In 1990, I experienced a mystic dream that forever altered the course of my life. At the time, I was an intuitive counselor, aromatherapist, and guide for sacred site adventure pilgrimages, leading women to swim with dolphins. Though I found joy in my work, I felt an unmistakable sense that something was missing. I had yet to uncover the true depth and breadth of my calling.

In my search for clarity, I began to pray for guidance. My prayers were answered in the form of a lucid dream—a dream so profound it shifted my path entirely. There are moments in life when, in seeking guidance, the divine reaches out to take our hand and lead us into grace. This dream was one of those rare and transformative moments. Now, thirty-five years later, its wisdom and impact remain vivid and alive within me, continuing to inspire the unfolding of that vision into reality.

We are all deeply intuitive, each of us receiving our gifts in unique ways. My gift has always been as a psychic visionary with a natural capacity for lucid dreaming. That particular vision is as vibrant within me today as it was when it first occurred, a guiding light that continues to shape my journey.

The dream began with a rhythmic chant that seemed to wake me up, but as I opened my eyes and my vision cleared, I was vaguely aware that I was in another time and place. I stood transfixed, my heart pounding in my breast, as I looked up at a crimson sky that hovered like a lid above tall canyon walls that seemed to go on forever. A throng of women pressed in all around me. As they raised their voices together, I began to sway and step forward, chanting words of power that echoed off the canyon walls, filling the valley with a familiar, primitive sound. There were hundreds of them dressed in white tunics trimmed with luminous cobalt blue. I was one of them. I felt my feet on the sand, walking rhythmically down the path into a valley.

Blazing heat beat down on us, even as the sun began to sink past the high rock walls. The jutting stones seemed to shimmer in the waves of heat so that they blurred. As I continued to walk, my body filled with vibrating sounds, and my thoughts became confused. How could this be? What was I doing here in the desert, and who were these people? I was supposed to be getting ready for work, wasn't I? Yes, I had clients to see today, and the car had to go to the shop. My husband and I were going to...

Suddenly, I became aware that I was dreaming! This awareness brought complete lucidity--I was myself, Diana DuBrow, inside this dream. I looked at my hands and felt my face; flesh, bone, density. I relaxed and surrendered to the mystical experience. I was conscious that I was being moved by an unseen hand. I began to look around me in amazement. Yes, my vision was clearing, my mind seemed to be with me now. I know who I am, I told myself. Don’t panic; you can always wake up…A woman brushed up against me as we walked the crowded path.

“Where are we going?” I asked her, amazed at the resonance of my voice. “The Emerald Temple in the valley of endless possibilities, Diana. Come.”

She moved ahead of me, and I followed, passing through a large hole in what seemed like a giant barrier of stone. We moved through a dimly lit passage, torches burning on the walls. As we came to the end of the tunnel and stepped outside again, I gasped in awe. In the center of a great, green valley was a pyramid several hundred feet high with ancient symbols etched in the walls shimmering like gold. Hundreds of steps led to the top, and in the center was a pillared stage. The flames from a fire brassiere rose from the center, and even from this distance, I could see and feel the power emanating through the illuminated figure of the Lady standing beside it.

As my gaze became accustomed to the light I saw that there were hundreds of white robbed priestesses that were preparing for a ritual. They were in groups of three, forming a trifecta of energy between them. One priestess lay on her back on the wide steps with a priestess who sat at her head as the guardian of her crown chakra. I heard the words, She is holding the energy of the KA body, and I suddenly was aware that what I was witnessing was an ancient Myrrhophore anointing ceremony. Next to her was a huge alabaster jar filled with holy anointing oils. At her feet was the priestess who was the anointer and through the holy oils would begin to awaken the 9 seals or gateways inside the body. I watched transfixed as I heard the deep sounds of ethereal music in the background that they moved with in perfect synchronicity. The anointer took the dipper from the alabaster jar and poured the holy oils into the hands of the Keeper of the Crown Chakra and she began to wave her hands in front of the anointed ones nose. I watched her body as she took a deep inhale in and dropped down into a deeper state of peace. Then the Keeper placed the holy oils on her third eye between her brows and continued down her throat and on to her heart. While this was happening the anointer at her feet began placing the holy oils on the soles of her feet and began moving up her legs to the back of her knees, holding the energy points between the two activation points. I was mesmerized, and a “Remembrance” was beginning to stir inside me. This was not only familiar but a sacred anointing dance that I recognized from another time and place.

“Come, Diana, she waits for you,” said the woman before me, gently grasping my hand and pulling me forward.

“Yes,” I answered, my heart beating fast as we moved towards the long flight of steps carved out of stone.

As we began to climb them, she stopped, bowed down on her knees, and prayed in unison with the others.

“I bow to the divinity within me…” they all chanted.

My body kneeled without hesitation. With my knees on the stone, my hands began to move into gestures of power, mudras I had seen in pictures of Mother Mary and Christ, God and Goddess, and the Buddhas of India and Tibet. Yes, they were familiar positions, as were the words that passed from my lips.

“I will honor and obey all that I AM. I will serve in the name of love…”

I chanted with the others, rising to the next step, kneeling, rising, and kneeling until my body filled with an ecstasy that consumed my flesh. When I finally stood on the great landing, I swayed in the current of power. I was losing touch with the world I called “real.” This was real. This place, these people, this moment. All around me were my sisters and priestesses in concentric circles around the fire. The sun was gone, and in its place, the full, white moon shone down upon us. It was night, the time of feminine power. The high priestess stood across from me, her crimson robes alive in the light of the fire. She reached her arms to the moon, hands trembling as the power moved through them. As the priestess continued to chant and then some began to sing, the Lady let out a long, high note that seemed to enfold us, the fire, the pyramid, the valley, and the earth in a ray of white moonlight. I knew what she was doing. I had seen it before, hadn’t I?

“I call down the moon!” She cried out then, sending a chill through me. “We honor the divine feminine in all her forms!” Then she was calling out names, starting with the oldest face of the Goddess, “Sophia!” she cried, “Inanna, Isis, Hathor, Astarte, Tara, Pele, Oya, Quan Yin, Hecate, Demeter, Athena, Aphrodite, Bridget, Mary, White Buffalo Woman…”

When she was done, we stood in silence. I was vaguely aware of the crackling of the flames, and then the Lady’s hand outstretched to me. “Come, daughter,” she said, her voice warm and familiar. I moved to her, falling at her feet, tears welling in my chest as I looked into her face. Her eyes were deep-set and well known to me. Leaning down, I kissed the hem of her robe, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“Lady,” I whispered, trembling. I felt her hands then, on my shoulders, lifting me up.

“No,” she said, “We will bow to each other.”

She bowed low before me, and when she stood, she leaned close and kissed me on the forehead. I began to swoon. A pulse broke loose on my forehead and began to throb, as if my skin were opening and I was about to see through my third eye. Then there were the scents of frankincense, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, and blue lotus, pulling me back, down inside myself. Two priestesses came to her sides, holding alabaster jars. They poured the oils into her cupped hands and bowed as she raised them to the moon again. My head pounded, eyes blurred, but the scent filled me. I heard her say the words, but it was difficult to see,

“May the priestess remember,” she cried, “and may she call her daughters home!”

My body seemed to spasm—the scents were pouring over me, and the top of my head was opening to sound and light. I heard her voice again from far away.

“May the priestess remember, and may she call her daughters home!”