Seed Dreams

This morning I woke up thinking about working at Safeway.

Not because I want to work at Safeway.

Because my brain was processing the residual grief over Tatsuda’s.

It was a substitute fantasy.

A familiar rhythm.

A store.

A place to belong.

A place to be connected to community.

I worked out with my trainer first thing and told him all about it.

He laughed — kindly — because he understood exactly why my mind went there.

And then he highly discouraged it.

Because he knows it’s not me.

He explained that I couldn’t replicate what I built at Tatsuda’s inside a big corporate structure.

That what I did there wasn’t a job description — it was stewardship.

Vision.

Autonomy.

Creation.

I already knew that.

But it’s nice when someone else confirms what your soul has been whispering.

He said, “You’re a builder. You need to create something. Grow something. Something you can shape and pour yourself into.”

And then he started dreaming.

A large physical fitness wellness center.

The second he said it, I felt that internal click — the one that happens when someone names something that has already been living inside you.

I told him about the conversations I’ve had over the years about building a healing retreat center. Though I’m not in love with the word healing anymore.

It wouldn’t just be a healing center.

It would be a whole-person transformation center.

Physical wellness.

For those who need healing, space for that.

Spiritual connection.

Connection to self, to others, to nature.

Life coaching workshops.

Breath work.

Nervous system regulation.

A Nordic spa — hot and cold pools, saunas, massage, deep exhale energy.

Fitness programs. Structured and strong.

He told me he’d be my Director of Fitness.

Apparently, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.

We talked a bit longer and then got into the workout.

It was hard. And I had measurable wins.

At the end, I laid on the floor in Savasana — corpse pose — which is meant to be restful.

Instead of relaxing, my brain got to work.

Location options:

Easily accessible but private.

Ocean nearby.

Paths through the woods.

Architecture:

Can we create an outdoor experience inside?

Should the Nordic pools be outside?

Or enclosed in glass deep in the rainforest?

What would the finishes feel like?

Wood? Stone? Warm light?

Then my brain moved to capital expenses.

How much would this cost?

Investors.

Business plan.

Who helps me build this?

What do I need to research?

And then I had to change positions.

I haven’t thought about it much since.

There are other, more pressing matters.

But it’s fun to dream.

Especially when someone plants a seed that echoes dreams you’ve already been carrying.

And it makes me laugh — the way my brain wanders when I’m supposed to be relaxing. Supposed to be simply breathing.

Instead, it builds.