A mysterious climb. Shadows pulling me back. A sudden realization: they weren't enemies—they were teachers. The dream I had last night wasn’t just vivid. It felt like a message. One that echoed in the bones of my ancestors, especially on this day—Juneteenth.
The Dream: A Hard Climb and a Strange Safety
Some dreams are just random. Some dreams have a message that is hidden and must be teased out. Others are direct messages with no mystery.
I was rock climbing—hands gripping rough edges, body straining upward—when I realized I wasn’t alone. Beings were pulling at me, trying to make me fall. At first, I was afraid. Terrified. I thought falling meant death. But I kept going. I kept climbing.
Slowly, I began to understand: they weren’t trying to destroy me. They were making me stronger. The climb wasn’t a punishment—it was training, a proving ground. Even if I fell, I would be caught. I wasn’t free soloing. I was free climbing—anchored, supported, never truly alone. There’s more, the summit h…
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