When I was a child I had a recurring nightmare.
I am in the elevator – we live in a block of flats, on the 5th floor of a 7-floor building.
My mother has forbidden me to use the elevator alone, so I’m nervous. I push button 5, the elevator starts its journey with a squeak.
… 2 … 3 … 4 … (what if it doesn’t stop) … 5 (please stop!) … 6 (oh no, I’m not allowed to go further)… 7 (help!) … 8 …. 9 … (I wake up in my own screaming).
The 8th floor was an impossible thought for a boy who lived in a 7-floor house. Perhaps I was afraid of growing up in a dangerous and uncertain world.
Later I learned that life offers a new 8th floor on a daily basis. And you have to dare to climb up.
(reflect alone) Which thought seems impossible for you right now? What is the 8th floor that’s inviting you? (start dialogue) Do you have any friends that live on the 8th floor? Or 9th? Go and ring their doorbell.