The Dream Altar
Recently, I was visited by someone from my childhood in San Jose. Back then, he wasn't very kind, and unfortunately, his attitude didn't improve much as we got older, he was always a bit of a bully. Even when he appeared to me in dreams, it seemed like he could barely bring himself to acknowledge me, almost as if someone else was prompting him to speak. Deep down, I sensed he was seeking some sort of approval, so I decided to interact with him. It seems that everyone who has been part of my life, from my earliest years to now, has encountered me before their own passing.
On another occasion, I encountered a priest who had been my friend since sixth grade—Father Mateo Sheedy. Throughout the years, he inspired me deeply, taking me on trips to Tijuana, Mexico, where I learned valuable lessons in compassion. Fearlessly, he used to preach in the most dangerous neighborhoods and reach out to gangs in my area, places I would never have ventured into myself. The experience of knowing him led my dream altar to become an integral part of who I am, both spiritually and in everyday life. It became a source from which I could call forth the light.
When Father Mateo passed away from cancer, I felt a profound sense of grief and anger toward God. It was hard to understand why someone who made such a positive impact on our community could be taken from us. The last time we were together, we embraced and shared tears. Then, just a week later, my mom phoned me with a shaky voice to tell me that Mateo had passed away. Instinctively, I reached out to my spirit altar and called for Mateo. Suddenly, I sensed a doorway opening and heard unexpected sounds—laughter, music, the clatter of dishes. I saw him approaching me, no longer confined to a wheelchair, but walking freely. He greeted me, saying “Takayo”—Spanish for “same name”—and showed me he could walk. I was amazed and celebrated with him.
He then excitedly told me that he would soon be able to celebrate mass. When I replied that he used to do that when he was alive, he explained that this time it would be with the disciples themselves and humorously wondered what he could possibly teach them. We both laughed, and I suggested he tell them a joke, which made him chuckle even more. There was a pause, and I felt the presence of light beginning to draw him away. He told me he had to go, and I told him I loved him. He said it back, and I heard the doorway open once more—then he was gone.
I’ve established this altar in my dream space so that those I’ve known throughout my life can find a peaceful journey toward the light. Its purpose is to allow my astral presence to assist spirits who are hesitant or fearful about moving on. I’ve always had the ability to glimpse into that other realm and offer my farewells within the spirit world. Guided purely by intuition, I naturally reach into these inner realms without second-guessing. While I’m uncertain whether this gift can be taught, I firmly believe that an altar created with true purpose can manifest the space of dreamtime and provide a vessel for the astral body’s travels.
How many of us even think of doing more spiritual work on the other side? When we crave sleep to rejuvenate for the next day, who wants to do more work? Some of us just do it; it’s in our DNA, part of our mission, and a joy to know that our spirit is involved in creation from the beginning to the end. Asleep or awake, we do the work we were made for. Wakiin Mato (Lightning Bear)
