LexTalk

The other night, I had a dream that left me wide awake with goosebumps—and not the creepy kind, the soul-knows-something kind.

In this dream, I was riding in a car with friends, just casually cruising when we passed a little shop that caught my eye. It was one of those shops—you know the kind: crystals in the window, tarot cards stacked behind the counter, maybe a little sage smoke dancing in the air. My heart practically leapt out of my chest. I didn’t even wait for a group vote. I asked if we could stop, and then I ran in like my feet had a mind of their own.

At first glance, the shop was tiny. Cozy. But the energy? Electric. The woman behind the counter noticed me right away—almost like she’d been waiting for me. She chatted with me like we were old friends and kept pointing out different sections to explore. I was completely enchanted.

Then, she motioned me toward a door in the back—and when I stepped through it, my jaw dropped. It opened into a massive, sprawling space filled with aisle after aisle of witchy wonders. Candles, crystals, spell jars, ancient books, charms I’d never even seen before… It felt like the inside of my soul had taken shape and turned into a store.

And yet—here’s where it got too real—I suddenly remembered my current financial situation. In the middle of this dream wonderland, I knew I couldn’t afford anything. Not even in dreamland could I escape the weight of my waking world.

I turned to the woman and told her, “I’ll be back. You might get sick of me.”

She just smiled, laughed warmly, and said:

“Good. Bring gloves next time. I could use some help around here.”

And then I woke up.

 What It Meant to Me

This didn’t feel like just a dream. It felt like a message.

That shopkeeper? Maybe she was a guide. Maybe she was my higher self. Maybe she was the Universe in an apron. But what I do know is—she wasn’t trying to sell me anything. She was inviting me to participate in something magical.

Even when I feel like I can’t afford to chase my passions, even when the bills pile up and I have to cancel subscriptions and tighten every belt, there’s still a place for me in the world of magic. I don’t have to buy anything—I just have to show up. With gloves on.

Whether it’s writing, creating, pulling cards, or simply holding space for others—this dream reminded me that I don’t need permission to do what lights me up. I just need to keep showing up.

So maybe this post is your sign, too.

You’re needed. You belong.

And if you’ve been wondering whether to come back to the magic…

bring gloves.

P.S Want to start your own dream journal?

Recording my dreams has become one of my favorite ways to uncover patterns, messages, and even a little magic hiding the subconscious. If you’re inspired to start keeping track of your own dreamscapes, this dream journal from Amazon is beautiful and practical choice. (As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases – at no cost to you!)