A true story:
My youngest daughter, Kaylin, used to have a small pink chandelier hanging in the center of her bedroom...
One night in 2003, when Kaylin was five years old, my wife, Nola had just tucked Kaylin in for the night when she suddenly discovered that Kaylin's night light bulb was burned out, and there wasn't a replacement bulb in the house. Unfortunately, given that Kaylin was desperately afraid of the dark, we had ourselves a bit of a situation on our hands until Nola discovered that by adjusting the dimmer switch on Kaylin's chandelier to its lowest setting, a suitable glow of light shone throughout her room. And so it came to pass that an uneventful year of bedtimes came and went while Kaylin's small pink chandelier generously performed extra-duties as a nightlight. And then came the night of January 14, 2004.
It was the middle of the night and Nola and I were sleeping soundly when Kaylin suddenly called out loudly from her bedroom in a tone that sounded distressed, “Daaaaaddy?!" A few moments later, standing beside Kaylin's bed, she told me she had a bad dream.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it” she replied, followed by the sweetest little request: “Will you lie down with me?”
Although I don't remember doing so, I clearly obliged because I woke up some time later in Kaylin's bed. The only problem was, I had no idea where I was. We had moved three times in the past eight years, having only been in the current house for less than a year, so perhaps my sudden case of amnesia was justified. Nevertheless, within a matter of seconds, my complete lack of recognition as to where I was progressed into a full-blown panic attack like nothing I had ever before experienced. For lack of a better description, it felt like my head was going to explode. And even though that sensation lasted for probably less than five seconds, it felt like an eternity until I suddenly remembered waking up earlier in the night to the sound of Kaylin's calls and going to her room. I'm in Kaylin's bed, I realized, feeling the most amazing and indescribable relief I had ever felt. Unfortunately, the relief was short-lived because no sooner did I experience it, I was suddenly overwhelmed by extreme paranoia: If I'm in Kaylin's bed then where is Kaylin? My heart skipped several beats while the paranoia quickly intensified: Oh my God. I've accidentally smothered my daughter in my sleep. Expecting the worst, I was only partially relieved to discover my sweet little child laying in the bed beside me. Is she breathing? My fears weren't allayed until I leaned in close enough to see that she was indeed breathing. Okay. Okay. Everything is okay, I reassured myself as I rolled back onto my back and looked around the room for a second time. How strange that I had looked around moments earlier and hadn't recognized a thing. Of course, now that the amnesia had passed, as I glanced around the room I recognized every little detail without the least bit of difficulty: the bookshelves, the pictures on the wall, the stuffed animals, the chandelier. My eyes settled on the chandelier -- its five little bulbs twinkling dimly in the darkness. I knew exactly what I was looking at however there was something strangely familiar about the alignment of the bulbs. What is it? I wondered as I stared for the longest time before a sudden shift in perception revealed the solution to my quandary: the twinkling bulbs marked the extremities of a human body with individual points of light at the head, the hands and the feet. It was a beautiful sight to behold. And it came with a remarkable feeling of euphoria, and an instantaneous download of information that informed me that the sweet little constellation I was gazing upon was universally accepted as the symbol of humanity. I didn't doubt or question the veracity of the information. I simply got up, returned to my room, and crawled back into bed beside my sleeping wife. How incredibly blessed I felt for having had such an amazing experience. And I fell asleep. At least I think I did until I suddenly heard my daughter screaming in terror.
How long I had been sleeping, I had no idea. The intensity and urgency of the scream ripped me from my slumber and propelled me down the hall to Kaylin's bedroom doorway whereupon I found myself greeted by stone-cold silence. Was it all in my head? Peering into the silent darkness, I was almost convinced of this.
“What’s the matter?” I asked calmly and quietly, just in case Kaylin's scream had been a figment of my imagination.
A moment later, an equally calm and quiet response emerged from the darkness. “My night light is off."
How strange? How could Kaylin have shrieked for her life in one second, only to calmly speak in the next? I had no idea, but I didn't give voice to the question because just as I was wondering, I realized that her room was indeed pitch black, and I immediately reached beside her door frame for the dimmer switch. Pressing the on-off button, I heard it go 'click' but the lights remained off. I pressed it again, heard another "click' and this time the lights came on. For a moment, I was confused. How could the chandelier turn off on its own and stay off, even though the power switch remained in the “on” position the whole time? This was something that had never happened before, and incidentally, it never happened since. In fact, even after black-outs or power outages, the chandelier always came back on as soon as the power was restored. So, whatever happened on the night of January 14, 2004, it was an anomaly.
As I crawled back into bed beside my daughter for the second time that night, I had little choice but to accept the events of that night as a mystery. I knew it wouldn't be long before Kaylin would be fast asleep, so I lay on my back and gazed once more at that beautiful floating symbol of humanity. And that's when the penny dropped: Kaylin had been screaming in terror because the lights had gone out on humanity. The sudden realization of this hit me with a wave of chills that mercilessly ran up and down my spine. My guides and angels had been regularly communicating with me for the past few years not to perceive this strange occurrence as anything other than another one of their messages. But what were they trying to tell me?
An interesting side note:
For the first five years of Kaylin’s life, my work hours were consistently long, erratic and unpredictable – thus, Kaylin learned at an early age that “Mommy” was the one parent who could always be relied upon to respond to her calls in the night. That said, by January of 2004, Kaylin was well-accustomed to waking up in the night and going to the bathroom. The only problem was, Kaylin was afraid of the dark – so she needed an escort. Thus, for several years, Nola had always been the one to respond to Kaylin’s nightly calls for "Mommy." In fact, it was only on the rarest of occasions when Nola was too tired to get up, that Nola would nudge me and ask me to take Kaylin to the bathroom. That said, what was it on this particular night that caused Kaylin to suddenly call out twice for “Daddy?" Furthermore, given the history I’ve just described, how is it possible that Nola managed to sleep through both of Kaylin’s calls for help? Never once had she ever slept through a call for "Mommy." Never. And oddly enough, in the days and weeks that followed, Kaylin immediately returned to her regular routine of calling for “Mommy."
Okay. So what does it all mean?
As far as my understanding at the time was concerned, the experience of January 14 told me I wasn’t alone, I was on the right track, and the part about the lights going out on humanity seemed to suggest a sense of urgency to stay the course -- dramatic changes were coming, and soon. Beyond that, I hadn’t a clue. I had been working for several years to align my intentions with Divine Love and to master the negativity that I felt had mastered me for much of my life. So January 14 was looked upon as a physical form of confirmation and encouragement as opposed to the kind of encouragement I often “received” with words. Also, as far as the timing was concerned, I had just barely recovered from a traumatic spirit attack I had suffered a week earlier. And in the wake of this attack, January 14 was looked upon as a beautiful gift.
Below is one of the symbols I was inspired to create as a direct result of this experience. To me, this version best captures the childlike innocence I felt when I first recognized the symbol. Clearly, the idea of "oneness" was somehow transmitted to me. In fact, along with the symbol came the following words: Five Races of Man, One Planet, One Family, One Purpose.
For more of my continuing story, please see this post. Read More >>