Dream-The Trial of Inner Truth
Dream Log | June 22, 2025I woke up from a dream that felt chaotic, disorienting, and random until I started tracking the deeper layers. In the dream, I was in a leadership position within a group. Something happened with a woman details blurred but it escalated to the point where she was beaten so badly she died. I wasn’t alone. There were others involved. Yet I held the notes. I documented everything as it unfolded, color-coded and precise, as if I were both inside the chaos and witnessing it from above.
We were facing legal consequences. I was preparing to go to court, questioning whether to bring these notes forward. Would they help? Or make things worse? That’s when I started seeking out lawyers first the seasoned men, familiar masculine archetypes like Mark Cuban. Then this younger one. Supposedly excellent, but immature, unfocused, unserious. He represented a type of masculine I’ve known too well seemingly capable, but not grounded enough to truly hold me.
Only later did I realize: this wasn’t about law. This was about protection, structure, and truth.
The woman who died wasn’t a stranger she was a part of me. A distorted feminine program that had outlived its purpose: the people-pleaser, the one who held it all together, the one who feared her own truth. Her death wasn’t murder. It was symbolic. A purging.
The dream reflected the moment after a long week of constant movement, after a vulnerable conversation with my partner, after intimacy that softened me and cracked something open. As I slept, the subconscious integration began. What surfaced was the old system dying and the new codes asking to be chosen.
I see it now.
The court, the lawyers, the search for the "right one" These reflect my inner process of judgment, discernment, and making peace with truth. The young, seemingly unserious lawyer could represent a newer, less conventional part of me that knows how to navigate complexity without over identifying with it.
Symbolic of inner masculine archetypes or external authority figures this could relate to how I navigate power, decision-making, and trust in male-led environments.
Taking notes mid-chaos suggests that even during challenging moments, there's a part of me that remains aware tracking, observing, discerning. It shows a growing inner witness that doesn't disappear in moments of emotional charge.
The courtroom was my inner space of discernment.
The lawyers were the masculine structures I’ve leaned on.
The notes were my awakened witness self. The woman’s death was the collapse of an outdated identity.
And I… was standing between it all, asking:
Can I tell the truth? Will I be safe if I’m fully seen?
Can I trust my inner masculine to defend not dismiss my voice?
This wasn’t a nightmare. It was a trial. And the verdict wasn’t punishment it was freedom.
I’m not the version of me who hides the notes anymore.
I’m the one who carries truth like a torch not to burn, but to light the way.
