For the past few days, I’ve felt out of alignment—burned out, introspective, even unsure of myself. And then, in my sleep, a dream surfaced like a whisper from my subconscious.
In my dream, I was in a pharmacy, talking to a woman who had the same cancer I did. She was struggling—feeling weighed down, lost, defeated. But I was the opposite: full of energy and vitality. I told her about my simplified daily habits—the small routines that helped me heal, not just physically but emotionally and spiritually.
And then there was the escalator. I was flipping on it, riding up and down like a kid at play, showing her that healing doesn’t have to be cumbersome. It can be joyful, creative, and light.
As I reflected on this dream, its symbolism began to unfold. The pharmacy felt like a space of healing, and the escalator—initially just a backdrop—suddenly took center stage as a symbol of life’s dynamic nature—sometimes rising, sometimes descending, but always in motion.
When I woke up, I couldn’t stop thinking about the escalator—and about the two versions of me that appeared in the dream. There was the vibrant, energetic self, eager to share what I’d learned. And then there was the quiet, introspective side of me that has taken over lately.
Recently, I’ve been feeling burned out. Antisocial. Like I’m retreating into myself. I’m not sharing as much with the world—not my daily workouts, not my habits, not even my thoughts, except with my husband and mom. Not long ago, people were telling me I was inspiring, and their encouragement kept me going. Now, I find myself asking: Who am I if I’m not showing up for everyone else?
But this dream reminded me that identity isn’t fixed. It’s fluid, just like life itself. The vibrant healer and the quiet, introspective self aren’t opposites—they’re two parts of the same whole.
The escalator wasn’t just a prop in the dream—it was the heart of its message. Escalators are all about movement, but what struck me was the way I moved on it, flipping and playing, showing the woman that healing doesn’t have to feel like a struggle.
In that moment, I realized something profound: healing, growth, and purpose don’t follow a straight upward path. Sometimes, you’re climbing toward expansion and new heights. Other times, you’re descending into grounding and introspection.
And here’s the beauty of it: both directions serve us.
Going up is about striving for joy, growth, and outward expansion.
Going down is about reconnecting with your foundation, resting, and diving deeper into yourself.
Right now, I’m in a “down” phase, retreating from the world and feeling pretty burned out. But that doesn’t mean I’m failing or giving up. It means I’m grounding, resting, and preparing for the next phase of growth.
Reflections in the Still Waters of Dreams
Dreams are like mirrors—they reflect our inner worlds in ways that words sometimes can’t. In my dream, the woman in the pharmacy wasn’t just someone I was helping. She was also me: the part of me that’s still learning, still healing, still finding balance.
What struck me most was the escalator. Escalators make movement look effortless, but for me, they’ve always been uneasy territory—ever since one ate my KEDS sneakers at the mall and almost cut my toes off as a kid. That fear is real, but so is my ability to confront it, to play and flip and move between “up” and “down” phases of life with grace.
Your Own Healing Journey
If you’re feeling burned out or disconnected, like I am, here are some questions inspired by my dream that you might ask yourself:
Where are you on your “escalator” right now? Are you moving up, down, or pausing in between?
Are there habits or practices that used to bring you joy and energy that you could reconnect with?
How can you allow yourself to rest or ground without guilt?
Identity shifts with the phases of life. The person you are in a quiet, reflective season isn’t less valuable or inspiring than the vibrant, outgoing version of yourself. They’re both you, and they’re both worthy.
Flashlights of the Subconscious
One thing I’ve realized is that my dreams are a bridge between my music, my healing, and my identity. They remind me of the joy, creativity, and depth that I want to share with the world.
Maybe this is my new way of helping people heal—through sharing the stories and symbols that my subconscious offers. Dreams might not resonate with everyone, but for those they do resonate with, dreams can illuminate a path toward healing and self-discovery.
What do your dreams tell you? Are there recurring symbols or themes that reflect your own journey? If you’ve never thought about it, I invite you to start noticing. Maybe keep a journal or sketch the dreams that stand out to you.
And if this post resonates with you, let me know. I’d love to hear how your own dreams have guided you—or even what your "escalator ride" looks like right now.
Because at the end of the day, we’re all riding some version of one, moving between the phases of our lives. And whether you’re going up, down, or somewhere in between, it’s all part of the dance.
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