Acculand vision: Domino, Xuan, Amraield, Arrowtoflower, and my twins

I wrote this post a while back, but I did not publish it, thinking the vision might be a little too “out there” for some readers. The truth is, I don’t want to alienate readers by seeming over-the-top new agey, because I am generally a very practical-minded person who believes in evidence-based research/science. But this vision was incredibly powerful, and it felt, at the time, as though it had the potential to be life-changing. I have been drawing scenes from the vision since I had it. And strange things have happened since then, as I’ll describe in my next post.

I did not censor myself while moving through this vision. I did not allow myself to feel silly or uncertain, and I did not let in distracting thoughts. Everything I saw flowed into my consciousness effortlessly. It was, without exaggeration, one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve ever had.


On Monday August 13, I went to acupuncture treatment with Hope Hathaway. As soon as she left the room, I began to have an intense vision.

The night before I had dreamed about a dolphin whose name is Domino. Domino is the first event in a chain of many, the dream seemed to be telling me. The cascade begins with him.

The next day, DH found out that he got the job he wanted, in Long Island. Freeing us to start making plans. Taking us out of limbo. The first event in a series of many.

In the vision, I ride Domino the Dolphin through bright blue water on a sunny day. I hold onto his back. He swims to shore and I walk across the sand to a jungle that transforms quickly into a deciduous wood in summertime. I see a wolf and follow him.

When I was nine years old, I wrote an eleven-chapter fantasy book; its heroine is a character I named Amraield (I had a thing for creating unusual names back then) who was raised by a pack of wolves. The leader of this wolf pack was named  Xuan (pronounced “Zwan”). This is the wolf that I see, and he brings me to Amraield. Amraield  has long black hair and wears a leather wrap. She is young, maybe nine years old, and much more playful than the character I created for my story when I was nine. Some of her teeth are still coming in. She is laughing. She is running through the woods, beckoning me to follow her with her laughter. I do.

We reach a clearing that gives way to a lush patch of bright green moss that spreads as far as the eye can see to my right and left. Before me, the ground drops away to an unfathomably large canyon, sort of like the Grand Canyon, but with a great deal of purple in the rocks. I stand on the edge of the cliff and my stomach becomes swirly as I look down. I’m not afraid. Amraield jumps up into the sky and flies. Xuan stands vigil on the cliff’s edge. I jump into the sky after Amraield.

Up there in the bright white sky we see the bird whose name is Arrowtoflower. This names comes from a Buddhist text I read about turning arrows into flowers in our lives– so that when the metaphorical arrow comes racing toward you, it turns into a soft flower by the time it collides with you. Arrowtoflower has markings on his back that depict an arrow turning into a flower. His head is rainbow-colored and is the flower’s bloom.

Arrowtoflower brings us to the far side of the canyon. We have flown from day into night. The sky is now deep blue.

As my feet touch the ground, I see a patch of lush, ferny moss not far away; it is bright, bright purple, almost as if it is lit from within. Amraield and I walk toward it. As we do, I see that on top of the purple fern moss is a glass cradle that is in the shape of dolphin arching its back. Inside the dolphin are two babies.

My babies.

I begin to cry, here in Brooklyn, while lying on Hope Hathaway’s table. I am crying as I reach down for them in my vision. An intense wave of chills rushes through my body, so intense I almost cry out.

I hold one baby, and Amraield holds the other. Then she hands me the one she is holding, and I hand her the one I am holding. They are very small, they have black hair, and they are asleep. They are so warm. 

We lay the babies back in the crib, and I lie down on the ground. Bands of starlight connect my ovaries to the babies, one band of starlight for each baby. Their souls are entering my ovaries. Then Amraield gives me the signal that it is okay to leave the babies and go up into the sky. I jump into the sky, with the stars, and become a constellation. I am a woman made up of an outline of stars. I am dancing up there. I am moving, flying apart, coming together. I am taking care of some things, and I know that Amraield is taking care of my babies in the meantime. They are safe and waiting for me.

I come down from the sky. Amraield and I pick up the babies and walk toward a cave. The cave curves and I can see a red light around the bend. When we come to the deepest part of the cave, I see a red warm fire. Amraield and I sit by the fire–she passes a baby to me, I pass a baby to her. We hand them to each other gently, back and forth, over many hours. I breastfeed them. I think with strong thought: “I am your mother. I am your mother.”  And I know that the strength is coming from Mother Earth.  I know that if I can only get back in touch with Mother Earth–that primordial power and grace and wisdom–I can be the portal for these precious lives to come into this world.

I turn and I see that the glass dolphin crib is waiting for us. Amraield and I lay the babies down in the crib to rest. I lie down on the floor of the cave and two bands of white fire-smoke drift over from the two babies to my two ovaries. I know it is their spirits, their souls, entering my eggs.

The vision shifts. Now it is bright daylight. Amraield is now about fourteen years old. She is thinner. She still smiles, but she is not as playful. She seems serene. We are standing in a wide open field filled with bright purple, yellow, blue, pink, and white flowers. It is stunning. I look down and I see that the flowers are growing up my body and becoming a dress for me. I am part of the field, the flowers. I am wearing Mother Earth. I am Mother Earth.

I turn toward the sun and I see these two little children come toward me. They are older now–maybe three years old. My children. My twins. One is a boy and one is a girl. They are running toward me and laughing so hard they are crying. They are spinning each other around and around. The girl has black hair in two pigtails. The boy has thick black bangs. They look a lot like DH. They are so happy! I put out my hands and they come to either side of me. I put my hand on the girl’s head. I put my other hand on the boy’s head. I turn around, and Amraield is at some distance behind me. She slowly waves. She is giving us her blessing. She is at peace, seeing the three of us together at last.

My children and I begin to walk toward the sun. The vision ends with a silhouette of the three of us, in the field of flowers.

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  1. Wait—what? « the unexpected trip

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