u/Master_Ari

I have a fairly good sense of interpretation, and I have “diagnosed” my dreams myself. But I am still left with curiosity.

So I thought I would share them here.

Warning - this is a bit of a dumb and a long read. I am hoping someone will read it, though. I have a hunger for the viewpoint of others that needs to be sated.

1st and oldest -

I was living in the realm of the gods as a human.

In my dream the Gods were more fair and honest than any other human I have ever met. The sense of community and family was strong there. In this dream humans were not separated from the Gods. We lived in the same realm. But I was never around other humans myself. I considered myself to belong among the Gods because they just understood me better.

It was my home that I loved.

But then the humans became greedy. They wanted more power, and started to demand things from the Gods. When they were told no they wouldn’t back down and declares war. They would just take what they wanted.

So the Gods decided to cast man back down to earth…and I had to go with them.

It wasn’t fair, and I adamantly refused. I pleaded with them. “This is my home!! You have no right to send me away!” Zeus was my best friend in that dream, and he put a hand on my shoulder with this look of sorrow. The law was the law. All humans had to leave. Even though I had proven I was trustworthy, because I was human I had to leave with my own kind.

I was consumed with rage.

I ended up on a ship with other soldiers fighting through a storm to lead them where they could strike the weaker points of the veil. I used my knowledge, what little integration of their world I was able to learn for myself, and my skills to help them fight the Gods. In my mind, if I helped them win, then they would have to let me back home.

Of course we failed. I was captured and brought to trial. The court room was underground beneath a huge tree. It was as if nature became the architect of wood, vines and stone. The walls were made of woven roots and stone, with stone pillars carved with faces, and the floor was uneven stone with intricate runes decorating it.

It was a place used for serious events and worship.

I was brought before the council and they declared my fate to be death. (Warning here. Graphic details approaching. I died.)

Zeus stood before me with his sword and said with remorse. “Close your eyes. I will make it painless.”

I did. And then I felt his sword cut through my neck. My head fell off and I remained standing. The dream began to fade like a melted painting.

Then - this never happens - I became aware I was dreaming. But in that moment, even though I was now awake, I was still angry. Still hurt. And I refused the wake up call.

I forced myself to stay. And when I remained and the dream became clear again there was a look of pride on his face. The entire chamber began to buzz with surprise and alarm. There was nothing more they could do. I took my punishment and lived.

I still had no head. As I pulled myself back into the dream I became aware that I could not only see, but I could breathe. I was breathing directly into my spirit through my third eye.

This was a discovery I made by mistake. I had just started practicing meditation in real life. Maybe 2 weeks or so into it? And I was doing it on my own without influence…and failing quite miserably.

So this felt like a lesson on how to “breathe” properly. How breath cycles through our spirit and is just as valuable as the living breath.

The last significant part of the dream was some time later I picked up my head. I thought maybe I could re-attach it because walking around with the equivalent of an energetic prosthetic for one was u comfortable. But the inside of my head was already decaying and full of maggots and worms. I knew instinctively it meant putting it back on (returning to my previous mindset) would be toxic. So i discarded it.

I finally woke up then.

2nd.

I was living alone in a ravine of a desert. This dark clouded storm began to roll in. This was some time in early humanity based on the robes and the simple living of my little hut on the cliff. I could feel a presence rolling in with the storm - one of ominous nature.

The dream told me it was a plague that wiped out almost all of humanity long ago.

People began to rush into my ravine. I say mine because it is a place I had settled in to protect. Some sort of holy ground or sanctuary. They pleaded with me to help them.

I didn’t want to at first. I simply watched them and weighed my options. The storm would not reach me. This was not my punishment.

But something nudged me to help. That these were the last remaining survivors before humanity was wiped out for good. There were children among them as well.

So I set my basket down and looked to the gray sky. The dark clouds were closing in. I raised my hand and willed a barrier against it. It moved like something possessed with hunger. Like something thrashing around that I could feel strike my barrier like it was striking me.

I was calm the entire time. And a little annoyed because the light I was using to form the barrier was taking too long to pull. I even tsked, “This would be easier if we were in the heavens. Light moves so slowly here.”

I had to hold it at just the right pace for the light to form. What ended up happening was the harder the darkness pressed, the harder the light pressed back. “Give up. The stronger you push, the stronger I become. You cannot break it.”

Eventually it fell back. The dream sped-ran the next few years. I could make ANYTHING out of light. When I built things with it the light would form the shape of it, fill in with runes, and then nature would construct it. Like the light was the blueprint.

I taught them how to do it themselves. They would not survive if they depended on my light. They needed to learn how to harvest their own. When they began to become self sufficient I said my goodbyes.

They were sad for me to go, but I was on empty. “It’s time for me to go. It’s time to forget.”

I walked away from the village, feeling heavy hearted and sorrowful. I had failed to find what I was looking for…who I was looking for. And it was time to start again in a new life.

A man, I can only assume as a guide, appeared to my right dressed in a modern black and white suit. I was walking up the mountain to the cave where I would reincarnate…but I was moving slow and looking out at the town below.

“What will you do now?”

…”I don’t know. He’s not here.”

I made it to the cave and there was a giant crystal in the middle of the open cavern room. I began crying this time. I still don’t know why. I felt like I could use the crystal for my comfort, but I would loose something in exchange.

“Why don’t you anchor to it?” He asked.

“Because then I couldn’t reincarnate. And I will never find him.”

I woke up after that.

I have another one - but I think I will post it later. This is already very long.

So I have shared a bit today about my dream experiences. This is an older one that I still have not fully resolved. It remains on my mind and has me so curious I am chewing on my nails lost in thought.

The dream started out with me and my wife driving around this city. There was a major world war going on and air raids were being carried out EVERYWHERE. Literally, people were scrambling around looking for shelter.

I am in the US, for a baseline detail. This was carried out in my country, but the city was 100% fabricated.

The war broke out after a biological weapon was used against us. I don’t know what or from where. It just created mass panic and chaos. We had bombs raining down from both the enemy side, and from our own troops trying to contain breakouts of this disease in smaller towns.

We were on the run. Because our law force structure was completely broken down people were being people and robbing, murdering, raping, etc. Anything they could get away with.

These pocket cultist communities kept popping up. I kept leading my wife around the streets and avoiding them all, looking for a safe place for us to hide.

One group caught us. The city was beginning to flood, and the disease was now in the murky, brackish waters. They captured us and cut a gash in our palms. That was how they controlled you. If you had an open wound and fell into the water you were sure to catch the illness and die.

I looked at the group, knowing what would wait for us there. Then I looked to the water, and I made the decision for us both.

I grabbed her, and then fell over willingly into the water pulling her with me. Since we were essentially going to die, the group did not come after us.

The water was deeper than I thought. What looked like only a few feet ended up being an entire ocean. It was daytime when this happened (important for later). While we were resurfacing these shadow beasts came from the depths to claw and pull at us. They were trying to pull us under and shred us apart.

I held my wife to my chest with one arm and swat and kicked at them with the rest of me. They were not coming after me, and for some reason I knew they couldn’t hurt me, but they were trying to take my wife from my arms and drag her away. She was terrified and holding onto me tightly.

As soon as I thought we were both going to die like this, something else rose out of the water and hooked under my free arm to lift us out. I was completely caught off guard.

It was a black horse. Beautiful and solid midnight black with these glowing green fire hooves. My arm was slung over it’s back while it kicked around in the water to scare the shadow beasts away. I looked under the water and watched, amazed, realizing it could keep them away from us.

It then swam with us all away across the black ocean. It was suddenly night time now, with stars all across the sky.

It swam until it was exhausted to the other side of the lake. Daytime returned, and we were back in another make-shift raft city made of sheet metal. I got my wife up onto the deck and then bent down to help pull the horse out before it drowned. It grew much smaller and weak, like it spent a ton of energy getting us here.

It just stared at me and laid there on the deck while recovering. Curious and surprised somehow that I even bothered to help it. Like it wasn’t expecting that.

I woke up soon after.

I still don’t know what it all means. I have theories (like it’s Hade’s horse or some other creature that ferries souls) and I still believe we passed over some type of “Dead Ocean” to escape. I don’t know. It’s still very vivid in my mind.

I am curious if anyone else experiences intense and vivid dreams like I do. I find it rare that anyone believes me anymore.

I go places in my dreams. Some of them stay with me like a memory. I have had several apocalyptic dreams of how the earth “ends” and how civilization rebuilds afterward. I have melted into other worlds made of ice, ones that were destroyed by giant creatures I had to fight, been dropped into galactic and magical wars…just….intense and crazy stuff that are so clear, so vivid, and so detailed it’s like reading a book.

But that isn’t all of what I want to ask if anyone else experiences.

I also meet entities.

I have encountered demons and vengeful souls. Some I have helped pass on…some that tormented me awake.

I have met Zeus and stood trial in his court for raising forces against the gods with the other humans. Been beheaded for it and then forced myself to stay asleep in defiance of being erased. Which he was proud of (we were close friends) and was my first lesson on how to let the soul breathe through the third eye. My head, later on, when I tried to re-attach it was full of maggots and worms, resembling how going back toy previous mindset would be toxic. So I walked around the rest of the dream with an energetic extension for my head.

I have been to their court gatherings many times. I have seen all sorts of gods and beings. Some made of fire. Some devilish. Some giant, some small. And every time they look surprised that I “snuck” in, but they don’t bother me other than some long and strange looks.

I have wielded magic. I have woven light to protect a civilization from a darkness that threatened to devour them. I have faces croons and witches, hags and all sorts of darkness with confidence and with an inner knowing like I have done it before.

It sounds theatrical and delusional. I know how it sounds. How it looks. I have had to face my fears several times in order to survive in them. It’s almost like being a warrior of dreams?

Please tell me I am not alone. I would so very much like to believe SOMETHING about me is normal.

I had the strangest dream. This is the closest place for me to write it down.

I don’t remember most of how it began, but I remember how it ended.

There was a man that was obsessed with stolen power. He kept hoarding it and flaunting it around. But when he tried to use it on me it didn’t work. He became obsessed with making me yield to him and pulled power from an entity that was too strong for him.
The energy backfired. I warned him of this but he would not listen. So I stood there and watched as the energy he stole began to curse him. His body began to fail him and rejected the energy…and I watched helplessly with compassion as he aged before my eyes.

It was his decision and I was a witness to his end. He went from a man in his thirties to a wrinkled, hollow shell of a 90 year old man within minutes. I watched the fear in his eyes as he began to accept his fate. He began to reflect on everything he had done with that power, and in his final moments truly was remorseful for it.

He had just been afraid to die, and to die alone.
So I let his frail body lean on me. I pressed my hand to his cheek and I can still feel how real that was. The sunken park of his jaw, the wrinkled skin, the warmth of his tears. “It’s okay. It will be over soon. You are not alone, I am here.”

Even the entity he stole the power from stood next to me as a young man in a black suit. He stood as witness as well, hands in his pockets, head bowed. He did not judge the man, just felt the same type of sorrow I did on the man’s behalf.

He had done terrible things. Ruined many lives. Stolen life from others. But even he was not beyond redemption. He was forgiven and allowed peace.
I woke up just as his breathing became shallow, and his gaze began to fade into that listless expression of death.

I have never watched someone die. Though I suppose I have seen it in movies. But this was much more natural…not the theatrical death portrayed in dramas.

I woke up around 3 am with a feeling of having traveled and experienced something new. In the bath now trying to orientate myself.
I just helped a man die peacefully.

There were other things that happened before all of this. Other several encounters in this world the man was from. Most of it was just noise - not worthy of remembering.

But I remember him clearly.

I’ll do my best to keep this coherent and not rambling.

I’m a 38 F and I placed my family on the block list over the holidays in 2025. I am the middle child with 2 older sisters (different Dad) and one younger (same Dad). My parents have been divorced since I was 10.

After my parents divorced, things started to really take a slide on my mother’s side. My older sisters moved out, my mom was always working, and my younger sister began to really feel the weight of our family splitting apart. She would take this out on me through picking fights, trying to compete with me for the time Mom had, got her friends to bully me, talked trash to me to my friends and everyone at our school, and even got her friends to gang up on me to poke and make fun of.

By the time I was 12 I was estranged. I had one friend that had eventually faded away because my social image was crippled. I decided to move in with my Dad and start my life over.

My mom, my older sisters, and my aunts all told me I was wicked. That I was hurting my mom and that I needed to stay with her for the good of the family. They thought I was committing the ultimate evil for choosing to go with my dad, even went so far as to paint him as this villain that only wanted me to move in with him because he hated my mother and wanted to hurt her emotionally. My mom called me the “Devil’s child” and was no child of hers.

She denies ever saying that to this day.

Fast forward to 15 and I have made new friends that opened up my mind to so many different things. I began to experience a shift in my beliefs, my personality, and all the good things that come with growing up. I went every other weekend to my mother’s house to visit. I tried so hard to fix things. I wanted them in my life. I loved them, still do. But as I grew older I started to see the same pattern.

Make some emotional excuse to bring me around, try to corner me with kindness (I was quick to bend to others out of a soft heart), try to convince me to change my mind, altar my opinions, and bring me “back into the fold” into this image of me they wanted me to be. They couldn’t let this image go, and they were convinced I was brainwashed and they knew who I REALLY was.

Then my younger sister fell heavily into drugs and alcoholism. I spent most of my twenties and early 30s only getting a call from them when they were worried about her and wanted me to step in. When I did, it was with the tough love she needed. I didn’t sugar coat things and enable her behavior like they did. Of course, I became the criminal and the target of their built up frustration and stress.

I was the calm child. The obedient child. The one that did everything I was told and asked, even if I was bone deep tired and wanted to scream no.

When I finally started saying no and keeping distance, things went silent. 3 months. 6 months. 8 months. Maybe a call from my Mom making me feel guilty for never calling her. Calls that always ended in a fight with me defending myself.

Then years. I would show up if it really mattered. But they always took a chance to catch me before I left to try and pull me back in again with guilt and pleading tactics.

Last year my mom got sick. She had to have emergency brain surgery and almost died. She was in ICU for months. I showed up once on the day she was hospitalized. Sat in the waiting room for 9 hours with only one aunt (ironically the only other family member that did what I did and distanced herself from them) and we never got any visit or word from my sisters. The room was limited to 2 visitors. They let us sit there all day until 30 min left in the visiting window.

I got to see her for 10 minutes before the pressure for me to keep coming back began.

My older sister said she would help me for one follow up visit. I had to work 2 jobs at the time and couldn’t afford to come daily. Even though I wanted to. I explained this to her, and she acted like she understood. Until I got there and she slid me a little extra and said, “I gave you a bit extra so you can come back again.”

I just looked at her. Nodded. And silently sat there until I had to leave. It was like she didn’t listen at all. She took the opportunity to try and open the talk about my beliefs…once again challenging me…once again trying to change me.

A month later she was texting me. Asking how I was doing. Showing concern. And then, “Well since you have the time now, I really need help on Sundays. I haven’t been home in a month. I really need you.”

This would have been the 5th or 6th time telling her I didn’t have the money for the gas, the parking garage, having to eat there, and missing out on the time for my second side income we desperately needed to catch up our bills. Showing up was taking away from my family, and she had more support and resources than I did.

So I blocked them all. I had enough. I needed to focus on my wife and child and our quality of life. I kept my mom in my prayers and did what I had to do.

It’s July 2026 now. I unblocked my mom and call her on occasion. She is recovering, but the surgery has left her slurred and unable to do much for herself.

I want to spend time with her in person while she is still here. It’s a miracle that she is. But I don’t know if I want to deal with my sisters and family that feel like strangers now pulling on my strings. I’d like to think I am stronger in my boundaries now, but I am beginning to question whether I am over reacting with all of this…or if I am justified to be hesitant.

Time is so precious. I want to make better memories with my mother. But I don’t know if I am just re-opening new wounds for no reason.

This may or may not relate to you all as a post relating to enlightenment. I suppose that will be up to you to decide. But I keep my circles small to manage my energy, and this IS something that has happened on my journey. So take it as you will.

I will need to provide a little bit of a back story to help explain the dilemma I am facing.

I come from a traditional southern christian family. While we did not go to church on a consistent bases, I was brought up with the belief in God and Jesus. I was taught what the bible was. What was right and wrong. What was expected of me to be in Gods favor and how the devil is the source of all evil in the world.

While I listened and participated, because they were my family, it never truly STUCK to me. It felt so far away you might as well have painted it on a billboard 10 miles down the road.

I could SEE the shape of it, but I couldn’t read it. Because I did not yet understand that how I experienced the world was so different from them all that I might as well have spoken another language.

There have been many arguments in my lifetime when I questioned or challenged their system. I went to church, and genuinely enjoyed it for the people there. I made friends, made my family proud, and felt like I could eventually “get used” to this feeling of being misplaced and entirely out of my element. But as I grew older it became harder to play the part.

I began to recognize it around 13 years old. I had gone to a church camp with one of my few friends and had an amazing experience there. I felt connected to the people in a comfortable way, and thought maybe I was finally finding my way.

I told my mother all about it. I was lit up and bright with excitement about the future and what this could mean for me. I didn’t feel pressured with how they practiced and celebrated their faith. They were just people having a good time and embracing each other without judgment.

She was happy for me…until I told her I wanted to move out with my dad. They had gotten divorced when I was 10. I was unhappy at my mom’s house because my younger sister constantly fought with me, I was bullied at school for being too “weird” (I was a naive little goody-good that was reactive when someone made fun of me. I cried easily. Kids can be mean little shits.)

My dad was re-marrying and buying a new house an hour away. I wanted a new start so badly.

She…gave me hell. And not just her, but my older sisters, my aunts, everyone I knew told me I was a monster and hurting my mother. It was my fault she was on pain.

“And don’t you tell me how you were changed on that camping trip! You are not God’s child, you are the devil’s child.”

My entire world shattered. Turned upside down, inside out, and scattered to the four winds. After my dad took the phone from me (I was sobbing too hard to speak) and curtly told my mom she was out of line, my perception of christianity began to change.

From my point of view I had done everything right. I was always good and did what I was told. I didn’t cuss. I didn’t do or speak about anything inappropriate. I loved people equally without judgement and always wanted to be the one that helped out.

So when that all went down it dragged everything into the light for a second glance. That is when the old feeling I had stuffed away came back.

“This isn’t right. It’s not supposed to be this way.” But, it was all I knew.

That feeling grew with me as I aged. I began to just…KNOW things. Only to find them written or spoken by someone later on. In documentaries. In blogs. Suddenly, the truth that I quietly knew inside and never shared was showing up all around me.

By 15 I looked up at the sky while the sun was setting and said quietly, “Okay. I am ready to know what this is. Show me.”

The message I got back, more as a feeling than a voice, “Are you sure? Because once you start, there is no going back?”

“Yes.” I was confident I wanted this. I NEEDED to know.

Now I am 38 (female(. I am married to my best friend (also female). I have a 13 year old daughter that is just starting out her own journey now. She is from my wife’s previous marriage and has been my daughter since the day she was born.

Now to get to the issue.

I have spent all of this time trying to get them to see who I am. But they have not changed. I finally blocked them all last Christmas. The guilt tripping, the cornering methods to ask for something, the emotional manipulation to make me feel obligated to change, I just grew tired of it all.

My mother isn’t well. She had major brain surgery that same month. She is home with my older sister now. I know I don’t have much time with her. I can feel her fading into spirit slowly. So I unblocked her and I call her once in a while.

I have this inner peace. Knowing I did something right for myself at last. But I am wondering now if I am ready to unblock them. Because I am starting to think about it often - how bad I still feel about having to go that far. I feel like I am still giving them power this way instead of just being the bigger person and letting them talk.

So…should I unblock them? I have learned how to just listen and let people talk. But I am not sure if this will be good for me.

So I have a legitimate question for all you lovely souls.

I don’t trust many of the sources in the social media circle. While they speak some truths I can agree with, I feel like they complicate it and lose the meaning in the process.

Some sources call this a spiritual attack, an energy vampire, an empathy drain, etc etc.

But I want to hear what you have to say about it.

I have been doing well the past couple of weeks. Far better than ever, actually. I cannot recall the last time I felt so warm, so loved, and so free of my feae of being seen. I have been living instead of tied to this screen.

But yesterday….I have a major dip.

It came from nowhere. I was driving with my wife, telling a story (something we love to do to pass the time) while Door Dashing as my second income. We have some financial stress, but have approached this problem with new energy instead of constantly stressing out over it.

I lasted about 15 minutes in the car before I suddenly felt so drained…so wickedly empty…that it grated on my nerves kinda like a withdrawal symptom.

I felt prickling in my arms and chest. My vision was getting swimmy. My thoughts spiked out of control. And while I was trying to hold myself together I kept missing turns, zoning out of our conversation, and feeling like I was suddenly faint.

There was no reason for it. But all the sudden I wanted to push her away, run out of the car, and isolate away from the light and sounds.

I have no medical conditions. I have very mild ADHD, but it is not medicated. It’s barely on the edge of the spectrum. Very manageable.

It felt like something that happened TO ME instead of something I was doing. I had no control - like being flushed down a drain I did not see coming.

I’m still rattling with it. Had a very restless night. I feel anxious about it

I find myself sitting on the fence this morning.

I am completely exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted.

And I think I screwed up somewhere to cause that.

I had a handful of friends that I slowly, over time, lost either to their own problems or that I walked away from because engaging in conversation with them left me drained and wanting for something I could not name.

About a year ago I did a massive withdraw from my entire social life. I hit rock bottom with my disappointment and my responsibilities were piling up. I doubled down on my work, both my real job and the one that happens within.

The silence was necessary…still is necessary. There are many things I uncovered that were still hurting. Still bleeding beneath the surface. I worked through them all with the care and patience that I owe to myself and learned how to really show up for me.

My return to social media is fairly new. My first post here…I think it was maybe a month ago, I am not sure….was my first time stepping back into some form of social life.

And I am terrified.

Terrified because I remember what the pull of my energy feels like. That I will fall back into hard patterns and relapse into trying to be appealing to others. At the same time I have this calm understanding that I won’t let it get far if it does happen. I have already survived it. I have healed the wound, but not the fear.

The only way to do that is to let the fear rise and let it go. I suppose that is what this post is, because I have no one else in my life that I can speak it to with my voice.

I have a long list of friends that I have not seen or spoke to in over a year. The compulsion to reach out to a few of them is pulling me in a tug-of-war like energy. Do I dare hope things will be different? Would I be able to maintain compassion, or will I project my expectations onto them for the kind of relationship I want?

I am not sure it is wise, and maybe my hesitation is a sign within itself.

I am at a phase in my transition that I feel my spirit alive within me. I have felt this before when I was very young. Like my presence is within this body of flesh, viewing the world outside from someone else’s body. Because this body is not me, it just houses me. I am still adjusting to this and learning how to function in my daily life while feeling like I belong somewhere else. It has flared up my depression something fierce, and now I find myself wanting company.

But I don’t want to return to shallow connections that drain me.

I’m not sure what to do. I should be listening to my soul and higher self, I suppose. It just feels so lonely to have only yourself to talk to.

I’m going to be a bit personal with this post. My goal is to share my perspective and how I process deeper meaning without projection.

I am not looking for applause, acknowledgment, validation or attention of any sort. This just hit me in a powerfully compelling space to share.

I will be discussing the medical trauma of a loved one in this post. So please read with discernment.

With that out of the way…this is my reality.

Ever since I was small, and as early as I can remember (2-3 years old) I have seen manifestations of shadows. While growing up I thought nothing of it. It had always been with me and I was often told how vivid my imagination was, so I rationalized it as normal.

The type of darkness I can describe can sound like a child explaining something that scares them. An empty corner. A long hallway. Anything that is cast into the unknown.

But what I saw was generally around people.

People that were happy and care free were bright. Approachable. Visibly there.

People that were angry, depressed, or otherwise stuck in negative moods were dark. Blurry. Featureless like something you see from your peripheral vision.

I have a hard time looking people in the eyes to this day. Even in my dreams faces are blacked out, blurry, or otherwise cut off unless I am being approached by another force outside of myself. (Another topic for another time.)

As I have grown (38 now) and learned about myself…why I have always been different and somehow removed from the world in some way…I have learned that what I was seeing was energy. Not necessarily something negative, as one would expect from something described as darkness, but something like a blockage or a consumption that was manifesting in a person’s physical body.

I learned this by slowing down, learning how to watch, to listen, and to practice boundaries with my empathy. It’s still something I am, and always will be working on.

I noticed a correlation eventually. A black seed in my sister’s belly and a dream about a malformed pregnancy with a boy that I experienced as myself. (I have never had children and I could feel this baby kicking inside of my rib cage as though I would know what that feels like.) She lost a baby to Trisomy. A boy.

A dream that the oven burst into flames after being touched by a red tribal man that the moon turned into and burned my mother. Learned she had burned her hand the next day.

The darkness underneath the skin of my best friend’s grandmother. Something inside of me was telling me she didn’t have long left to live. A month or two later we learned she had passed away.

Several other small things that I do not quite recall. But those have been the ones that stuck with me the most.

This past year, I think it was around this time last year, I had a meditation vision that my mother was being surrounded by a dark shadow dragon. It came out of her left arm and swirled around her.

Then the meditation shifted and I was standing in her place. The same dark dragon came from me, but stronger, and spiraled like a tornado through the house.

I thought it meant ancestral energy being handed down. That maybe there were some things she and I had in common that I didn’t know about.

She had to have life saving surgery that fall. The left side of her face went droopy, her left arm and leg were on fire with pain. They found a small tumor in her brain and other vesicular defects/aneurisms that were inflamed and needed immediate surgery.

I just made the correlation yesterday.

That part of the shadow I am seeing is manifesting in their bodies because of the energy they are projecting. My mother has always been health conscious (something she got from her mother) and overly worried about how the world is out to get you. Out to sabotage you and go after your health.

So, in short, the shadow I am seeing is self inflicted. It is a sense of imbalance and self harm being done that is unseen.

And by sharing her perception in that vision, tells me I am doing the same thing to myself.

I struggle with mental health and obesity. Low self confidence and other similar things.

So leaves me to wonder how much I have fed my own shadow

Having a strange thought this morning.

Gardening is something I fell in love with early on as a child because it was time I spent bonding with my mother. You could say she passed that gift down to me.

I can remember a time when we had a major storm come through and wrecked part of my neighbor’s garden. She was a middle aged lady with 2 teenage sons. She was introverted and quirky, which in the early 90s was even quirkier…of you know what I mean.

She had a giant oak tree in her front yard. (Gone now. So sad. I spent many summers in that tree.) The storm broke off a main branch that crushed a good 20 foot section of her flowerbeds.

I remember going outside and seeing her there with her tools trying to clean up and save as many of them as possible once the tree people left. She was sobbing in that way where you can tell she was trying her best to keep it together but the heart break was just too much.

I remember thinking it odd. Why was she so sad? They were just plants. I didn’t understand what was making her cry, though I wanted her to not be sad. My mother ended up pulling me away. “She loves them, that’s why.”

As a middle-aged woman myself now I can relate to her sorrow. You pour your love, time and energy into a garden for the peace and satisfaction of watching it bloom. Every amount of care you put into your garden shows. The flowers are brighter, the vegetation fuller, the grass greener when you tend to it with unconditional care.

And the garden gives that back in equal measure.

It sustains. It purifies. It heals. It listens.

So to lose part of it through such a tragic means must of felt like part of herself was lost in the process.

The more I sit in this and think about it, the more I realize why I love gardening as I am now. It’s one thing in this chaotic world I can count on to always be there and to give back as much as I put in.

In short - my garden is a glowing example of unconditional love.

I think we can learn from that as humans. That something so small and with such a short life spends its entire existence giving BACK to the world.

And it does it lovingly.

I’m listening to some of my favorite cafe jazz and herbalist shop ambience while working. It is one of the few small changes I have made - to incorporate a little bit of what I hide beneath out into the open space of my office.

I have been so afraid for so long to be open and expressive. I think that is a fear we ALL can relate to.

This year…the shift I am experiencing is pealing that fear away. I have been here many times before…sitting on this same step, drinking this same mug, listening to the same sort of music and dreaming about what it would be like to make this reality.

But this time feels different. I am not claiming to be perfect or that I have figured it all out. I have my dark moments still…my shadows still rise when they are neglected. What has changed, though, is how “still” I feel.

Not in fear. Not in contemplation. Not even in question. Just….calm and confident. Like the wait is almost over, and I can feel what is coming is something I am aligned with so deeply it brings me serenity and peace.

I cannot name it. Like most things it resonates without words. Without purpose. Just….a warmth that I can feel building…pulling and guiding.

Then, in this same dream of being up early in the morning…drying herbs on a Sunday and getting my cafe ready for next week….a gentle voice drifts in on the wind.

“Why are you still waiting?”

Am I still waiting? I know what it is asking. “Why are you waiting for permission? The dream is yours.”

Sometimes we can feel like we are growing, like we have completed the work and are stuck between phases. That has been my space for….I don’t know, quite some time though.

But now the shift is starting to put the pieces together. I can see the dream more clearly, and I can see what has stopped me from reaching it.

I have heard “getting in your own way” many, many times. I never really understood it. But…I think now I can begin to understand.

“So what do I do?” I ask back openly. “Where do I go? Will you show me?”

It’s like being on the edge of your seat at the end of a book, knowing the next tomb is ready to go. The story goes on even after turning the final page, and you can begin to see the end that draws nearer.

“Why AM I still waiting? What truly holds me back from working towards this dream?”

It’s everything I thought I knew. Everything that I am still afraid of losing. But most importantly it’s because I still believe that I will fail.

“Well then. Maybe I just try without expecting anything…and see what happens.”

Set the empty mug down…and pick up a brush.

I have just realized why my employment feels so wrong now.

Outside of the general shift of my interests, I have been feeling ill and “boxed-in” when I walk into my office.

I have been with this company for 7 years. Recently, I had to fight against a bad manager to be taken out of his influence. I was working hard and doing most of his job (he’s a remote manager) training up the team as the senior representative in my department.

But then he back-stabbed me when I needed him to look out for me. So I pulled my strings to move back to my old department.

The first few months were peaceful. But a major shift in my perception of my personal growth has been throwing out buffers against things that I no longer need, or that hold no meaning for me anymore.

And when I ignore it the symptoms become worse.

So I did not understand why my office or my work was beginning to show these signs. I have a lot of financial and emotional stress in my life currently, so I approached this as “burn-out” and did my usual self care towards myself. I brought a candle. Drank warm tea. Put on my favorite cafe jazz music. And just vibed.

That worked for about a week before the symptoms began to eat through even that.

So something is VERY off. I am definitely no longer where I need to be, but I have invested so much into this role. Finding another job right now is a terrifying idea. We are up against AI, a war is on-going (stupid ridiculous war that I despise), and inflation is through the roof. It is, in all strategic sense, the WORST time to leave a stable and secure job.

But what do you do when it feels like staying there is slowly splitting you open from the inside out?

I despise AI. Not that I despise it as a tool (I think used in moderation and within reason it is alright) but the extent it is being taken to is out of control. My wife and I have watched news surrounding it…and it is frightening, to say the least. The future I can perceive if humanity follows this path….is a very dark one.

In some ways I can see AI as an Antichrist of sorts.

I just read an article this morning about a massive datacenter that secretly (and illegally) siphoned 29 million gallons of water from a residential resource. So much that it affected the water pressure in people’s homes.

And they are getting away with it.

It is….infuriating. All of this in the name of AI? It makes no logical sense. What is the world going to do when there are no jobs…no resources….and no income?

Will AI fill your stomach and shelter you? Will it give you a purpose to exist? I think not.

And then, I finally understood the feeling at work. The majority of the profit and work we have been getting…is to contribute building these data centers.

…I am sitting with that this morning. I have been wanting to move away from technology for a few weeks now. My wife and I have slowly pulled away from it, and the result has been double sided.

But maybe…there is another reason it makes me ill…makes me feel anxious and restless….makes me want to leave my job and move away from the city life.

Maybe…it’s because whatever is coming is something to move away from.