I remember that when I was little I realized I could control my dreams sometimes. I was running through empty space, but unfortunately I was running very slowly and this huge monster was chasing me.
My feet felt as though they were weighed down by heavy weights, I could barely catch my breath and I thought about what would happen to me if I stopped, seeing as I felt like I could not go on. Then I realized that there was no point in running; that this was my dream and that in my dream I could control what happens. So I stopped, turned around, held out my small 5-year-old hand to the monster and told him: “I’m not afraid of you – this is my dream, and what happens in my dream is all up to me!”
Since then, 21 years have passed, and now I have someone by my side who watches over my dreams. And if the monster comes again, we’ll just scream at the top of our lungs.