I found myself in a large gathering – a spontaneous talent show of sorts – people sharing their talents and souls in the most delicious way.

I was surrounded by a mix of familiar faces and strangers. I even noticed board members from my condo association were there, along with neighbors and loved ones, many strangers, all mingling together in this expansive space.

As a Michael Bublé song began playing, I felt moved to sing. Without planning or preparation, somehow I had a mic in my hand and I let my voice fill the room. People stopped what they were doing, mesmerized. I walked among them as I sang, connecting with each person I passed. The charisma flowing through me felt natural, effortless – a pure expression of my essence. It was such a delicious experience.

When that song ended, another began – one that seemed perfectly crafted for movement.  I don’t remember what the song was, I’m guessing that isn’t important, but it was the kind of song for which a spontaneous, flowing dance would be stunning.

Now, in my waking life, I’m not a dancer. Never have been.  My physical body can’t execute the fluid grace I envision in my mind. However, I love dance, and in my brain, I can see my body doing all the movement, in the most graceful and awesome, coordinated flow. I can never seem to get my body to execute the vision in my head though.

But in this dream state, all limitations dissolved. A woman approached and tapped my shoulder, and we just started to dance. Together we created magic. Our movements were sensual, flowing, spontaneous – a perfect harmony of two beings in motion. The crowd watched in awe, whispering about the unexpected talent they were witnessing.

The dance culminated in a stunning moment when my partner executed a sensual slide across the floor. When I went to help her up, I discovered she had no arms – though she had danced with them moments before. This detail, strange as dreams can be, only added to the beauty as I carefully helped her rise. The tenderness of this moment touched everyone watching deeply.

People surrounded us afterward, showering me with praise and appreciation. My neighbor mentioned that “all the nurses at work would be heartbroken now” – apparently assuming this dance had sealed some romantic connection. I felt desirable, appreciated, truly seen in my full radiance.

I awoke from this dream feeling completely myself – not because I particularly want to sing or dance in waking life, but because it reflected my essence: someone capable of shining brightly, moving others deeply, expressing sensuality and care simultaneously. It showed me who I am beneath all the layers of conditioning and limitation.

This morning, however, I woke to a very different reality. I have chronic low-level pain which often migrates through my body. Exhaustion weighed heavily. My body felt bloated and inflamed. The radiant being from my dream seemed impossibly distant from this physical experience, and that contrast brought sadness.

But then something profound emerged through this experience. As I sat with both the dream memory and my current physical discomfort, I began to sense something deeper – a presence behind both experiences that remained unchanged. Behind my thoughts, feelings, sensations, and perceptions, there exists an essential “me” that I’ve known my entire life. It’s the “I am” that has always been here, regardless of what’s happening in my experience.

This essential self isn’t separate from the greater reality of love that connects all things. It’s my true nature – the same consciousness that lives in you, in everyone, in everything. When I remember this truth, I recognize myself not as my temporary experiences but as this foundational awareness, this love itself. Some might call it consciousness, higher self, universal energy, or divine presence – but words can only point to this direct knowing of who I fundamentally am.

From this recognition, I could see that I was identifying more strongly with my current physical state than with the dream state, when neither is more “real” than the other. Both states – the graceful dancer and the pain-filled body – are simply experiences arising in and through this essential self that I am. The same awareness that held the joyful dancing holds this morning’s pain. The same consciousness that sang through me last night knows this heaviness.

Consider how movies work: there’s the screen itself – steady, unchanging, always present – and then there are the images that appear on it. The screen makes every image possible, yet remains untouched by whatever plays across its surface. Whether the movie shows scenes of joy or sorrow, violence or peace, the screen itself stays exactly as it is.

In the same way, I began to remember how my essential self is like that screen – the unchanging awareness that makes all experience possible. Yet I had been doing something strange: imagine the screen somehow pushing itself out into the theater, turning around, and saying “Look at me up there in the movie!” That’s what I had been doing – identifying with the temporary experiences playing across the screen of awareness rather than recognizing myself as the loving awareness itself.

But my true identity isn’t the content of any experience – dream or waking. Just as a screen isn’t the images it displays, I am the loving awareness within which and through which all experiences arise.

This recognition brought immediate relief. The pain didn’t vanish, but my relationship to it transformed completely. I remembered that I am the source of love regardless of any temporary experience. This spacious awareness that I am offers infinite room for all experiences – painful or pleasant, dream or waking – to arise and pass away while remaining unchanged itself.

In sharing this journey from dream to awakening, I hope to illuminate how remembering our essential nature as awareness creates space for all experience. We don’t need to change our experience; we only need to remember who we truly are. In that remembrance, even while pain or limitation may persist, we find ourselves resting in the peace of our true nature – the awareness that holds it all.