Visions


I realise that despite having mentioned it a couple of times, I’ve never said much on this blog about the sort of visions that I get periodically. The two most overwhelming ones (August 1990 and May 1995) were sudden, dramatic and life-changing, but they are not very typical. Much more typical is something less dramatic and conclusive, which often recur. They are more like a type of daydream, distinguished from such simply by the sense of being ‘gripped’, with a strong sense of being ‘present’ in them (as opposed to a more abstract musing and free-association, which I also do quite a lot of). As I’ve said before, I have not as yet set much store by these visions. I find them helpful for reflection in terms of my own spiritual journey but I don’t see them as having any particular bearing outside of my own soul.

Anyhow, some examples.

Throughout the 1990’s I had a recurring vision of being in the presence of Christ but wholly unable to look at him; I was simply grovelling on the floor and only able to look at his feet. As time went on it became much clearer to me that it wasn’t Jesus preventing me from looking up, it was myself. (I sometimes wonder if these began before or after I watched Bad Lieutenant which has a very similar scene in it.)

One from the late 1990’s: being on the seabed and chained down like an anchor, there is an earthquake and I become a bubble starting a journey to the surface.

One from a guided meditation at Westcott (this one hasn’t repeated in the same sort of way as the others, but I have been able to remember it clearly. I think this experience is one of the main reasons why I haven’t cultivated this aspect of my personality!!): I was with Jesus in a kitchen where there was a table; in the table was a drawer; we were encouraged to open the drawer and take out what was in it and give it to Jesus. I took out a kitchen knife and stabbed Jesus repeatedly with it.

One from my retreat last November: standing before a small waterfall which was in the middle of a church aisle; I was on one side, Jesus was on the other, and for the first time I could look at his face, although I couldn’t see it clearly. The sense was of having got much closer to him but of there still being this screen between us.

As you can see, not something which I ever thought would have much interest for other people, but it’s a facet of my life which I’m pretty sure is going to become more prominent as time goes on.