I dreamt that I was snorkeling and beneath me were some sharks. I was wasn’t too afraid of them and dived down beyond the level of the sharks, deeper until I came to a ledge near the sandy seabed. I swam underneath the ledge and arrived into a large chamber where I could breathe. Someone else was with me but I cannot remember who they were. In the chamber were terracotta roof tiles, stacked up. There were tonnes of them, tonnes and tonnes. Enough to fill a large room from floor to ceiling. I knew that I had take them up to the surface one by one. But I knew that it was something that I could do and that I just need to get on with it.
—
I told this to a friend. He asked: What do the tiles represent?
I thought for a few days.
—
I used to take Karate lessons in the gym opposite the complex where I used to live with my parents.
The Karate teacher was called Ramon, he was from the Philippines and incredibly strong, neck like an ox, chest muscles like two big sofa cushions. I looked up to him.
He used to tell us stories of the street gangs in Manilla and how he had to fight to protect himself. He’d say: Learn to protect yourself, never get cornered.
He had had a tough background and there was something spiritual about him.
One day, to get my next belt, we had to break a tile. We placed a tile on two bricks and placed some white cloth on top. I was only eight at the time but I had learnt the confidence to break the tile.
Mind over matter, he taught me.
Hence the tiles.
Shortly afterwards, Ramon had to go back to the Philippines and I never saw him again and I missed him so very much. I gave up Karate shortly afterwards and unfortunately I haven’t yet found a guide like him since.
Hence the dream.