I’ve always believed my subconscious speaks through my dreams.
Not every dream is profound. Some are strange, random, or disappear before my feet hit the floor in the morning. But over the years, I’ve learned that when a dream lingers, it’s usually because my subconscious is trying to show me something my busy, waking mind hasn’t fully recognized yet.
This past week, two dreams caught my attention. On the surface they seemed ordinary, but together they revealed a pattern I couldn’t ignore.
In the first dream, I was moving out of what I think was my sister’s space. There was no urgency, no conflict, and no moving truck waiting outside. I wasn’t carrying heavy furniture or packing boxes.
Instead, I kept picking up small things.
I would move one item, then another, carefully getting them out of her way. I remember telling her several times, “Don’t worry. I’ll get it out of your way.”
At one point, I picked something up from a dining room table that was covered with my belongings and gently placed it on top of a children’s book.
Then I woke up.
The following night, another dream continued the story.
This time I was standing in front of a large wardrobe with four sections. I was organizing clothes, not mine, but my children’s. Each child had their own section, and I carefully placed their clothes into their space.
The four sections were all different. Different shapes, colors, sizes. Three sections had glass doors. One did not. The open section belonged to my second child, my oldest son who questioned why his section didn’t have doors.
Without hesitation, I answered, “I’m just seeing if it fits. I haven’t determined where everyone’s stuff will go, I’m just putting it here to see if it fits.”
Then the dream ended.
As I sat with both dreams, something became obvious.
Neither one was really about moving. Neither one was about closets. Neither one was about furniture.
Both dreams were about organizing
That realization made me smile because organizing is a language my subconscious knows well.
I’ve moved more times than I can count. I’ve packed up homes, filled storage units, downsized my possessions, and eventually learned how to fit the essentials of my life into a van. Every move required the same questions.
What stays? What goes? What belongs in the next chapter? These questions aren’t just about possessions anymore. They’re about life.
For years, many of my dreams were about survival. I was running from something, trying to escape, solving problems, searching for a way out. Even while I slept, I was working.
Recently, my dreams have changed.
Instead of escaping danger, I’m arranging shelves.
Instead of fighting my way forward, I’m making room.
Instead of searching for an exit, I’m deciding what belongs.
That feels exactly like the season of life I’m living.
I’m organizing my writing.
I’m organizing my priorities.
I’m organizing relationships.
I’m organizing ideas that have been scattered across notebooks, computer files, and years of experiences. I’m even organizing who I want to become in this next chapter of my life.
The wardrobe dream stayed with me the longest. Not because of the wardrobe itself, but because I was organizing my children’s clothes. They’re adults now. Each is building a life that looks different from the others. Each has unique gifts, different challenges, and their own journey to walk.
As parents, I don’t think we ever stop caring about where our children fit in this world.
What struck me most was my response to my son.
“I’m just seeing if it fits.”
The evening before that dream, Lucas and I had been watching some of my sons spoken-word videos. We were talking about his voice, his creative voice, his convictions, the way he expresses himself. We don’t always see every issue the same way, but I have always admired his willingness to stand for what he believes.
It makes perfect sense that he found his way into my dream. My answer wasn’t about clothes.
It was about life. Sometimes we’re all just trying to see what fits.
A career. A dream. A relationship. A belief. A new version of ourselves.
There is wisdom in giving ourselves permission to try something without deciding it has to be permanent.
The other dream carried a similar message. I wasn’t throwing things away. I wasn’t clinging to them either.
I was simply making space.
Make space
The older I get, the more I realize that growth isn’t always about adding something new. Sometimes it’s about creating room for what has been waiting to emerge.
That’s what these dreams reminded me. My subconscious wasn’t asking me to organize another closet. It was encouraging me to organize my life with the same care I’ve used every time I’ve packed for a move.
Keep what matters.
Release what doesn’t.
Give every important part of your life a place.
Leave room for what still needs to find its fit.
I’ve come to treasure these conversations with my subconscious. They rarely shout. They don’t arrive with flashing lights or easy answers. Instead, they quietly place a simple dream in front of me and invite me to pay attention.
This week, my dreams reminded me that I’m no longer packing for another move. I am no longer in survival mode. I am not just getting through the day anymore.
I am organizing the next chapter of my life.
Deciding what belongs in my life and in my future—my writing, my book, my relationships, my business, my health, my identity.
And I am allowing my children to do the same. Explore what fits in their lives. And create their own futures.
