A couple of mornings ago I woke up in a funk of my own grumpiness.

A sinus headache I’d had for a few days was proving difficult to shake off.

A cold winter greyness was pouring in from the outside, and I sensed in my heart a definite hint of the blues.

I was finding it difficult to rise with gratitude.

I sighed, pushed myself out of bed, then I showered, got dressed, and went into the kitchen to begin the morning routine. All the while I navigated an intensifying inner scowl.

Suddenly I felt my son, Ezra, sneak up from behind me and wrap his arms around my waist.

I turned around to face him, and he looked up at me with such surprisingly joyous radiance, my heart couldn’t help but soften a bit.

(Ezra is not usually a morning person, so it was an extra special treat to find him so happy.)

“Goodmorning!” he smiled at me.

I smiled back at him quietly, “Goodmorning, Love.”

And then he burst out, “Mom, I just had the BEST dream!”

I met him in wonder: “You did?!”

He nodded exuberantly, “It was seriously, like, one of my most favorite dreams I’ve EVER had. It was soooo cute!! Oh my God!” His eyes were wide, clearly still seeing the dream in vivid display.

Intrigued, I pried, “What was it?! Can you tell me about it?!”

He said, “YES. We were deep in the forest—you, me and Arayla—and all of a sudden there were these beautiful tigers! A little family of tigers! It was a mom and her two cubs!! They were SO cute! And they followed us home, and came inside with us!”

Astonished, I asked, “They did?! They came inside??”

He continued, “Yes! They were powerful, but they weren’t dangerous. And we were all just loving them and playing with them in our house! And Arayla was taking care of one of the cubs, and I was taking care of the other cub, and YOU were taking care of the mama tiger! And they were all just soooo cute!”

Suddenly feeling the profundity and healing magnificence of his dream, my heart cracked all the way open and tears sprung to my eyes.

I repeated softly, “You guys were taking care of the little tigers, and I was taking care of the mama tiger?”

Ezra nodded enthusiastically, “Yep, you were. We were taking care of all of them.”

I asked, “And even the mama tiger was cute?”

Ezra said: “VERY cute! And very playful!”

I hugged my boy tight and close, kissing the top of his head, then kissing his warm, happy face.

Fully receiving the medicine of his dream, I let out a laugh alongside a deep sigh of relief.

I let myself be thoroughly moved and reassured and healed by my son’s dream.

With smiling tears, I said, “I love that dream SO much, Ezra. What a powerful gift of a dream! Thank you for dreaming it, and for sharing it with me. I’m so grateful. I love how we knew how to bring the tigers home and play with them and care for them. I love how you guys took care of those little tigers, and how I knew just how to care for the mama…”

Ezra beamed up at me, deeply pleased with himself and his potent dream medicine.

My little shaman.

And with that, my entire funk lifted and my headache vanished.

I mean—how could I feel anything but blessed and comforted, knowing the tigers are so truly loved and welcome?

I couldn’t. The blues didn’t stand a chance.

Winter funks begone. There’s a Dreamer in the house.