Dream – rising waves—circa 1982 in Vieques, Puerto Rico

We lived for a time in the peaceful village named Esperanza on the Puerto Rican island of Vieques.   Esperanza sat on the Caribbean side of the island on a bay with tranquil waters, often more warm than cool, and shallow, making it a safe place for families with small children to swim and enjoy the beach.

In my dream I was enjoying the water as were many other people.  I noticed a wave come in that seemed bigger than usual. After it passed, another wave slowly came in, this one slightly larger than the first one.  Initially, I enjoyed how the waves rose and then sunk beneath me.  As soon as one wave moved through the bay, another one immediately followed.  I became concerned as the waves started coming in more frequently and each one was slightly larger than the last one.  I started telling the people around me to get out of the water and head for the beach, but no one seemed to hear me.

Looking out toward the horizon, I saw more waves heading toward us. I swam toward a family near me and urged them to head out of the water.  The waves were thrashing the area now, and it took all of my strength to keep from being pulled under.  I no longer could think of helping others; now I could only worry about my own survival. 

Once more, looking out to sea between waves, I saw in the distance a huge, black wall of water heading directly for the bay and I realized we no longer had any chance to get out of the water in time to avoid the tsunami-like wave from taking all of us away.

When I woke up and meditated on the dream, the thought I had was that the waves represented the increasing catastrophic turmoil affecting the world of humanity and that humanity could no longer prevent the upheavals, but only try to endure them.  We had entered in the words of the Universal House of Justice, “the dark heart of the age of transition.”

Chris Cholas

Dream – In the Plaza, circa 1983 in Vieques, Puerto Rico

I was in a Latino-style plaza with a gazebo in the middle and benches at various places around the plaza.  People were relaxing in the plaza, some looked sullen and abject while others were joking and seemed content.  Although overhead the sky was clear, at one end of the plaza in the far distance the edge of a dark storm was visible.  On the other end stood a small office.  I became aware of a dire warning coming from the dark side of the sky—in the voice of Hand of the Cause of God Amatu'l-Bahá Rúhíyyih Khánum  the message was being sent to Shoghi Effendi, who was working in the office.  The message warned of a fierce, super destructive storm coming.

 In the midst of this warning, I suddenly had the self-centered thought of being able to meet the Guardian in the office.  I began wondering how I should act when I meet the Guardian.  This thought grew in my mind as I went to the office and quietly opened the door and entered.  How should I act in front of the Guardian? – kept running through my head.  Shoghi Effendi was bent over a desk working on a message. I stood still waiting for the Guardian to turn and see me.  How should I act when he sees me? I kept pondering.  A dark aura hung over the room.

Suddenly the Guardian turned and headed to the door passing me as he left the office without, in the least, acknowledging my presence.  Somewhat taken back, I paused for a moment and then impulsively followed staying a few steps behind Shoghi Effendi.

He began walking around the plaza, passing by some people without a word, and, then, suddenly he would stop at a bench where a somber person sat, and looking at the person, ask them, “Can I take you to safety?”  The person would nod, and Shoghi Effendi would lovingly lead him away somewhere soon to return and continue his walk in the plaza. Again he would pass by some people and suddenly stop for others, asking them the same questions—“Can I take you to safely?” and lead them away from the plaza, leaving me standing and wondering what was happening.  I again would follow behind him as he eventually went up a few steps into the gazebo area and stopped.  And I continued to wonder how I should act in the presence of the Guardian.

Abruptly, he turned to me and said, “We do not have time to think how we should act in front of the Guardian; a dark storm is coming and we do not have time to argue with those who doubt that a storm is coming.  We only have enough time to find those wishing to be taken to safety and to take them there.” 

With a shudder I awoke from my dream, which has stayed with me ever since.

Chris Cholas,