I had a dream the other night that lingered with me long after I woke up. It wasn’t a nightmare, but it carried a sense of urgency – a quiet insistence that I needed to understand its meaning.
In the dream, I stepped out of my apartment and onto my balcony – the one I have now, solid and spacious, adorned with my beautiful plants in their heavy concrete pots. But something was wrong. Instead of the usual sturdy concrete building beyond my balcony, there was muddy ground and there had been a landslide. The corner of my balcony was crumbling, the earth beneath it sliding down into a steep drop. My plants, usually secure in their heavy pots, teetered on the edge.
Somehow – though in real life it would’ve been impossible – I managed to pull them back to safety. I brought the pots closer to the inside, and they remained intact. But as soon as they were safe, the balcony continued to disintegrate. The section where they had been hanging off the edge completely disappeared.
That’s when the focus in the dream shifted. Now I was figuring out – how do I fix this? How do I restore the balcony to how it was before? I started looking into whether it could be repaired, but I quickly realised that it wasn’t going to be simple. There was ambiguity over whose responsibility it was. The council wasn’t going to fix it. Maybe it had always been this way, prone to landslides. Maybe all the other houses in the street had dealt with the same problem, and I had just never noticed before.
And then, in the final moments of the dream, I had a realisation:
Maybe I couldn’t do anything about it ? That I’d be fine with a smaller balcony, and should be glad my home was strong and I’d managed to save my plants?
The Contrast Between Stability and Instability
So of course upon waking up, I had to go into a deep analysis about what it could all mean – because that’s how I am – I can’t help overthinking! 😂
What struck me the most was the stark contrast between the setting of the dream and my real life, especially with how I’ve been feeling lately.
The part of the balcony that was collapsing reminded me of instability – of things I once trusted that no longer feel secure. It immediately made me think of my childhood home. The back of that house stood on tall stilts, perched on a steep slope that led down to a small creek. The ground always felt uncertain, especially when the rain turned everything beyond our driveway into thick, clinging mud. We had to navigate steep wooden stairs, often slippery and unstable, just to reach the front door. Even as a child, I understood its fragility – how the entire structure felt like it could shift at any time, never truly secure. In many ways, this instability mirrored life inside that home.
The inside, and the part of the balcony that remained intact – was my current home. A strong, modern apartment with a wide, solid concrete balcony, completely secure, with another stable apartment building behind it.
It was as if the dream was showing me both parts of my life at once – the old foundation, uncertain and shifting, and the new foundation, strong and built to last.
And in the middle of it, I stood there, trying to make sense of it all.
The Lesson in Letting Go
I think we all have these moments – where we try to hold onto something that is slipping away, something that once felt solid but no longer is. Sometimes, though, we realise that what we were holding onto wasn’t all that stable to begin with. It could be an old identity, a job, a way of thinking, or even a version of ourselves that was built on shaky ground – and now, we’ve created something stronger to replace it.
For me, this dream was about more than just my past. It was about my life right now – the transition I’m in, the things I’ve spent years building, and the deep questioning I’ve been doing.
Maybe this dream was telling me:
You can’t stop the landslide.
Some things are simply shifting. And when that happens, you have a choice – you can keep trying to fix what’s crumbling, or you can step back, accept the change, and decide what’s worth salvaging and what you want to do with the rest.
For me, that might mean leaving behind the identity I’ve carried for so long – the one tied to productivity, stability, and the corporate world. It might mean making peace with the fact that my past, with all its lessons and struggles, will always be part of me, but it doesn’t have to define my future.
So, to translate my earlier statement about being fine with a smaller balcony and glad my home was strong and I’d saved my plants:
Maybe I can’t control every aspect of this transition, and instead of holding onto something that was never truly stable, I can finally let it go. Rather than mourning what’s crumbling, I can recognise that it was only holding me back. Now, I can fully embrace what I’ve built – something strong, something truly mine – and move forward with confidence.
What This Means for You
If you’re reading this, maybe there’s something in your life that’s shifting too.
Maybe you’re holding onto something that feels less stable than it once was. Or maybe you’re facing a transition – whether in your career, relationships, or even within yourself – and wondering if you should fight to keep things as they are.
What if, instead of trying to fix what’s crumbling, you allowed yourself to step back and see it for what it is?
What if, instead of asking How do I get this back to how it was before? you asked:
What is this making space for?
Sometimes, letting go isn’t about giving up. It’s about realising that some things were never meant to stay the same. And the sooner we accept that, the sooner we can focus on what comes next.
So if you’re standing at the edge of your own crumbling balcony, ask yourself:
- What am I trying to hold onto that might already be slipping away?
- What would happen if I stopped trying to fix it?
- What could I build if I let go of what no longer serves me?
Because maybe the landslide isn’t here to take something from you.
Maybe it’s here to make space for something even more solid.
Have you ever had a dream that felt like a message?
What do you think it was trying to tell you?
I’d love to hear in the comments.
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