February 26, 2026
This hasn’t let me go for several days. And perhaps a little more — to share what is being born inside me.
I dreamed that I was sewing a large sleeping bag. Not for one person, but wide and spacious. As a base, I used a warm black blanket. The other side I had to sew from different patches — different colors, different fabrics, different shapes. Long ones, square ones, all kinds. They needed to be joined together so that they would become one whole piece of fabric. And then — connected to the black base, so that everything would become one sleeping bag.
Then I saw that inside this bag was sleeping a person who lives next door. A neighbor. The one who is near.
I placed a firm layer underneath — cardboard with foam — so that the person would not have to sleep directly on the cold floor. It wasn’t a luxurious bedroom. But it was a place where someone could lie down, get warm, and rest.
When I woke up and began reflecting on this dream, I realized: I am sewing this bag in my life right now.
The black part is my experience of pain.
The colorful patches are my other experiences — my skills and abilities (compassion, organization, endurance, the ability to encourage, to support, to walk through crises without falling apart).
I am not rejecting the black. I am taking it as a foundation and stitching it together with everything bright. I am gathering this experience not only for myself. Perhaps I am learning to create a space where a tired person can enter. A space where the soul can rest. Not in luxury, but in warmth. Not in perfection, but in safety.
It seems to me that through this dream, God is preparing me for a new stage.
I am thinking now about study, about certification, about building upon professional path. And I deeply want everything I do next to include all my patches — both bright and dark. I want it to be about helping the neighbor. About accompanying people through difficult seasons. About creating a “platform” so that a person does not freeze from the coldness of life.
I don’t yet know all the forms and titles. But I know the feeling: I want to sew a resting place for the soul.