Another dreams came and she wrote it down.
As I remember the dream,women named Fani and I were climbing a steep hill, as steep as the one leading to old men's place up the hill. Snow covered the ground, and a narrow path for cars wound upwards. Our car was a small, old, red wreck, barely more than a fragile shell. There was an unspoken worry about whether we would reach the top.
When we finally arrived, it was near a small town, lit and decorated like Christmas, with tiny shops lining the right edge of the street. I had to stay inside the car. The space around me began to shrink, the car feeling smaller and tighter.
Suddenly, a strange old man appeared, a suspicious-looking wanderer. Fear rose inside me as I noticed him climbing into the driver's seat and driving away without a word. I screamed at him, "Where are you taking me? What is happening?" but he stayed silent, steering us into dark, narrow streets.
Looking closely, I realized the man's appearance had changed—he now looked like Jesus, glowing with an aura like Michael's, the angel I had seen in previous dreams. He looked at me and warned, "Do not go into the dark corners. Stay in the light."
We held hands and almost ran through the streets that resembled ancient Roman roads. The darkness deepened and grew, swallowing all the bright corners. As we reached a small square, people were gathered around fires, trying to keep the light alive.
I saw a child step into the fire, and in horror, I screamed. Suddenly, a light burst from me, shining bright and pushing back the darkness. The old man, Jesus or Michael, touched my shoulder and said gently, "It is alright. You have done what you needed to do. You saved what could be saved."
Though the fear still clung to me, and tears streamed down my face for the child lost to the flames, we had conquered the darkness.
---
I am not sure how to fully interpret these dreams, but perhaps they suggest that we should never judge a person by their appearance. Even in darkness, we have the power to save ourselves, especially when we give a part of ourselves for the greater good.
It might also symbolize letting go of the child within us for the sake of others or the public. Yet, spiritual teachers often say it's important to nurture and study our inner child, as that understanding is vital for our growth.
---
Another dream came and she too wrote this down.
She was having lunch in silence with a young man at the table. He had curly hair and a kind, gentle face that gave her a small sense of comfort amid the quiet. Nearby, an old, sick man named Jože lay weakly in bed, murmuring words that barely formed coherent sounds. From his whispered words, strange objects began to glow with a dark violet light. The violet glow thickened and darkened until from the floor rose a shadowy, deep purple figure, a demon.
The young man at the table suddenly stood up. In his hands appeared a whip woven from flickering flames. With fierce determination, he swung the fiery whip toward the demon.
She instinctively reached out and held onto his shoulder, standing just behind him. She felt the strength and steadiness of his grip, as if anchored to protect her.
The demon hissed, "Who are you? What will you do to me?"
After the young man struck the demon three times with the fiery whip, the demon's voice changed, no longer defiant but fearful. It whispered a name: "Michael."
He struck the demon several more times with the fiery whip, each blow forcing the shadowy figure to shrink until it finally vanished.
Overwhelmed by fear and relief, she wept into Michael's shoulder. Then, slowly, she awoke.
Lying in the quiet morning light, she tried to understand the meaning of the dream. Who was this Michael? Was he some kind of protector sent to guard her from darkness? The image of the fiery whip and his steady strength stayed with her, a sign that even in her most vulnerable moments, she was not alone.
Questions stirred within her mind, but a quiet reassurance settled in her heart. Perhaps Michael was a guardian figure, watching over her in ways she had yet to fully comprehend.
Asiola settled down quietly, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. Her mind buzzed with questions. Could she really reach out to Michael? Was this connection possible? With a steadying breath, she let go of doubt and opened her heart, ready to begin the meditation and invite his presence into her world.
She found her answer and wrote it down.
Guided Meditation to Connect with Angel Michael and Protection:
Find a comfortable seat. Sit tall but relaxed.
Take a deep breath in... and slowly exhale.
Allow your body to soften, your mind to quiet.
Close your eyes gently.
Begin to focus on your breathing,
inhaling calmness,
exhaling tension.
Feel yourself settling deeper with each breath,
inviting peace and stillness within.
Now, in your mind's eye, imagine a radiant sphere of pure white light forming above your head.
See it slowly descending, enveloping you from head to toe,
surrounding you in a cocoon of gentle, protective energy.
As this light surrounds you, silently repeat or hold this intention in your heart:
"Divine Angel Michael and all sacred helpers,
surround me now with your radiant white light,
filling me with protection, love, peace, and healing.
Keep me safe from all darkness or harm.
Expand this light to fill the space around me,
radiating unconditional love to all."
Feel this light grow brighter, stronger,
expanding beyond your body into the space you occupy.
Sense the presence of loving guides walking with you,
offering support and strength in all that you do.
Allow yourself to rest here in this light, in this presence.
Breathe deeply and trust that you are held, protected, and loved.
When you feel ready, gently bring your awareness back to your breath.
Slowly open your eyes, carrying this peace with you into the rest of your day.
As soon as Asiola began to meditate, she pictured the orb of white light enveloping her body. A deep sense of safety washed over her. She sensed the need for protection keenly and, to her surprise, felt the warm embrace of golden wings wrapping gently around her. Was this truly the presence of Michael shielding her? When she finally opened her eyes, her mind was clear and refreshed, as if a heavy fog had lifted. Even when those around her fell into bad moods, she found herself able to remain calm for longer stretches. What kind of new experience was this? Slowly, she wove this protective light into her daily meditation practice—surrounding herself with its glow before moving on to other meditations, whether her own or those discovered in books.
A few nights later, as Asiola drifted into sleep, she found herself once again in the realm of dreams. This time, she was seated in a space that resembled a dimly lit cave, its walls rough and enclosing, yet strangely comforting. Across from her sat a figure, calmly watching her with a gentle smile. He wore a short tunic, reminiscent of ancient Greek style, its fabric black as midnight. His youthful face held an enigmatic calmness, framed by black curls that were swept back just past his shoulders, not too short, not quite long.
Asiola's curiosity stirred, and she asked softly, "Who are you?"
The figure's smile deepened. "My name is Ramiel."
Suddenly, black wings unfurled behind him, shifting slowly with dark grace. Asiola sat frozen, both stunned and awed by the sight. The contrast was striking, the beauty of the angel in the shadowed cave. Ramiel's voice echoed gently, "If you wish, I can grant you wings."
Before she could respond, a familiar presence appeared beside her, Angel Michael. His gaze met Ramiel's with quiet recognition, no hint of hostility or challenge. The serene power radiating from Michael seemed to calm the very air around them.
Asiola shook her head softly and said with quiet resolve, "No. I do not need them."
Michael stepped closer and placed a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. Behind him, his magnificent white wings shimmered faintly with a touch of golden light, folded neatly and regal.
"You did well," Michael said simply.
Then the dream faded, and Asiola awoke, her heart pounding with surprise. Why had Michael appeared to her again? What message was woven into these nocturnal visits? The questions lingered as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, feeling the weight of the dream's meaning pressing gently upon her soul.
The following days, Asiola found herself restless, her thoughts circling back to the dream. She couldn't shake the image of Ramiel's dark wings or the calm power in Michael's golden presence. Needing answers, she turned to the books she had collected over the years, spiritual texts, angelic dictionaries, old esoteric writings passed from hand to hand. She flipped through worn pages and scanned old symbols, hoping to find something, anything, that would match what she had seen.
But the results were disappointing.
Mentions of Michael were vague, often tied to religious archetypes or warlike imagery. Ramiel appeared only in fragments, sometimes as a watcher, sometimes as an angel of hope or thunder. No book described them as she had seen them. The details were different, inconsistent. Some spoke of golden armor, others of swords and scrolls. None mentioned the cave, the black wings, or the silent offer of transformation.
She began to wonder. Do we each see them differently? Through our own eyes? Through our own path and understanding?
The lack of clarity only deepened her need to understand. Words on a page were not enough.
And so, she returned to meditation.
Each time she sat down, she carried a quiet question into the stillness: Will they come again? Will they show me more? Was it real?
The space within her began to feel like a threshold, like the quiet between calls, waiting, listening. Though no vision returned right away, a part of her knew: if the angels chose to appear again, it would not be because she demanded it, but because she was ready.
And so, she breathed. And waited.