F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction (New Weird) Author

To Be Human

A Guiding Hand

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Pay Attention. To Everything. (By Master Sgt. Cheresa D. Clark (https://www.dvidshub.net/image/384328) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)
Pay Attention. To Everything. (By Master Sgt. Cheresa D. Clark (https://www.dvidshub.net/image/384328) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)
I read this short in the June 2015 Reader’s Digest (RD). I love these kinds of stories! I paraphrase it here, but you can read in on page 25 of the Your True Stories, in 100 Words section in RD:

This woman, Grace Napier, out of Greeley, Colorado wrote how she’d been leaving for work one day, when, as she was making a right-hand turn out of her yard, she felt a firm hand restraining her right shoulder. She was forced left.

No one else was present.

Grace decided to continue in that direction and take the longer route to work. There was no traffic.

At the end of her work day, she returned home and learned there’d been an accident that had occurred on her normal route to work, the route she would have taken had she not been “nudged” out of the way. The accident had occurred shortly after 8 a.m., when two vehicles had crashed. The crash has also pinned a crossing guard between the two vehicles, killing him.

Grace said she would have been in that accident.

Another Probable Death Vision

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Hello, Again, Reaper. No, Not Yet. (By Jesus david piña (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons)
Hello, Again, Reaper. No, Not Yet. (By Jesus David Piña [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons)
Yesterday, while driving back from a trip to Wyoming with a couple of others, I had another vision similar to the one I described about at an intersection in Arizona, in The Grotesquery.

We were switching off with our driving, and at the time I was in the back seat of the vehicle. I was alternately reading and cleaning off my iPad’s tons of emails as I looked out the window. It was a stretch of two-lane road between Riverton and Casper, Wyoming before the Interstate takes over at Casper. As I’m cleaning off e-mails, I suddenly have this image of all of us in a car crash…including an article stating that one of the passengers had been on his iPad. I internally sneered at being “that guy.”

I looked up.

I saw the silver front grill of a white, late-model Ford truck bearing down on us.

We were halfway into the oncoming lane’s traffic.

I heard a shout from one of the two in the front seat.

We jerked back into our lane.

Besides thinking WTF, the next question in my mind was why the hell hadn’t that truck swerved out of our way?

I won’t go into why we had drifted into the on-coming lane’s traffic. The fact that we had…and I’d again had another mental image just before another probable accident…is the point.

If I’m going to continue having these things, I’d really like to have them with a little more room for error, if you know what I mean.

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The Grotesquery (fpdorchak.wordpress.com)

Cat on a Couch

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Chloe and Cassie, December 2004
Chloe and Cassie, December 2004

I have put off writing about this for a while…but it happened again, yesterday, so I simply can’t ignore it any longer. It’s not just a trick of light or shadow. It’s something else, entirely.

In August of 2007, while I’d been on a business trip, we lost one of our cats, Cassie, to kidney failure and another complication. She was a beautiful gray and white “flower child” mouser who would actually go outside and smell our flowers. Not kidding…she would go up to them and stick her nose into the petals and just, well…smell. She also had a habit of dropping dead voles and field mice at our patio doorstep (on occasion sneaking them into the house before I could see what it was she had in her mouth). But we called her our “flower child.” She was very sweet and loving and our first cat as a couple. She loved to sit up on the top edge of one of our couches, the one before our picture window, and just look out at the world.

A pensive cat.

A philosopher cat.

She would either hunker down on the left side or sit upright. In the picture above you see that “dent” on the left, where our other feline is sitting? She did that.

Well, ever since her passing, I’ve kept catching brief images of a cat (not Chloe) on the top of that couch. I’d stop and back up…looking to the couch…and would see nothing. I would bid Cassie a “Hello, Cassie!” and move on.

Well, it happened again yesterday morning as my wife was getting off to work (I took the day off). The curtains were open. I had walked through the kitchen, which has a view of the above-mentioned area, and again caught a flash of a cat sitting upright on the middle top edge of that couch (just a smidge to the left of where Cassie is in the picture).

I still have that image burned in my mind.

There was a cat there.

Then there wasn’t.

And Chloe was sleeping upstairs on “her” (our) spare bed; I’d just come from there.

I backed up and looked…no Cassie. Told my wife about it.

Now I’m writing this.

Hello, Cassie!

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Dreams

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Don't Sleepwalk Your Life--or Your Dreams--Away. (Sleepwalkers, © 2001, F. P. Dorchak, ISBN: 0-75963-950-7)
Don’t Sleepwalk Your Life–or Your Dreams–Away. (Sleepwalkers, © 2001, F. P. Dorchak, ISBN: 0-75963-950-7)

Do you remember your dreams?

How many do you remember?

Have you ever changed the direction or outcome of a dream?

Not everyone believes this, but we all dream…and we also dream while we’re awake.

I’ve learned most of what I know about dreams not only from direct experience, but from reading the Seth Material. One of the things mentioned was just this: that we dream while we’re awake. That statement intrigued me—still does. But I believe it. It actually makes sense to me. I’ve felt “dream links” while awake…some of which I’ve had that actually “reach back” to dreams I’d had years and years ago, sometimes to the same dream, sometimes to a version of it, that, perhaps, kept going on and I just “dipped” into it. And…I do remember a lot of my dreams. Have recorded them for as long as I can remember. I have always remembered my dreams. I (and we all do) have multiple dreams—sometimes simultaneous dreams—and I usually remember several of them. Lately, I’ve been remembering an average of about three dreams a night. One night, geeze, maybe some 10 or 12 years ago, I once recalled a double-digit number of dreams from a single night. It was on the insane order of something like 13 dreams! It took me quite a while to write them all down to some level of detail, and it was about then that I allowed myself to, ummm, forget them. Or remember only the coolest ones. Sometimes [conscious] life just gets in the way…thing is, we can always change our direction and allow ourselves to, once again, remember that which we directed ourselves to forget….

The dream world is similar to the awake or conscious world, in that it is a world of its own, so to speak, with its own (again, “so to speak”) timeline. But what most do not realize is that both the dream and awake lives are intertwined and interact with each other. We don’t just dream images that we’ve encountered while awake…but all of life is linked, so, yes, you will dream about things from your awake life, just as you will see also things in your awake life from your dreams. But which came first? It’s not a matter of linear sense. It’s a matter about multi-dimensional, Venn diagram-like interlaced interaction! Perhaps you’re dreaming a lot about work, say, or an issue that’s plaguing you. You may be dreaming about these things to “let off some steam,” or release stress, for example in the dream state. Or maybe you’re dreaming about them to help you in the awake state—or both. But it’s up to each of us to discover these reasons…these interactions. And it doesn’t matter if we’re right or wrong about our “findings”…what matters is that we’re trying to delve into them…to understand them…and that we’re using our own capabilities as we do so.

About a year or so ago, I developed a condition that requires me (so far) to take some medication that seems to affect my memory of my dreams (yet I remembered remembering them, I like to say)—I was not happy about that. But, I made a concerted effort, and no kidding, I’m now back to remembering my dreams…as I said, on average about three a night. And they’re just as intense as I remembered them. I think what this drug does (as I analyze things) is that it “turns off the memory switch” really quick.

Just like the proverbial light switch.

But I found that if I really put in the effort to remember them immediately upon awakening, I’d remember them. I’d have to stay in bed, sometimes in the same position I woke up in, and they’d come back to me. They also seem to leave quicker, i.e., I forget my dreams quicker, with this medication. They may still come to me later in the day—or even later in the week—but it really seems as if this medication works exactly like some weird-assed dream light switch, which I do not like. But I can force the issue…which I have been doing…and it actually works.

So, back in the mid-to-late nineties, I decided to write a novel about the dream world, Sleepwalkers, and I eventually published it in 2001. It was a fun book to write, and, after I published it, a friend of mine—who’d been having marital problems and forgot her dreams or just experienced nightmares—used the techniques I wrote about (and got from the Seth material) and began remembering her dreams and dispelled the nightmares! That was the coolest thing I’ve ever heard from something I wrote! When I first wrote the novel, I’d hoped it would help others out there…and that is exactly what had ended up happening…I’d actually helped a real person in need.

There are a lot of dream interpreters out there who would have you read their descriptions of symbols and their interpretations of said symbols…but what I would have you do is to interpret them yourself (and, yes, I got this from the Seth Material). Whether or not your versions of symbols match with others’ interpretations is not the issue—what is the issue is that you are not doing the work; you are allowing others to do it for you. What is important about dream work is: 1) that you make the effort to remember your dreams, and 2) that you make the interpretations yourself. It doesn’t matter whether or not your interpretations are “correct”…what matters is that you exercise your own conscious analysis of your own dream symbols. Doing this awakens and strengthens the “metaphysical muscles” you have and allows them to grow, which, in turn, will lead to other metaphysical growth. Don’t make another outside of you your dream guru. None of us needs “gurus”…we all have within us the capability to answer our own questions, our own problems. It’s okay to discuss our dreams with those we are close to, but do not let anyone else tell you what your dreams mean. What these people are actually telling you—when you really think about it—is what your dreams mean to them.

Do not place the power of directing your life in another’s hands.

Okay, here are some things I’d like to throw out there that any of you can try, to get more out of your dream experiences. It’s fun, and really stretches the mind!

  1. Tell yourself and expect yourself to remember your dreams! It’s that easy! Now, it may take some time for some, but we all dream—no exceptions. We just don’t remember them. So, if you don’t remember dreams, just be kind to yourself and allow yourself to remember. As soon as you wake up—stay in bed and open your mind to “what you just came from.” Keep with this until they come—they will. Many times I “remember remembering” them and leave them at that. After all, you have the rest of your life to remember dreams!
  2. When remembered, write them down! First, write out the dream(s) as well as you remember them, then do an analysis of all things in the dreams, from how you felt, to any and all of the symbols in your dreams. List the date and time you’re writing them down. I bold the dream dates and times of the dreams that are as intense and as real as my awake consciousness, and also insert a “Very there” at the start of each of these kinds of dreams. Yes, this can take a lot of time, and you don’t have to do it for all of them, but doing it for even one helps you tremendously in doing your dream work! And if you just can’t get around to writing them down, don’t worry—just remembering is enough. Becoming conscious of the unconscious is what’s important!
  3. If you don’t remember upon awakening, allow yourself to remember later in the day or week, or whenever. I frequently remember additional dreams later in the day. Sometimes a day or so later! If I can, I still write them down. Sometimes they feel tied to something I’m doing, which is probably why I remember them later when I do.
  4. While remembering dreams you might feel that you’ve recalled one or more dreams that actually happened at the same time. This may very well be what has happened: simultaneous dreams! They actually have happened at the same time. I frequently recall simultaneous dreams, and mark them as such.
  5. Here’s are really cool and fun thing to try during the day (or night!) when you’re conscious and not sleeping: try to imagine your dreamworld during the day…and that there are things going on in it while you’re awake, in a parallel life. I do this and periodically feel my dreams as still on-going. Can even feel the same “dream feel” from my dreams while awake. It can be very “mind expanding” and opens up a whole new world of imagination and consideration!
  6. Throughout the day, ask yourself: What am I actually conscious of at this moment? What this does is get your consciousness aware during your dream states, so you can play in a far more richer and rewarding dream experience while actually being conscious in your dreams (it does many other things, but read the Seth Material for that, in particular, Seth, Dreams, and Projections of Consciousness…). Become aware that you’re dreaming…and (this is also really cool) getting you to the point where you can actually change the direction of your dreams! Is something happening that you don’t like—are you having a nightmare?—then consciously change that dream into something of you do like..or merely tell it “No!” and to go away. It’s really cool when you find you can do this. My favorite type of dream are flying dreams, so I love to change my dream directions and take to the air. When I’m aware enough to do so, there are times I’ll tell myself that I can fly (even if a part of me niggles me that I can’t), and I either just take off running, or simply blast up into the air like Superman and fly. These are truly my favorite dreams! I can really feel all the sensations of flying and performing intricate and gnarly aerobatic maneuvers!

These are just some things we can each play around with and try. As I’ve previously mentioned, I’ve had reincarnation dreams, as well. But read some of the Seth Material, in particular the book, Seth, Dreams, and Projections of Consciousness. It might be [philosophically and metaphysically] too much to read at first, if you’re not familiar with the Seth Material, so I do recommend you at least read Seth Speaks, first. You really should read them in order, but if you’re open-minded, you might be able to handle the dream book first or second.

In either case, try the above six items I’ve presented here, and see what you come up with—or share your experiences, here, as comments!

Happy dreaming!

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My Civil War Life

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Me, Bull Run (Manassas, VA) Battlefield, and Zouave Reenactor (April 22, 1990)
Me, Bull Run (Manassas, VA) Battlefield, and Zouave Reenactor (April 22, 1990)

Around the age of six, my mother tells me, I began to write (and draw) because I thought I’d had been a soldier in the Civil War. Some of the surviving artwork from my childhood shows (among the “normal” dinosaur and spaceship stuff) Civil War battles. Several of those battle scenes are labeled “1862” and deal with soldiers and bayonets.

Now, let me tell you about a dream I had as a kid, one of which I still remember: that of being bayoneted in the side during a Civil War battle.

It was your basic, being bayoneted-in-your-side kinda dream, you know, battle, violence, that kind of thing, is all I remember. I think it was my right side, but am no longer sure.  But, I’d awoken from said dream in intense agony, clutching my side—so much so that I actually fell out of bed. There, on the floor, the intense pain persisted for many minutes after waking from that the dream and I remember writhing and grunting as I clutched my side, my back against the bed. It wasn’t until years later that I’d told anyone about it. In adulthood I finally told one of his brothers, Chris. To both our astonishment, Chris told me he’d had the exact same dream as a kid.

In 1990, I left the Air Force and Colorado and moved briefly to Alexandria, Virginia.

While there, I’d visited the Civil War battlefield Bull Run (aka Manassas). I had already visited several Civil War battlefields before (and since), but, at this one I’d begun to experience what I’ve come to describe as my “Twilight Zone experience”: though I couldn’t name fields or the units that had fought there, I had had the most unnerving experience of literally feeling torn between two worlds: that of being both in the present, but also in the past—in the Civil War—there, at that battlefield. Throughout the entire tour of that battlefield, I felt as if I’d been there before.

Died there.

It felt as if the battle had just happened yesterday. My body felt electrified, “shifting,” almost “vibratory” as my then-girlfriend and I

The Stone House, Manassas Battlefield, VA (April 22, 1990)
The Stone House, Manassas Battlefield, VA (April 22, 1990)

toured the battlefield. My girlfriend thought I was crazy…but went along with me and my sudden weirdness. I simply could not shake it. It was the coolest feeling. Such feelings are not uncommon. While some can remember intimate detail, others just get these little weird feelings. I was much older (29) when I experienced this, so there is a lot of mental filtering that can go on (e.g., perhaps one’s soul or “greater entity” doesn’t want you focusing too much on the minutiae of previous lives—again, for whatever reasons, maybe we’d get too caught up in the “grass is greener” syndrome, or wax too nostalgic—but allowing you to remember you had other lives is fine). Were I younger when this happened, I might have been able to recall more, but the older you get, the more “barriers” there are to reincarnational memories, apparently, no matter how “enlightened” one may be (again, see previous “e.g.”). But this feeling was so stark, startling, and real to me it was no different than being repeatedly hit in the gut with a sledgehammer.

And, curiously, these feelings of mine all revolved around the second of the two battles, the one fought in August of 1862.

Now, all my childhood drawings show the typical “blue and gray” uniforms, never the colorful display of the Union Zouave, but the Zouave uniform does seem to hit a “mark” in me, though I’ve never really liked that uniform. Maybe I fought alongside them? So, was I part of the 5th New York (this link is an incredible, tragic account of the decimation of the 5th New York), or some other unit, I’m not sure, but I know that in one Yankee uniform or another I fought and most likely died somewhere on that battlefield. And speaking of uniforms, ever since childhood, anything Civil War, uniforms, weaponry, just the mention of the war or its years, all strike a chord in me. It feels like I’m still wearing those uniforms, every time I see one. It feels like I’m still holding a Springfield rifle, every time I see one. I mean, why would the Civil War hold such sway over me—or anyone, for that matter? WWII holds similar sway, but but not nearly as intensely as the Civil War does, except for B-17s. Where would such an “interest” arise? Most women I know don’t seem to have much interest in wars, so why does my writer friend Teresa Funke have such an intense interest in WWII? As a kid, I lived and breathed the Civil War, my room totally done up in all things Civil War: walls painted gray, royal blue carpet, blue-tan-and-gray-striped curtains, stars-and-stripes light fixture. Flags up on my walls, maps. I could rattle off battles and campaigns like nobody’s business, the major players on both sides. Why? To me, “just an interest” doesn’t cut it—why the interest? Why not in Rome or flowers? Cars? There was something inside of me that drove my desire to study the Civil War so damned intensely, to visit the battlefields, read the history. I don’t believe in coincidences. There’s always a reason for why things are.

Henry Hill (I believe), Manassas Battlefield, VA (April 22, 1990)
Henry Hill (I believe), Manassas Battlefield, VA (April 22, 1990)

And it’s not that every leaning or interest of ours is from a reincarnational life, but some are, and we need to internally examine our own thoughts and feelings to make these determinations. I do not let any other lives—previous or otherwise—rule my life. I do not pine for them nor romanticize them. I am firmly in my current existence. But I am amazed and curious about the other lives I feel I’ve lived. I know I meet others from other lives in my current one, but it doesn’t mean we have to be best buds or even stay in contact. Sometimes it’s just enough to pass by and simply say “Hi,” and move on. But some lives were quite intense and had nasty outcomes, like my Civil War, Titanic, or WWII B-17 tail gunner experiences. I think we do attract experiences and “things” from other lives into the current life, because it’s a matter of energy having a Venn Diagram-like effect, and it’s a good thing that not everything transfers from one life to the others. But, I do try to share the positive energy between my lives, learn from them, and move on.

I’ve been back to Manassas two more times in this life, and in none of the other visits had I behaved as I had on that first trip. I have been to other battlefields, Gettysburg (twice),  Ball’s Bluff, etc., and never felt like I had during the first trip to Manassas. But, that’s okay…and is as it should be. I’m now aware of what happened and growing from it. I even wrote a supernatural short story that was inspired by visiting one of the Manassas grave sites.

In the end, I love my current life and, as I understand things, realize all our lives are going on concurrently, though we perceive them linearly (those of us who perceive them at all), living in corporeal existence. I’m not interested in retreating back into any of these lives (Are you kidding? I certainly don’t want to relive dying on a Civil War battlefield, being shot out of a flak-ridden sky as a WWII tail gunner, nor again going to my watery grave with the Titanic!), but I am interested in what seems important enough to percolate back into my consciousness from these other existences (I was once muscle tested by a chiropractor to find out how many lives I was supposed to have lived; I didn’t know what he was doing as he rattled off “random” numbers. He came up with 14). Though it is the present that is always the point of power, the focus in which we should be in life, do pay attention to the odd little predilections you have, the so-called incongruous thoughts you might have. Where might they come from? Do you seem to lean toward the Prohibition Era? Ancient Egypt? Allow the thoughts, images, or feelings to come through…acknowledge them, then send some positive energy back to them. Positive energy permeates all Time, and, therefore, can change the past or the future…and make life a little better for everyone.

Henry Hill (I believe), Manassas Battlefield, VA (April 22, 1990)
Henry Hill (I believe), Manassas Battlefield, VA (April 22, 1990)

All photos are my own, taken April 22, 1990, and scanned into digital format.

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One Painting…Two Dogs

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Just Checking In To Say "Hi!" (Artwork by Rémi Jouandet [see page for license], via Wikimedia Commons)
Just Checking In To Say “Hi!” (Artwork by Rémi Jouandet [see page for license], via Wikimedia Commons)
Early into our vacation, like a day or so, something really weird happened.

Note: I’m going to respect my folks’ privacy and only tell the minimum of specific names and such.

While my dad was watching TV and his dog, Boomer (name has been changed for privacy), was lying on the floor by his side, I was in the kitchen, doing something that most probably involved food, when I heard a bark—then my dad calling me over.

When I get into the living room, my dad tells me that Boomer was just lying quietly on the floor, when he all of a sudden went upright…and stared at this painting that was on the living-room wall. Barked at it. When I came in, Boomer was no-kidding-up-on-the-couch with his forepaws, back straight as an arrow, nose angled directly into the painting. He was very agitated, did those doggy “whiny sounds,” and may have again barked. But, both my dad and I looked to each other (definitely amused…highly curious)…and to Boomer…and the painting.

What the hell?

Preserving the privacy of this artwork, all I’m going to say is that in the painting (that had been up on the wall for a while, maybe towards a year?), two dogs are depicted: Boomer, and another, Rin Tin (again, not its real name).

Rin Tin is deceased.

Boomer remained agitated and brought his nose right up to the painting, less than an inch away from it, again, his whole body straight as an arrow. I put one hand to the painting’s frame, while holding the other nearby Boomer’s face, in case he decided to lunge and/or bite at the frame or painting. Dad and I are chuckling and wondering what the heck was going on, when Boomer did the weirdest thing:

He stuck his nose directly to the depiction of Rin Tin, sniffed it for a second or two…then abruptly departed.

That was it.

He jumped off of the couch and came to us as if nothing had happened.

Dad and I are laughing and looking to ourselves, totally baffled (well, truth be told, I had an idea). For the rest of our near week and a half there, Boomer never paid anymore attention to Rin Tin’s painted image.

Okay, you know I’m about to get kinda weird, here, but here’s what I believe happened:

Rin Tin was my folks’ previous dog and had to be put to sleep (turns out we were there, visiting, my wife and I, and one of my brothers, Chris). I love animals, and am particularly fond of dogs. I miss Rin Tin, and the day we arrived on the current vacation two weeks ago, I was actually wondering if Rin Tin might make, well, an appearance, now that I was here. Rin Tin’s cremains are in an “urn” my dad made (which was what I’d seen that first day and got me to thinking about all this), and I made a point to go to it a couple times while there, and “reach out” to Rin Tin. After all, I reasoned, I had a really cool experience with my last dog, Mac, and wondered if I would have a similar experience with Rin Tin.

I really believe that Rin Tin had reached out to us to let us know she was there…and was just saying “Hi.” I had lots of fun with her. I just have a way with dogs…and dogs generally like (okay, love) me. And I couldn’t be there when she was actually put down. I feel this was her way of saying “hello” one more time to dad and me…meeting the “new fur”…letting us know that she’s still “around.” The only ones in the area were my dad, Boomer, and me.

That painting had been up on the wall for a long time, and Boomer had never reacted to it at all. What the heck else could it have been? What the heck could have possibly caused a dog to behave that way? He went right to Rin Tin’s image, not his own.

I was right there, with Boomer, at the painting when it happened, saw exactly where Boomer’s nose went—it was directly and unhesitatingly to Rin Tin’s image, not concerned with his own image at all. I’ve seen dogs bark at the TV, but never a static image like that, especially when the image had been around in the dog’s presence for a while, with no prior reaction to it.

It truly ranks as one of the weirdest things I’ve ever witnessed!

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