There was once a woman who lived alone in a quiet forest house — a place whispered about in the village as the home of the swamp witch. But she wasn’t a witch in the way they feared. She had simply chosen solitude, and her magic was the kind that moved quietly: in plants, in breath, in the way light poured from her heart when darkness came knocking.
One evening, as the sun sank into the trees, she heard the creak of a door that didn’t exist. A shadow figure slipped into the house. Her pulse didn’t quicken. Instead, she stood still and let her chest bloom with light — a radiant force that shimmered out in all directions. The figure dissolved, like ash in wind.
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was on an island. It was a place she knew — a gathering of seekers, a ceremonial space led by a man named Sorin. But this time, the gathering was not in the jungle, not in a maloka, but on an island surrounded by rising winds and whispering trees.
She was with a few women behind a house when the sky began to twist. On a nearby island, a tornado formed, dark and alive, and started spinning toward them. The others ducked low, instinctive. One woman’s voice floated to her: “You, as a Gemini, need to help manifest it away.”
She wasn’t a Gemini — she was born on the cusp, with one foot still in Taurus. But she remembered thinking she was a Gemini as a child, caught between labels. So she closed her eyes and imagined the storm unwinding, unspooling like thread. And as the wind softened, the scene shifted.
She was now indoors, lying on the ground beside other women. The house was messy, like they'd weathered something real. “There was a big gust of wind — we had to manifest it away. Since this one" - one of them said, pointing to another woman -"is a Gemini, I asked her to do it.” The swamp witch smiled. “Funny. I saw the storm in my dream. I guess I helped. Not a real Gemini — but close enough.” Another gust began forming outside. They shut the windows.
Then they moved to the main hall where the ceremony would begin. Sorin stood before them, familiar and changed. He spoke of the old ways — how participants used to receive color-coded ties like belts in martial arts. The longer you came, the higher your rank. “That system,” he said, “created structure, but it also created hierarchy — maybe a kind we’re better off without.” This ceremony would be different. He said they would not journey in silence, but through vision. They would watch a film the team had created — not a narrative, but something alive, strange, and profound.
They drank the medicine. The hall transformed into a massive shared space — a kind of sacred lounge, with soft beds or cushions where everyone lay together. A film began. Visions unfolded: glowing, intricate, more feeling than form. Psychedelic, yes — but also precise, spiritual, like the dreams of a machine that had learned to meditate.
As she sat in the glow, a baby appeared beside her. A small, dark-skinned boy, warm and calm. He wasn’t hers, but no one claimed him. He nestled into her side and fell asleep. Later, as people shifted around, someone nearly rolled onto the child. She gently stopped him. The baby stirred, looked around with luminous eyes, and she said softly, “He’s hungry.” An elder man brought some milk. The baby drank, then curled up and slept on her chest. Eventually, the child’s mother appeared and took him back with gratitude. She rose to wash her hands.
A strange tap stood in the room, without handle or sink. Two older women sat beside it with the controls. “We’ll let you take some water,” they said. She cupped her hands, careful not to spill. Only after did she notice a small sink just nearby. She smiled to herself at how that would have been helpful just a second ago. Suddenly, water began gushing from all taps. Some helpers rushed to investigate. It felt the ladies with the controls might have mistakenly switched the valve the wrong way. And it stopped as quickly as it started.
Later, she noticed a black fluffy kitten. He curled into her arms, purring, but his paw seemed twisted. She sought help, and while walking, the kitten stretched — the paw popped slightly and looked better, but something still felt off. A man said he was already monitoring the kitten’s digestion. “I’ll ask the vet to check the leg too,” he promised. The kitten snuggled closer, content. They went outside.
There, by the edge of the island, stood strange wooden figures — like matryoshka dolls come to life, wearing barrels around their waists. The ceremonial cleaning women. Carved but conscious. One participant approached, asking for forbidden things — some pills, alcohol. The matryoshkas hesitated. One whispered that Sorin had warned them: if they broke the rules again, they would be punished. “Punished how?” she asked. The doll pointed to the next island. Beneath a tree, a scattered pile of broken wooden pieces lay like bones. The participant seeking forbidden items was persistent. One matryoshka, trembling, gave her the pills. Then she began to sob. “If you really believe they’ll break you,” the swamp witch said gently, “then leave. You’re made of wood. You can float. The waters are right there.” The doll looked at her. Not afraid, not yet free, but maybe considering it.
And that’s when the woman woke up. Not back in her forest. Not quite. But somewhere between the worlds — where tornadoes listen, babies find warmth, and even the carved and silent may one day drift away from the systems that keep them afraid.
Some meanings
I like to analyze my dreams a bit with the help of AI, especially ones that are vivid and weird. There are obviously personal messages in any dreams, but just for fun, I decided to offer some potential meanings to some parts of the dream, maybe that will inspire you to look deeper into your own crazy dream experiences.
The creaking door that didn’t exist
An unusual symbol — possibly representing a hidden fear, an unexpected intrusion, or the subconscious influence of someone else's words. In the dream, the figure behind the door doesn’t provoke fear but instead meets a calm, heart-centered light. This moment could reflect an inner resourcefulness: the ability to face fear not with resistance, but with radiance.
The Gemini and the tornado
Gemini is an air sign, associated with thought, communication, and movement — which could mirror the swirling, chaotic energy of a tornado. Being told (in the dream) that “as a Gemini, you must manifest it away” might represent a call to use the mind consciously: to influence perception, energy, or emotional turbulence through intention. Even if the dreamer isn’t astrologically a Gemini, the archetype might be present — especially when born on the cusp — suggesting adaptability and mental focus as tools to calm storms, both literal and emotional.
The colored ties and discontinued classes
The mention of a past hierarchy, where ceremony participants once received ties like martial arts belts, hints at a structured system of growth or spiritual recognition. The dream notes that this system was abandoned — perhaps reflecting a shift away from performance-based spirituality toward a more organic, nonlinear path. The acknowledgment that the hierarchy created inequality adds a layer of critique: some traditions may offer structure, but they can also create distance and competition.
The baby and the kittens
These vulnerable beings — showing up unclaimed, needing care, snuggling in, or showing subtle signs of pain — may symbolize parts of the self or of others that are seeking nurturing, safety, or gentle attention. The baby sleeping on the chest and the purring kitten might represent quiet emotional connections, or even unexpected responsibilities that bring tenderness rather than burden.
The matryoshka cleaning women
Dreamlike and symbolic, these wooden figures — rule-bound and fearful — might represent aspects of collective systems or internalized authority. Their wooden construction could suggest rigidity, and their fear of being broken reflects how tightly they are bound to external control. The dreamer’s invitation for them to float away offers an image of liberation — choosing fluidity and autonomy over obedience and punishment.