The Concept of Aerial Toll Houses (Gnosis, or the Heart of an Angel. Part one. Chapter 29)
Summer 2015: My Mother’s Illness
In the spring, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. The severity of the situation was kept from me to avoid causing me worry. One night, I had a particularly telling dream:
My mother and I were in a building, the entire floor of which was covered with venomous snakes. My brother, wearing special boots, seemed fearless around these creatures. I attempted to hover above the snakes, doing my best not to fall among them, but I felt my strength diminishing, and inevitably, I landed in the midst of them. Meanwhile, my mother sat there, busily sewing boots for me. She was seemingly oblivious to the dangers around her and made no effort to avoid the snakes. I chastised her for not taking more care for her own safety while trying to protect us. Suddenly, one of the snakes bit into her leg. Filled with fear, I knew the bite could be fatal. But my mother simply laid her hand on me, downplaying the situation, saying, ‘It’s nothing, it’ll pass,’ and she continued sewing. Then, I noticed a protective amulet hanging on her back, something that had been her safeguard for all her life. The amulet was broken! Next, a path appeared in my dream, and a cart was on the path. Inside the cart sat Jesus and the Virgin Mary, with my mother seated in between them, her back to me. The cart slowly drifted away, obscuring my view.
Upon awakening, I had a dreadful realization — my mother wouldn’t recover…
August 2015: A Warning of Future Challenges
In my dream, an unseen force grabs me and lifts me up into the sky. As I approach the clouds, I hear a voice reassuringly say:
- Don’t be afraid, nothing terrible will happen!
Autumn 2015: Tbilisi — The Passing of My Mother and the Concept of Aerial Toll Houses
In October, my mother succumbed to complications from chemotherapy. By this time, my own health had deteriorated significantly. Severe weakness in my legs made walking a challenge, and every movement required a tremendous effort. My heart was under strain, and breathing was difficult. The distress associated with my mother’s passing further exacerbated my condition.
I remember spending the initial days after her death at my parents’ home. Before forty days had passed, I experienced two poignant dreams:
In the first dream, I found myself entering an old apartment in Sololaki. My mother was alone in a small, dark bedroom — a room she’d always disliked due to its lack of light and cramped conditions. The apartment was empty and dim, imbued with the somber mood of the 90s. She lay there, aged, grey, alone, and forgotten, swathed in several blankets in an attempt to stay warm.
- I want you to leave this place, — I said.
- You all want me to leave! You don’t love me! — she retorted angrily.
- You need to go with Christ, — I insisted, before waking up.
The second dream unfolded differently:
We were in a large, bright house surrounded by a verdant landscape of trees and flowers. My mother was in the kitchen, young and beautiful, bustling about. The kitchen had large, bright windows, just as she had always dreamed of. The house was full of guests, many of whom seemed to be my mother’s relatives. My mother was lively and jovial. She wore an apron and was pulling a freshly baked cake from the oven. The scent of the cake mingled with the warm, comforting ambiance of family. Yet, for reasons unknown, I found myself saying to her:
- You must leave this place as well…
My mother seemed to ignore my words, focusing on her task at hand.
- You need to go with Jesus. Everything that has ever been, will be, or could be, exists there.
I woke up puzzling over that phrase. It was a type of thought I’d never had before, not even in a dream. I only understood that after the death of the physical body, a person’s consciousness changes. It can fall into illusory traps caused by deep-seated fears or unfulfilled desires — both of which tether the individual to the earthly world with unseen bonds.
