Was something paranormal happening? No. Here is the explanation: Since my childhood, I have suffered from a medical condition called dysmetropsia micropsia -- this is the occasional illusion in which everything in your field of vision shrinks down to a tiny size. The effect is caused by the trauma of a pending migraine headache. Most likely, it is the swelling and/or contraction of veins in the brain creating problems within the visual cortex.
Thus, when I saw everything shrink, I knew exactly what was happening. I would soon be suffering from a blasting migraine headache. The problem was, I would not be able to do anything about it, such as give myself a pre-prepared injection -- and that’s because even stranger events were about to unfold.
I said to Brian and Lyssa-Melissa: “I’m having the shrinkage illusion again. I’m about to have a severe migraine, so I guess we have to wrap up the Ouija session for now.”
And then Lyssa-Melissa -- a tiny, elf-sized Lyssa-Melissa -- walked up to me and spoke in a voice that seemed gigantic compared to her itsy-bitsy body. She said, “Ken, come outside. Walk outside with me. Please. I have something important to show you.”
Strangely, the miniature version of Brian stood by and stared at both of us with a far away glassy expression. Suddenly, he seemed to be in a trance. I began to feel extremely odd -- something weird was starting to happen -- but, again, I attributed this to the dysmetropsia micropsia, which makes you feel peculiar in other ways in addition to the illusory shrinkage of the world.
Lyssa-Melissa reached out an ant-sized hand and placed it in mine. She led me toward the front door. I said, “Okay, wait, let me put my coat on, it must be 20-below-zero out there.”
Lyssa-Melissa said: “Don’t worry, you won’t need a coat.”
This made scant sense, but I let Lyssa-Melissa lead me toward the door. Trantor the cat was also acting strange. He began to growl at Lyssa-Melissa, which was amusing because with my dysmetropsia micropsia now in full bloom, Trantor looked like a peewee mosquito kitty. But he stayed close to me, and clearly intended to go outside with us.
Lyssa-Melissa stepped out ahead of me as I braced against the blast of winter, but as soon as I stepped outside -- STUNNING! -- For I did not find myself in the bitter Minnesota cold -- I was standing right smack dab in the center of the Restaurant at the Edge of Time!
I REALIZED IN THAT INSTANT THAT I WAS STILL ASLEEP!
I HAD NEVER AWAKEND FROM MY ORIGINAL TRIP TO THE RET!
THE OUIJA SESSION I HAD JUST CONDUCTED HAD BEEN A DREAM TOO!
I HAD BEEN FOOLED BY A FALSE AWAKENING -- AN AWAKENING WITHIN A LUCID DREAM -- YET STILL A DREAM!
But that was only the first shock. The next mind-ripper was this: Lyssa-Melissa still held my hand -- except that she was no longer Lyssa-Melissa -- she was the beautiful waitress of The RET! Yet, that was not all. At that moment, I had the enormous realization that, in real life, there is no such person as Lyssa-Melissa! If you recall in Part 1 of my story, I identified Lyssa-Melissa as my friend Darcy’s sister. The reality is, however, that Darcy does not have a sister!
Somehow, I had fabricated the entire existence of Lyssa-Melissa within the fabric of my lucid dream, and while submerged within my dream scenario, I did not question the ultimate reality of her existence! This was a heavy blow! Suddenly, a person I thought I had known and loved for many years turns out to never have existed in the first place! My dreaming mind had given her a past, present and future, and a unique personality, including a delightfully musical voice. All artificial. All dream stuff. A wave of emotion flooded over me -- I felt like crying. I already missed Lyssa-Melissa. She had never existed, yet I loved her anyway. Now she was gone. She had never been.
The beautiful waitress -- who had formerly been Lyssa-Melissa -- still held my hand, and seemed to read my thoughts, and feel my sorrow. Her angelic eyes were moist and brimming with compassion. She moved close, embraced me and kissed me softly on the cheek, placed a comforting hand on my face. Her scent was divine, a subtle mixture of vanilla and lilac. She said, “Oh, such a boy. Don’t worry. But please -- you still have a little more to do.”
With that, she pointed over at the table where the Triad of the Nine still sat, now with their heads attached to their bodies -- but they looked a 1,000 miles away -- that was because the dysmetropsia micropsia had followed me into my lucid dream, or I should say, had manifested itself within the dream right from the start. Trantor now directed his anger toward the Triad. He arched his back and mee-owled at them with disapproval. Hearing Trantor’s warning, the ugly heads of the Triad disappeared and, in a flash, were replaced by the second-level set of ordinary looking heads. Trantor relaxed, but remained cautious.
If you, my dear UM readers, think all of this has been strange, so far -- well -- you haven’t read nothing yet. That’s because what was about to happen was even more bizarre, as I’m sure you’ll agree.
Thankfully, the fickle dysmetropsia micropsia effect began to collapse. (Which is also not so good because that meant a miserably bad headache would soon follow, even inside the dream). The dimensions of The RET began to adjust and grow. When normalcy resumed, what I saw next was yet another brain scrambler. The wooden bowls which the Triad had previously been eating from were cleared away. Rather, in the center of the table was an Ouija board! Yes! The Triad of the Nine was conducting an Ouija board session there in the Restaurant at the Edge of Time!
The lovely waitress had her arms wrapped around my waist and her head resting on my chest, but then released me, and told me she would be nearby if I needed her. I approached the Triad of the Nine. Trantor jumped up on the table and began watching the planchette move across the board under the hands of two members of the Triad. The third Triad member was acting as recorder.
For the moment, the Triad was so absorbed in their session, they paid no attention to me or Trantor. So I stepped up and began to listen to their line of questioning. I was intrigued to know who the Triad was channeling via the Ouija. The first thing I saw the Ouija board spell out was:
I FIND YOUR REQUEST FOR ME TO ADD YOUR HEAD TO YOURS BAFFLING. WHY WOULD YOU WANT MY HEAD? PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS, IF YOU WOULD.
The Triad Answer: “We would become a quad. Adding your head to ours means we all gain. You have nothing to lose and everything to avail. Will you proffer your head?
The Ouija board spelled out:
I’M SORRY I MUST DECLINE YOUR OFFER. BUT LET ME ASK YOU THIS: WHERE ARE YOU LOCATED? DO YOU LIVE IN ANOTHER WORLD, ANOTHER DIMENSION, ANOTHER PLANET?
The Triad replied: We are of the 12th Aeon. Are you familiar with this illustrious epoch, the greatest of all?
I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THE 12th AEON. I LIVE ON THE PLANET EARTH, IN A PLACE CALLED MINNESOTA. DO YOU KNOW IT?
When I saw the Ouija board spell out this last response, a jittering electrical current ran up and down my spine. Here I was, in the RET, and I was observing The Triad of the Nine communicate with some Ouija entity -- who said it was from Minnesota -- where I live!
Could it be?
I stepped forward and interrupted The Triad. I asked them: “Triad, may I pose a question to the entity to whom you communicate on your Ouija board?”
The Triad spoke in unison: “By all means. Please offer your question.”
I decided to use a fake name in asking my question: “Hello, my name is K’Ching,” I said. “I am not of the Triad, but rather an associate. Please tell me, what is your name?”
The Ouija entity answered:
MY NAME IS KEN, AND I AM HERE WITH MY FRIENDS STU AND RACHEL. IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, K’CHING. ARE YOU ALSO FROM THE 12th AEON?
I swooned. My head began to vibrate and feel like it was expanding and contracting -- and not just because a migraine headache was kicking in. I was buzz-brained because I realized that The Triad of the Nine was talking to ME on the Ouija board!
But how could that be possible? I was here now -- in a lucid dream, yes, but that meant my physical body was back at home in bed, fast asleep. What in the name of The RET was going on here! I decided to pose another question to the Triad’s board:
“Tell me, Ken, what is your reckoning of time? Can you tell me what year it is where you exist at this moment?”
The Ouija board spelled out:
“YES, THE YEAR IS 1980. WHY DO YOU ASK, K’CHING?
Once again, I felt thunder in my head. Apparently what was happening here was this: From my position in the dream world of The RET, I was actually having an Ouija conversation with myself -- but with the ME that existed some 25 years ago when I was a college student. In other words, “Future Ken” was having a conversation with “Past Ken” .... I mean, “Present-Day Ken” was having a conversation with “Past Ken” ... that is, to “Past Ken” I would have been “Future Ken” but to me, I was “Present Ken” .... and so on.
What really baked my noodle is this: For the first time, an Ouija entity whom I was having a conversation with was not only a living human being -- but that human being was none other than myself -- or I should say -- the human being that I was a quarter-century ago!
While all of this was mind boggling, I have to admit, it was also a creepy feeling -- creepy in a way that is hard to explain. I mean, think about it. Would you like to have a conversation with yourself -- but “a self” that is in many ways a different person, “a self” that you once were in distant years past? It may sound like fun just to think about it, but when you are in a position as I was, to actually speak to my Past Self -- well, it was just something I did not want to do before I had more time to contemplate it. So I decided to ask just one more question to my Past Self:
“Ken, this is K’Ching again. Tell me, what month is it where you are now in 1980?”
THE MONTH IS FEBRUARY, THE 17TH OF FEBRUARY. WHY DO YOU ASK?
I told my Past Self: “Listen to me carefully, Ken. In about three months, in May, you will consider buying a used Volkswagen Rabbit. The owner will tell you the car is in perfect mechanical condition. But if you buy this car, one day you will be hundreds of miles from home driving through the small town of McCool Junction, Nebraska, your transmission will lock up. The car will be rendered beyond repair. You will be stranded in McCool Junction, Nebraska, for three days. You will be miserable. Don’t let this happen. Don’t buy the Volkswagen Rabbit. Understood?”
YES, THANK YOU, K’CHING. I WILL CONSIDER YOUR PREDICTION AND HOLD TO YOUR ADVICE.
I thanked The Triad of the Nine for letting me insert my questions into their Ouija session. I also told them that the “entity” they were speaking to was, in fact, me. Interestingly, The Triad of the Nine understood immediately -- they had no problem with the concept that “Present Ken” could be standing in front of them here while “Past Ken” was speaking to them through the Ouija board. Like many Ouija entities and beings of the lucid dream world, The Triad operated under a concept of time that does not make distinctions between past, present and future.
Another concept to consider: Remember, this entire episode was all contained with my lucid dream. Therefore, one might decide that I had not spoken to my Past Self, but rather, only dreamed that I had spoken to my Past Self via the Ouija Board. On the other hand, one must be careful about making mundane assumptions, and forcing old models of reality upon what could be something entirely different.
Is a dream “just a dream” or another legitimate phase of reality, no less real than our waking consciousness? If the latter is the case, it could be theorized that while I was in my lucid dream, I was free from the constraints of my ordinary physical world, and thus had legitimate access to my Past Self who was a real as my Present Self, my Dream Self.
Anyway, it was high time this particular lucid dream to reach a definitive end. I bid the Triad of the Nine farewell, picked up Trantor from the table, and commanded myself to come awake. Together, Trantor and I would travel back from the dream world to our “normal” waking reality.
I awoke in my bed -- my wife was sighing gently in deep sleep next to me. As I sat up, Trantor, who had been sleeping at the foot of the bed, came awake and looked at me. A pale beam of moonlight streamed through the bedroom window and glinted in his cat eyes like a wink between two conspirators, two friends, a kinship formed by our co-travels into the dream world.
This time, I made sure I was “really” awake by going through a 10-point protocol I had long ago developed because of the many times in the past I had been fooled by false awakenings. The protocol involves walking around my house and identifying a series of objects, looking at the calendar to check the correct year and date -- and so on. This was made particularly difficult, however, because my dysmetropsia micropsia had returned full force. As I moved about my home, struggling to identify tiny objects, reading the miniscule numbers on clocks and calendars, I finally satisfied myself that I was truly awake this time.
But I still had work to do. I injected myself with 50 mg of sumatriptan to ward of the impending migraine, and then I sat down at the computer and typed up all the events of the dream, which I had to do before returning to sleep, or lose many of the intricate details of the journey. Let me tell you, writing under the nauseating influence of dysmetropsia micropsia is anything but pleasant. I set the text to enlarge by 200% -- and struggled through 3,000 agonizing words of notes, stopping once to hurl.
I finally finished and went back to bed, exhausted, headachy, but with that thrilling feeling of expansion from yet another lucid dream adventure which pushed out the limit of my reality ever further. In the morning, I would call my friends Brian and Darcy and schedule yet another Ouija session -- again, I wanted to speak more with the Triad of the Nine -- this time, while definitely awake.
But I also had another urgent reason for wanting an Ouija session the next day. I wanted to see if I could contact Lyssa-Mellissa. Oh man -- let me tell you -- I really wanted her to be somewhere. I wanted to talk to her again.
Ken's blog: http://www.ironghost.wordpress.com