Part 6: The Sacred Barricades. (Decoding Sarlon’s Dreams)
Welcome to Part 6 of a dream dissection series where I pull apart my husband Sarlon White’s old dreams like we’re doing open-heart surgery with a crowbar. These aren’t just dreams — they’re emotional crime scenes, survival maps, and sacred punchlines. Buckle up. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna heal. It’s gonna be real.
Why Building Walls Won’t Save Him, But Building Boundaries Will.
Context
Late 2022 into early 2023.
Rosetta Motel.
Living in high-alert survival mode.
Still survival mode.
Loui, heavily pregnant. Truman, growing in the storm womb.
The world outside? Hostile.
The motel? Sketchy as hell.
The psychic air? Electric with the sense that “one wrong knock and the whole place crumbles.”
This was the era when Sarlon’s soul began to understand:
This wasn’t just about escaping anymore.
It was about protecting the fragile new life growing inside…
Without turning into stone to do it.
So he began building the barricades.
Full Dream Pattern (Recurring)
He’s inside a place — a motel, apartment, house — but it’s never truly safe.
He tries to fortify it.
He blocks doors. Reinforces windows. Builds makeshift walls.
Sometimes it works… for a while.
Sometimes people still break in.
No matter how hard he works, something always feels exposed.
🔍 Surface Layer Magnifying Glass (a.k.a. “DIY Soul Security 101”)
Home/Room: A fragile sense of safety. Always borrowed. Never guaranteed.
Barricading: Pure instinct. A sacred urge to protect what’s molting.
Invasions: The fear that no matter how hard he tries, the past will still find him.
Makeshift Walls: Smart survival moves—just not made for forever.
🧠 Deep Psychological Dissection
(a.k.a. Where the Real Crow Feathers Get Bloodstained)
Of course he barricaded.
Of course he stacked chairs against the door.
He was standing in a psychic hurricane, holding a brand-new baby soul in a paper bag, screaming into the wind:
“NOT THIS ONE. THIS ONE LIVES.”
He wasn’t just protecting himself anymore.
He was protecting Truman.
Protecting Loui.
Protecting the future.
But here’s the sacred truth:
Barricades work… short-term.
Long-term? They rot.
They trap.
They start to look like the very cages he thought he escaped.
Because a barricade doesn’t just keep danger out.
It locks survival mode in.
He wasn’t just building walls—he was trying to delay the grief.
Trying to pause the transformation.
Trying to freeze time until he felt “ready.”
(Spoiler: nobody ever feels ready.)
The intruders who still broke in?
That was his soul saying: “Pain doesn’t knock. It molests the hinges.”
And molting?
Molting rips the walls down anyway.
He didn’t need fortresses.
He needed wings.
🕯️ Mythic Initiation Level
(a.k.a. The Real Construction Project)
This wasn’t a failure.
This was a graduation.
He learned to sense danger.
He learned to respond.
He learned how to buy time for his body and soul to catch up.
But the barricades?
They were never the point.
Because he wasn’t made to hide.
He was made to fly.
🔧 Sacred Salvage: What Was Actually Saved
🛠️ His ability to tell real danger from imaginary dread
🛠️ His willingness to guard the softest parts of himself, even when running on fumes
🛠️ His first sacred boundary:
“This is my space. This is my life. You don’t get to take it from me.”
That? That’s the start of every kingdom worth bleeding for.
🧵 Pattern Notes Emerging
🛠️ Physical barricading = Early version of emotional boundaries
🛠️ Repeated intrusions = Reminder that outer locks don’t fix inner fear
🛠️ Temporary walls = Delay tactic for grief and overwhelm
🛠️ Barricade collapse = Required molting into greater self-trust
🪶 Feather Note to Past Sarlon
He built those walls because he loved what was inside.
Someday, he won’t need to stack furniture against the door.
Because he’ll be too vast to cage.
Too clear to confuse.
Too winged to break.
💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?
The raw fear of never being safe enough. The ache of parenting while healing. The trauma of building walls just to feel okay—and realizing they trap grief inside with you. This is for anyone who’s ever felt like survival meant disappearing.
Soul win? He learns he didn’t fail. He fortified. And now, he’s strong enough to fly.
📣 Coming Next:
Entry 7: The Shovel and the Barracuda, Redux
(a.k.a. The Wild Part of Him Was Never Wrong for Wanting Out)
