Déjà Vu … All Over Again

Halloween is almost here. Let’s have a mystifying story.

For as long as I can remember, I have had a recurring dream that is both distressing and awe-inspiring. At first I believed it originated from my childhood adventures in Sunland. My friends and I spent most of our days off from school exploring the wash and climbing the hills nearby. Later I came to wonder if it was something else entirely.

My dream begins with a small group of kids heading out for a hike. There are five of us and we are around 10 years old. We are going to a place we have visited many times, a sacred site on the other side of the mountain. Our destination is the most beautiful landscape we have ever seen. Sweeping vistas overlooking rich red earth that is scattered with brown rocks, yellow grass and green trees. The brilliant blue and white sky adds to the intense color palette, and we stand in the warm sun to take it all in. From the location on the plateau you can see for miles around. There are remnants of a civilization that once lived there and it is understood by all that we must be respectful of the space and speak softly.

We are eager to get started exploring but there is just one catch. To get to the other side of the mountain there is only one very dark and narrow passageway at its base. It is just wide enough for a child to fit in while lying down, with arms alongside or above the head. Movement through the hole is achieved by writhing the body like an inchworm or fingering the rough sides and pulling forward.

We all line up single file and cautiously enter – me in the middle of the group. I get part way in with a couple of people in front of me and a couple behind. I can no longer see daylight from either end of the tunnel because my friends are now blocking it. My heart starts to pound in my chest as I feel the panic of claustrophobia rising, realizing I am trapped between bodies. What if we get stuck? After what feels like an eternity, my friends move out, I can see daylight again and I emerge onto the ground. I catch my breath and take in the amazing view.

We spend some time looking around for ancient burial grounds and artifacts, though we know better than to disturb either. We discover stone walls and an old meeting place then descend the dirt steps down into the hollowed out circular area. I can feel the temperature drop and the rough adobe walls. I can see the dust rising from our footsteps. It seems so real – like I am there. When the sun starts to move to the horizon we know it is time to go home. We turn to leave and my heart drops as I realize I have to go back into the hole.

Then I wake up.

In 2011, I took a trip to Rowe, New Mexico to visit my dad who had recently moved there. I had never been. He was excited to show me the sights which included a day trip to Pecos, a town located nearby with a rich history. We stopped at Pecos National Historical Park and walked the grounds. I was thrilled by the natural beauty and the vibrant colors of the landscape. It was almost as if I could feel the presence of those who had previously lived there. We hiked up a rise where we had 360-degree views for miles, then I stopped dead in my tracks. It was the same exact view from my dreams. Whoa. As we continued, we saw rock walls and entered a kiva, a meeting place. I reached out and felt the wall. Yep, the same as in my dreams. Déjà vu – times a hundred! There was no question – I had been there before.

I never had the dream after that.

Susan Bolan
susanbolan710@gmail.com