Dream Decoding: The Day My Healing Outgrew the Glass Bubbles

✨ Content is free—but crows like snacks.

Hey, Loui here. Last night my subconscious decided it was done whispering and started painting murals. Here’s what showed up:

The Dreams:

• I dreamed of mice floating in colorful bubbles — like actual iridescent soap bubbles, each mouse riding in its own.

• I dreamed of a baby sea turtle making its way toward water.

• I saw a blue triangle with an eye in the center.

• And when I woke up, my cat brought me a large, wounded bird. It had been hurt but was still alive, and I got to set it free again.

All of it felt rich. Saturated. Like my subconscious had something to say and wasn't whispering anymore — it was painting.

The Breakdown:

Mice in Bubbles: Small survival instincts. Tiny sacred parts of me, floating, fragile, beautiful — each one protected just barely by a delicate film. Every instinct, every tender feeling, its own separate world. Emotional vulnerability made visible, colorful, but still easily popped.

Baby Sea Turtle: New wisdom. Fragile beginnings. An ancient part of me, reborn, trying to make it across dangerous sand into the vast subconscious ocean. A reminder that even ancient souls start small when birthing new lives. Every step toward the water is a step into trust. (Even ancient souls have to belly-flop awkwardly through the sand before they glide.)

Blue Triangle with an Eye: Higher awareness. Sacred geometry. The witnessing self. Communication and truth. The blue, the third eye, the higher sight — all converging into one: "See. Don't forget to see."

Wounded Bird: My spirit. My freedom. My flight. Damaged, but not destroyed. Brought back to me still alive, still breathing, still capable of taking off — even if not unscathed.

What It All Says:

I am in the thick of a major emotional molt. A sacred death of the "old me," and the sometimes agonizing, sometimes awe-inspiring birth of the new.

And with that, I've been grieving. Relationships, the old versions of me.

Every connection to the "old world" I once belonged to. Every role I performed to fit into the stories others needed me to play.
The truth is, I shifted timelines. I shifted worlds.
And now I'm standing behind a sheet of glass, looking at the life I used to know. I can see them — but they can't hear me anymore. They can't feel me.
(It’s like living in a cosmic zoo exhibit. They can see you through the glass. But you’re speaking dolphin now.)
It isn’t their fault. It isn’t mine.
The ground we stood on together was built for a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore.

I’m grieving the part of me that thought if I started doing good things — drinking smoothies, turning off the TV, making better choices — the people I loved would get closer too...
I thought if I got better, everything would get better.
But most of them didn’t know what to talk to me about anymore.
And I don’t blame them.
I changed a lot.
Now it feels like we live in two different worlds.
We still say hi.
We still talk about the weather.

Sacred Takeaways from This Dream Decoding:

• Tiny instincts matter. Even the smallest bubbles deserve protection.

• New wisdom starts fragile. Protect it like a sacred sea turtle hatchling.

• Higher sight isn’t coming. It’s already here. Open the third eye wider.

• Wounded spirits can still fly. Freedom doesn't require perfection.

• Grieving who you used to be isn’t weakness. It’s evolution.

• If it feels like you're behind glass, congratulations: you’re shifting timelines.
  

Sacred Words I’m Holding Right Now:

"I forgive myself for not fitting their mold, and them for not fitting mine."
"I forgive myself for trying so hard to be loveable."
"I release the hope that they will see me as I am."
"I bless what we had, and I bless myself enough to keep my chin up."

Final Thought:

I’m not broken. I’m not bitter. I’m not lost.

I'm just finally telling the truth.

And that's the most sacred thing I've ever done.

✡ -Loui

P.S. If you're feeling like you're standing behind your own sheet of glass right now, seeing a life you can't reach anymore: You're not alone. You're not crazy. You're just molting. And it's holy work.

Stay with it. The ocean's right there.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?

• Feeling invisible or unseen by old connections after personal growth

• Grieving a former self or identity

• Confusion, loneliness, and sadness after healing

• Emotional disconnection and realizing that love was conditional

• The strange grief of waking up in a reality where the old bonds no longer hold

🔮 What’s the sacred transformation or takeaway?
Readers may realize they’re not broken — they’ve crossed into a new world.
They leave with permission to bless the past without shrinking for it, and the sacred understanding that emotional distance after healing is a sign of evolution, not failure.

P.P.S. Got a weird dream lately? Let’s crack it open. (Spoiler: It’s probably not just “stress.” It’s probably a full-blown spiritual molting scene disguised as a talking cat.) Email me at LouiCrow@gmail.com and let's see what's really going on.