One of the ways that Spirit talks to me is through dreams.

Vivid dreams that are charged with meaning, perfectly timed, just before waking.

In this dream, I find myself in a place that I know is Australia, but it feels more like Tuscany or Catalonia. It’s old.

I’m walking down an alley way, with stone buildings on either side. Everything is made of stone and wood. It’s dry and hot. The ground is orange and the air is heavy with summer.

I walk into a garden. Right in front of me, there is a big wooden table.

The table is on a sort of deck and the garden is in front of it. It’s a sunken garden; it dips below ground level. The ground is dry and there are lots of vegetables planted in the garden. It’s a kitchen/vegetable garden.

Waiting at the table is an Australian man with blonde curly hair and he’s gorgeous. He’s well built and tanned. But he feels quite lost to me. Am I supposed to read for him? He shows me a book that he’s written with his father. His father is a business man but he is not. He tells me that he’s doing a degree in business studies at some university. He feels so lost to me and I would tell him this, except I can’t help being distracted and looking at the three boys who are pacing around the edges of the vegetable garden – like broken records, round and round, walking backward too. They look lost too. I ask the curly-haired guy ‘why are those boys pacing around the garden?’. He says ‘what boys?’

He can’t see them even though they are right in front of him. I get goose bumps because I realize we are not seeing life the same. How unsettling. He sees vegetables in a garden and I see lost little boys pacing up and down like broken records.

I tell the boys I can see them and ask them to come over to me. I ask them to lift up the edges of the table to prove that they are there. They do, but he still can’t see them. The wind blows but he can’t see it. So he isn’t convinced that it is there.

Spirit tells me: we all see life differently. Where I see boys pacing up and down, you see a vegetable garden. We all put our own labels on life and that is how we shape our world – all living in different realities. Where yours and mine coincide, that’s the sweet spot and you show me something of life that is new to me; that I’ve never seen before.

But I won’t let your labels rule my reality.

To my mother, I’m irresponsible and ungrounded. To my lover, I’m the perfect balance between the spiritual and physical. To my father, I’m proud and bossy. According to everyone, a mass of contradictions.

Everyone sees me in their own way and none of that is true apart from what I choose.

He’s telling me he can’t see the boys and now I begin to doubt whether HE is even there. Is he real or is he dead?

Spirit says: It doesn’t matter. You can see them all. Trust in your own perceptions and truth, otherwise, you have nothing to see with at all.

Who is this man? If you know him, tell him that studying business is stifling his soul.