone and very introspective.  He was very weak.  Immediately, I came to his side and visited with him.

I felt a swell of compassion towards him.  It was devastating to see him in this state because he was very frail and just as he was a week before his passing.  It was so wholly unexpected.

Merlin was so drained, for being ill, that he couldn’t even communicate.  However, it was okay, for me.  All I needed was the drink of his company and the touch of those soulful – though here weary – truly magus eyes to parch my questing soul.

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Photo: Schooner.

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