I had a dream last night and it went something like this:

 

The sun was high in the cloudless sky and very hot, hot enough to make me realize I wasn’t in Wisconsin anymore.  At first everything was dark, as the torturous solar rays continued to beat against my body my sight began to come back, it felt and looked like when you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands for a few seconds, the blurriness faded and I found myself staring into a vast desert.  Waves of sand blanketed my vision all the way to the horizon, the sun was indeed almost square in front of me and when I looked down I instantly felt a wave of vertigo.  I was sitting on a very large mountain or cliff with my legs casually dangling over the side.  I steadied myself by putting my arms on the hot rock behind me and shifting my gaze to the right.  As I fought the intense urge to push myself backward rapidly I remembered that this was a dream, so I just went with the flow.  My mind began to relax and there was an instant change in my surroundings, now I could hear other people all around me, the sounds of twenty different conversations echoed within my ears.  They were speaking a foreign language, yet it sounded oddly familiar to me.  The more I listened the easier it came for me to understand them and within minutes I was listening intently to a couple of men talking in hushed voices.

“It will be done on schedule or the pharaoh will not be happy.”  My ears almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing, the pharaoh?  Wait a minute, the scorching sun, the vast desert, the language I was hearing, I was in Egypt and not just plain Egypt, ancient Egypt, the place I have always day dreamed about but never actually dreamed about (or at least remembered) until now.  I looked around again but this time with exhilaration and fascination in my mind and I began to cry.  It was the greatest feeling I have ever felt in a dream and it seemed as if I could even smell it.  I stood up and took inventory of my actual situation.  I was about 250 feet up sitting on the edge of the very unfinished Great Pyramid, judging by my hands and feet I was young, 12 or 13 maybe, I was on one of the paths the men used to haul up the enormous blocks straddling two of the wooden runners the blocks slide across, a few feet away from me on the inside of the path stood the two men I had been listening to.  One was about a foot taller than the other and dressed in fine white robes, the other shorter man had a leather skirt and a very dirty apron hung over him.  Workers laboriously chiseled and hammered away on all sides of us and as I let my ears wander I could hear a distant yelling followed by a loud multi-pitched grunt, it was a teamster leading his block dragging men up the path.  I watched in sheer fascination as he led his team around the corner below me.  He walked backward and erect, one hand held a whip which he flicked effortlessly into the air while the other held a bullhorn.  Twenty men pulled ropes in the front of the block, ten to a side, one man then a afot of rope another man, and so on.  Three men directly behind the block pushed as two watermen waited on each side.  The water men would pour water on the logs to make the logs wet, thus helping the block to slide.  As much as I was in awe of the display of human ingenuity I was struck with a deep sadness.  What a horrible way to make a living, most of the laborers never lived past thirty and one in five suffered grave injuries, yet they kept at it, day after day for twenty years.  The determination, bravery and willpower those people showed make me feel so inadequate and lazy.  I was lost in my thoughts, enjoying this once in a lifetime opportunity and had blocked everything else out which is why I almost scared myself awake when a hand grabbed my shoulder.  I turned from the team and found myself face to chest with the tall white robed man.  I slipped my eyes up to his bearded face and could instantly see a twinge of annoyance in his eyes as he spoke, “Urha, you need to keep your wits about you up here, stop daydreaming and grab my bag, we are done here.”  The man pointed to a medium sized satchel by his feet, I bent down and picked it up.  As the man began to walk down the path I waited for him to get a few feet ahead of me as my curiosity got the best of me and I peeked into the mysterious bag.  It was full of rolled papyrus, a few quills and a couple of bottles of ink.  He was a scribe or a priest and I must have been his apprentice.  I was in heaven! I almost scared myself awake again as I began to think maybe this was heaven, but when I slammed into the back of the now stopped scribe I was following all thoughts of anything faded from my as he grabbed my arm and bent to my level.

“Pharaoh be praised my boy, what is your problem?” Before I could think of how to properly answer he dragged me to the edge of the pyramid and for one moment I a thought crossed my mind that he was going to push me but my panic subsided as he took hold of my shoulders and pointed to my chest.  His lips were very close to my ears as he spoke I could feel his breath's heat on my cheek.

“Look closely at the land in front of you, see the trees, the sand , the great Nile that gives us everything we need, Father sun warming our souls.  Look upon all of these things with the wonder and curiosity of a child.  The Gods built us this world, they want to feed and protect their children and all they ask in return is that we remember who they were and what they gave us.  We can build monuments like this one, we can write words or paint pictures to show proper respect but there is only one true way to give reverence to our creators.”  He paused for a minute, I had never felt so safe in my life as I stood there warm from the sun and his loving embrace, “The only way to properly show the Gods how thankful we are to them is by following our hearts.  The heart is our connection to this world and theirs, if you have a good heart and try to do your best then in the end the Great Judge will put it on the scales and measure your worth.”  He grasped my shoulder tight and whispered one more time into my ear, “Urha, or Edgar, as you are called now, is your heart ready to be weighed yet?”

 

I woke up then.  I felt like I had been there before, I felt as if I had known that man my entire life.  I wasn’t surprised to feel tears on my cheeks.  I won’t get into reincarnation and past lives that is for a different day.  Real or just a random event created by my slumbering mind I don’t know but I do know his question has been resonating in the back of my mind since I woke up.

“Is your heart ready to be weighed yet?

Is anyone’s?

PEACE!!!!!!!!!