Premonition of Civil War

"Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions."

~ Edgar Cayce

I know it's been a while since my last post, but I felt this warranted one. A strange dream I had last night, or perhaps a premonition of things to come?

It's a little after 2 AM as I write this. I had a dream just now in which I voluntarily took a job as a citizen bodyguard - possibly for some non-partisan group - and was tasked with holding up transparent riot shields to guard certain politicians, their escorts, and other VIPs who were in danger of being targeted for assassination as they traveled around making public appearances.

The person I was assigned to guard in this particular case was Kamala Harris of all people and, in the dream, I accepted this duty without question or hesitation, as though it was just expected and normal (sort of what I imagine Secret Service feels). This despite me being a staunch and vocal opponent of hers in real life - my issues with her being mostly of a socio-political nature, of her as a bad actor in the culture war, though I have no real gripe with her as a fellow human being outside that context and I personally wish her no harm or ill-will.

As I often say: I may disagree with you, but I'm not against you.

Not in this case, at least.

Anyways, me and some other people, including one black cop I knew in the dream (who looked like the detective from Elementary) stood behind or alongside our clients as they indeed were about to make very public speeches at a table before some press conference at some town hall building with offices and giant stone columns in an Enlightenment-era style of architecture. Those classical columns like you see on many a courthouse, for instance.

I took up my position squatting down behind the table (for my own protection) just behind and to the right of Kamala where she sat in the middle. Our team was few in numbers. Only about three or four guardians for as many VIPs. The clear riot shield I had wasn’t big enough to provide total cover, or even to connect with the others in a chain, so I just sort of held it up on the table in front of Harris where I thought made the most sense to cover as much of her as I could from straight ahead. Though, cynically, nothing would really stop a true die-hard from coming at her at an angle from either side.

Perhaps this is meant to be a metaphor that the powers that be and the public alike both have nothing to fear from the moderate center, so much as radicals from the extreme left and extreme right?

It was nighttime in the dream. I know, because the sky was pitch black.

Not moments after we sat down, and before the speakers even began, all chaos broke out outside with someone saying anarchists were indeed here to kill them - meaning our clients - and were making an attempt on them right now. Our team got up, formed a mini phalanx, and moved to escort our charges down the hall and out of the building before anything happened.

A couple shots were fired. At least one hit our shields. To our right, people were screaming and fleeing. To our left, I could see violence and rioting in the streets by way of an open window. Someone - presumably cops - fired back and put someone down, all of this happening too quickly for our team to really take in the details; and it appeared that there were also people - either cops or those dressed as them - among the attackers as well. The decision was made for our entourage to duck into a small, well-lit office and all hide in the corner next to a tall bookshelf until things blew over, since it was easier to stand guard there.

Some police in full SWAT gear stood near us in the middle of the room, protecting the only door in or out.

I stood in the corner with the others - out in front of our group of about four to six of us - the black cop now guarding Kamala and me standing directly in front of this really tall blonde woman. I held up my riot shield to cover our torsos and heads, leaving our legs fully exposed because the shield wasn't big enough to cover us entirely.

An acceptable risk, given the circumstances.

Not moments after we took up our positions, a savage-looking white man with a militaristic brunette haircut stood in the doorway and exchanged gunfire with our group. The attacker was also dressed in full SWAT regalia, though he was decidedly NOT a white supremacist or cop. I’m not sure how I know that beyond “dream logic.”

Our cops took aim and hit his body armor. He apparently fired at least two shots into my riot shield, which I could tell because they had lodged themselves deeply into it and there was blood around the impact points. I got knocked around and rattled a bit but otherwise held my ground dutifully, and then the man’s head just suddenly flung violently back whereupon he dropped to the floor.

Apparently, upon initial investigation, it seemed the bullets ricocheted off my shield and hit him, killing him almost instantly, and to everyone’s sudden surprise, including my own. The SWAT cops moved in to clear the scene and I could feel a welling terror rising in me as I turned to see that the tall blonde woman I was meant to be protecting had gotten shot in the head as well, perhaps from a stray bullet as my shield got knocked back at an angle.

I don’t know where the bloody bullets in the shield came from - I assumed from her, even though that doesn’t make total sense. Again, dream logic.

Kamala and everyone else on our side were fine, including me, but I was awoken from the dream before this woman’s body even hit the floor. I got the feeling that this was likely the beginning of some sort of civil war in which there were violent anarchists on one side and law and order people on the other, and one of the tactics of the rebels was to dress up like us in order to more-easily infiltrate our ranks and sow dissension and mistrust of our allies ... although I also couldn’t shake the feeling there were likewise some real cops on the force who wanted them dead as well.

The one in my dream was more of a false flagger, but I could sense in the wider context there were people on all sides who were out for blood. Something, something Tree of Liberty ...

It’s about 3:30 AM now and I just wanted to set this down while the details were still fresh. I’m still not entirely sure what this dream means, but it can’t portend anything good for the future, I imagine.

At this time, I don’t really know who this blonde woman is meant to represent.

The image I used for this article is entitled: Soft Construction with Boiled Beans (Premonition of Civil War) by Salvador Dali. If you know anything about Dali and surrealism, you'll know it draws heavily on symbols from dreams. Dali painted it six months prior to the Spanish Civil War as a depiction of the horrors of that conflict and cited "the prophetic power of his subconscious mind" as the force behind the painting.

Dali and his wife were forced to leave Spain during the time of the conflict, and he returned years later to find his home had been destroyed in the conflict.

As an artist and a mystic, this resonates with me as well. I'm far from the only person whose hackles have been raised by current events in America and who's been weighing their options - to fight or flee or hide or just keep your head down until things blow over. Though, in my case, I'd been considering that since at least the Bush years and it was only in the last few years - since Trump took office - that I've finally been able to breathe a sigh of relief and actually be proud of my country for the first time in my life.

However, it's becoming more and more clear that no matter who wins the 2020 election, there will be blood in the streets beyond what we've already witnessed, and the likes of which we've not witnessed in many decades. Perhaps worse than the Civil Rights Era. Perhaps worse than the American Civil War of the mid-1800s if you factor in technological advances and the religious zeal with which people wield their ideologies.

In terms of role-playing, I’m a druid class and a Seer of Life, and I usually lean into that role, half-seriously, half for fun; but this is no laughing matter, and I very much see bloody civil war in America’s future and the teams won’t be so clear-cut and dry this time as they were in the last one.

Who we call friend or enemy will rapidly change in the coming years.

If this dream means anything, I think it's a reminder that war makes strange bedfellows, and we should be mindful that good and evil lives in the hearts of everyone. No one has a monopoly on virtue or vice. All the more reason to strive to see the best in our fellow humans. To always seek the high ground, and to try and get ahead of this and heal the division in our world.

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