Starting the Journey: Why Trains?
You know me, always trying to make sense of the weird stuff my brain does when I’m asleep. Lately, it’s been trains. Not just trains, but trains moving, trains stopping, trains on tracks I’ve never seen. It got me thinking: what the heck does this mean for where I’m going in life?
I decided to dive deep, not just read some cheesy dream interpretation book, but actually track when these dreams happened and what was going on in my real life at that very moment. I figured the best way to understand my own brain was to treat it like a long-term practice project—a self-assessment log.
The First Log Entry: Seeing the Tracks Clearly
About three months ago, I was stuck. Really stuck on a major career decision. Should I push for that promotion, which meant more travel and stress, or should I jump ship and try that freelance gig I’d been whispering about? The night I made the ‘pro-con’ list, the train dreams started.
The Dream: I was standing on a platform, watching a massive, old steam train pull away. I wasn’t on it. I felt this intense sense of missing out. The tracks stretched forever into a foggy distance.
- The Practice: I immediately logged this. I wrote down the feeling: regret, distance, opportunity lost.
- The Connection I Drew: Missing the train felt exactly like missing the moment to commit to the freelance life. The fear of leaving the ‘stable track.’
This encouraged me to stop dithering. The next day, I started setting up the basic legal framework for the freelance work. It was like the dream was shouting at me to stop watching and start moving.
Mid-Practice Checkpoint: The Fast-Moving Commuter
Then things got faster. I was hustling, burning the midnight oil on the new venture while juggling the old job. The pressure was real. The dreams changed.
The Dream: I was on a high-speed commuter train. Everything was a blur outside the window. I felt hurried, stressed, but also excited by the speed. The train was packed, everyone looked tired but focused.
The Practical Application: I realized the dream wasn’t just mirroring the stress; it was showing me the pace. I was moving too fast and risking burnout. The crowded train signaled that I wasn’t alone in this hustle, but I needed to find my own compartment, my own space within the chaos.
- I immediately pulled back on evening work.
- I blocked out specific ‘slow’ days where I only did maintenance tasks, not high-pressure creative work.
By slowing down the real train, the dream pace subsided. The dreams shifted from speed to structure, focusing more on the neat arrangement of seats and luggage racks, showing me I needed better organization.
The Final Phase: Switching Lines
The biggest insight came about a month ago, right after I officially resigned from the old job. That transition point was terrifying. Suddenly, I was entirely responsible for my direction.
The Dream: I was the one throwing the switch lever. I was standing next to the track, and I watched the train smoothly transition from one set of rails onto another, heading toward a completely different landscape—sunny mountains instead of grey city blocks.
The Big Takeaway: This wasn’t about being on the train or missing it; it was about controlling the direction. For years, I felt like the passenger. The moment I took the plunge into freelancing, my subconscious immediately put me in the role of the switch operator.
This dream reinforced my confidence in the decision. It didn’t predict success, but it validated that I had successfully taken charge of my own trajectory. If trains in my sleep mean my future direction, then watching myself actively choose the tracks was the clearest sign I needed.
So, if you’re dreaming of trains, don’t just ask what platform you’re on. Ask if you’re the one throwing the switch. That’s the real power move, and honestly, the best practice I’ve logged so far.
