My 30s in five dreams with male figures

In the first, I was dressed formally, in a dress and heels, and anxious I wouldn’t make it to the airport in time to meet my family with the travel documents. A man appeared. Quietly, gently, he advised me to change into something more comfortable for the journey ahead. I saw myself in a shirt and trousers. I arrived at the airport on time, with all the documents, where my family was waiting. The man stayed by my side throughout, though no one else seemed to notice him. I woke feeling reassured and capable.

In the second, we were fleeing some great danger, packed into a train carriage clearly meant for goods, not people. A much older man was with me, a companion and protector. When it was time to part, we embraced for a long time and cried. I woke with a deep sense of loss, and for days I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d lost something irreplaceable.

In the third, I was with a kind of fortune teller. He held my right hand and walked me through the rough and smooth paths of my life. As he guided me, I could feel different energies moving through me. He was warm, gentle, fully present. Then, a deep desire stirred, and we made love.

In the fourth, a man in a suit stood at the door and said simply, “Wait.” I woke feeling unusually calm, grounded even, despite being in the middle of intense work-related stress and competition.

In the fifth, I saw a line of women, women I had admired minutes before as ‘cool’, walking toward what I understood was a gas chamber. I wasn’t part of the line. I was sitting on a bench nearby, next to a man who felt menacing, but something in the air held him back. I tried to call my father to pick me up. He answered, then hung up. I realised I’d have to find my own way, and I didn’t panic. I just knew this was mine to do. The feeling stayed with me when I woke. I knew then that if I kept living the “old way”, it would cost me my soul. And yet, in the dream, I had already started choosing otherwise.

Photo: notebook page, 2007

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