Dream and Stones
A dream of a vocation?
Several weeks before having this dream, I was watching a television programme which turned me upside down. One saw the exploitation of diamonds in Australia, amongst the most profitable in the world. One doesn't find an enormous quantity of diamonds per cubic meter, but they are large and of very fine quality. Then one sees by helicopter, a superb mountain, very round, covered in trees and vegetation, the most ancient in the world, sacred among the most sacred of the Aborigines, to which come only the initiated for practices of power, which are transmitted in a dreams. In the dream, they meet the entities connected to certain crossroads, and these entities are connected to water, to the elements connected to the survival of the earth and the spiritual life, and in this way to the many treasures to be found underground. No one else is allowed to go there for any other reason, only for the study of power.
One sees this superb mountain, witness to the first ages of our earth, and as the helicopter circles it one discovers hell on the other side - the entrails of the mountain in the air, a third of the mountain missing, and next, the immense machines and lorries bustling about to the rhythm of gigantic explosions, everything encircled in barbed wire.
Only one employée is an Aborigine, doing the most menial tasks and seemingly lobotomised and ashamed at the same time. The others wouldn't dare work there and most probably have never been asked to.
Then there is an Australian, wearing a bush hat and chaps, who is being interviewed, as superficially as possible, to finish this sinister picture.
So here is my dream. I think I was in Syria, working, but I'm not at all sure. It's at least two, three maybe five years before I started working with stones (I started in 1997).
The dream starts with the magnificent flight of three eagles in the desert. My parents and I are in the air, and I remember the sensation of the wind in my wings and our delicate movements to change our trajectories.
Reaching the top of rocky mountains, lifting one wing towards the sky, we wheel around just until we rest not far from a red rock, where we again take human form.
It resembles the mountains of Petra, in the Jordanian desert, with the aspect of canyons and piled rocks, like the United States or Mexico.
Seen from the ground, certain piles are composed of rocks more round and smooth, an opaque yellow-green, a bit like amazonite but sometimes more yellow. It was strange and I was at once taken by the rocks, a bit astounded. It seemed they were giving a specific trait to the place, and the city that was not far away, more of a village, had a relation to these stones. As we went around this place, which resembled an ancient town, my parents lost a bit of their presence, but everything else stayed as it was. The people wore turbans and there were camels.
We passed near an arena and through the door we could see a camel inside, and just beyond was the beginning of the boutiques.
We entered one of them, which sold stones like the ones which I remarked on upon arriving, but less opaque. They were in sacks as high as my waist. I looked around, when a man from the boutique came to me and said "Here, this is what you should look at" (I don't recall exactly).
I opened my hand and he put a small triangular stone into it, all rounded off all round, the same as the others, but of a very different quality, that is to say, much less opaque or not opaque at all. I didn't have time to really look at it, because the moment it touched my open palm, a violent pain seized my stomach, like a punch but from within, and at the same time in my mind I saw an image of the explosion of the sacred mountain, just like the one in the movie. I fell to my knees and my body fell forward. I left the dream hunched-up, on the floor of the boutique, and when I awoke, the resonance of an explosion echoed from the pain in my abdomen...
That pain didn't leave me for years.
Without being intrigued by the events of that dream, I have, however, been strongly marked by this experience, and it left me with a bad taste regarding the way in which business was done. Little by little, I entered the world of the sale of stones, just to its heart, la Place Vendôme. The tension between what I was doing and what I knew because of this dream ended the day I understood its message.
It has only been today, this day in March 2006, that the pain in my stomach has been entirely stamped out.
Due to the help of a friend who served as the catalyst for my ability to express this, and a friend who restored my heart with a drop of his healing gentleness, an artisan from Mérite & Patience finally knows a touch of serenity, and can now consecrate himself to serve the Earth and praise his creator, Heaven.