The problem with interpreting dreams as prophecy is that we never remember all the dreams we had that turned out to be predictive of nothing. After all, there are billions of people dreaming billions of dreams every night. Out of all of those, certainly a few will match up with a later reality.
Two times in my life, when I’ve been in a car with my mother and a toy mouse, we’ve had to leave the car and run for shelter from a tornado. The second time it happened, I had dreamed about it the night before. I don’t carry around toy mice anymore. I was never much in the habit anyway, but it began to seem like a bad idea.
My great-aunt liked to insist that my grandfather was psychic and that I, since he’s my mother’s father (???), had inherited it. I haven’t ever had the kind of visions she claims he had, but he and I both faint after visiting people in hospice. Empathy with the dying, or something. The last time it happened to me was while visiting that particular great-aunt.
I have taken LSD and psilocybin several times. I saw the Statue of LIberty helicopter dancing at a Grateful Dead concert.
I got some stories. No knee-slappers or heart-stoppers, but they may prove to be mildly entertaining.
So, first a clock chimed on my birthday once. This clock had stopped functioning many years ago. It wasn`t just any old clock but a real fancy clock, a gift from my paternal grandmother IIRC who died before I was born.
My dad was at a red light in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere which, when it turned green, as lights are wont to do, felt an inexplicable urge to wait a while, almost akin to an external voice but not quite. Not less than two seconds later, a car zooms past the intersection faster than hell’s bells. Needless to say there was much a metaphorical crapping-of-pants.
Another time my dad had what could be rationally explained as a sleep-attack. He felt strong pressure on his chest and the intense but gentle notion that he should pay attention because something big was about to happen in his life. Unlike the usual sleep-attack, he wasn`t scared at all. Two weeks later his mom died young of a random blood clot.
On a lighter note, while exploring a huge temple/shrine complex in Kyoto, I took a random trail under the false assumption it was a shortcut, which in turn led to various wacky hijinx. This could be interpretted as a playful jest from the local fox demons.
Well I did recently listen to the recording of a banshee trying to relive it’s human life by singing a little ditty.
Something similar happened to us last summer, and it’s something I attribute to a really weird coincidentiality (is that a word? well it is now) - we had been vacationing in Florida, and were headed back to Tennessee. Wondering what the exact mileage was, I set the trip odometer when we left the hotel front door in Panama City. Sometime after we finally got onto Interstate 65 after reaching Birmingham, AL, I noticed the odometer, including the tenth mile markers, exactly matched the mile markers on I-65. For instance, 355.5 on the highway, car said 355.5. This went on for several miles, until we made a side trip. I had not reset the trip odometer when we entered the interstate.
I used to come home from work driving north on Lake Shore Drive. Usually, the far right lane just short of the Belmont exit slows up with a long line of cars, so I avoided driving in that lane.
One day, I had something on my mind and I wasn’t really paying attention to what lane I was in. I was driving along in the far right lane when I noticed what I was doing, and just as I was thinking, “Oh crap, I’m in the wrong lane,” KABLAM!!! There’s a huge accident that takes out all three of the other lanes except mine.
I passed by the whole mess thinking, “Ooooookay.”
When I told this story to my mom and my coworkers, they tried to convince me it was all God’s doing. So what did God have against the people in the other lanes, I wondered.
I had dreams from the time I was a child that someday I would have a beautiful black horse. I gave up on my dreams for awhile, but one afternoon when I was up at a friend’s barn where we were boarding our horse, Mickey, I heard someone say “Come see the new horse!”
Dawn was the horse from my dreams, and not three months later I had her registry papers in my hands.