The Waterfall and the Roof

In this episode of Cuppa Terrific, Sheree continues the Seasonal Ascent with a dream that unfolds in two distinct movements — one grounded in care and waiting, the other expansive and cosmic in perspective.

The episode opens with a dream set in a flower shop, where stone flowers, planting bulbs, and caretaking converge around themes of rest, readiness, and timing. From there, the dream shifts into a bird’s-eye view of the world, where sprites descend through a cosmic waterfall, their life courses seemingly established with ease — while one figure wanders below, carrying a roof that doesn’t yet fit anywhere.

Through gentle reflection and symbolic exploration, this episode sits with a deeply human question:
 What happens when we know what we want before the world is ready to receive it?

Rather than rushing toward answers, this conversation honors waiting as a meaningful season — one that asks for attention, patience, and perspective rather than force.

The episode includes a quiet tarot reflection on The Hanged Man, a card that speaks to pause, suspension, and insight gained through stillness.

If you’ve ever felt early for your own life, out of place in time, or caught between knowing and becoming, this episode offers companionship — not solutions.

In This Episode

• A two-part dream exploring care, timing, and perspective
• Stone flowers, planting bulbs, and resting inside the work
• A cosmic waterfall and the illusion of effortless life paths
• The experience of carrying something meaningful before it has a place
• A listener reflection for those who feel “early” rather than lost
• Tarot reflection: The Hanged Man

Reflection Questions

• What am I carrying right now that already feels complete, even if it can’t be placed yet?
• Where in my life might waiting be an act of care rather than avoidance
• What part of me is asking to rest before it moves again?
• If I trusted timing instead of urgency, what might soften?

☕ If this episode resonated, you can find a quieter companion reflection and behind-the-scenes content on Patreon.

Thank you for listening, and for walking this ascent slowly.

Chapters

• 1:10 Cocoa Bomb And Seasonal Ascent
• 2:35 The Flower Shop Dream
• 6:50 Stone Blooms And Caretaking
• 10:15 Resting In The Place Of Growth
• 12:20 The Cosmic Waterfall And Sprites
• 16:20 The Roof With No House
• 19:20 Humans, Timing, And The Hanged Man
• 23:15 Questions For The Early Arriver

Transcript

Sheree: 1:10

And welcome back to another episode of Cuppa Terrific. I'm your host, Sheree. And if you're new here, grab a cup of whatever you like, something warm, hopefully, and go ahead and settle in. Tonight I am drinking one of those lovely cocoa balms that my kids got me for Christmas. It's one of those Harry Potter cocoa bombs, and it is pretty good. I made sure to give myself an extra healthy dose of those mini marshmallows, so it's very sugary and delicious. So it's extra sweet. I'm treating myself tonight. And as a reminder, this season we're moving through what I'm calling a seasonal ascent. I'm not rushing toward answers, but learning how timing, patience, and perspective shape our inner lives. Tonight's episode comes from a dream I had recently. Actually, I had it last night, and there are two dreams layered inside one another, so a nested dream. And they left me sitting with a question that felt very human. What do we do when we know what we want to build, but nothing around us seems ready to receive it yet? Dream 1 The flower shop. I'm in a flower shop with my mom, shopping for bulbs to plant. Not flowers already in bloom, but the kind that need time underground before they grow. The shop is arranged like a garden. Stone pillars rise around a small pond, and near the water are displays of flowers beautiful, detailed and solid. As I get closer, I realize they're made of stone. They look real, but they're cold and unmoving. My mom approaches me with a shopping cart. As she walks, she begins to sway slightly, like she's losing her balance. She looks tired, more tired than she should be. Then I remember that I've recently given her medication and I gently tell her to sit down and rest while I keep shopping. She agrees and settles nearby. A gardener appears and begins helping me. As I move through the shop, I point out flowers I'm drawn to, shapes and designs that catch my eye. The gardener agrees with me each time, but when I ask about the availability, none of them are in stock. Eventually, I feel too tired, and I lie down and fall asleep right there in the store, with my mom resting nearby. Dream 2. I'm no longer inside the shop. I have a bird's eye view over the world, as if I'm hovering far above it. Below me are towns and cities spread across the landscape. Small magical sprites move through these places, flitting from one area to another, busy with their lives. They're building, arranging, establishing themselves as they go. Above everything is a vast waterfall pouring down from the cosmos toward the earth. It's enormous, luminous, and constant. A steady flow from above into the world below. As the sprites descend through the waterfall, they pass through one of four colored streams. Each color seems to guide them naturally, effortlessly into their place in the world. Nearby stands a father spirit, watching the scene unfold. He looks into the falling water and quietly remarks to himself how simple it is, how all a sprite needs to do is to pass through the right color and be set on its course for life. My attention is then drawn to one figure moving below. This one is carrying the roof of a house. A complete roof held carefully as if it matters deeply. He moves from place to place, trying to find where it belongs. But none of the houses match. No matter where he goes, the roof doesn't fit. He seems stressed and confused, wandering with his burden while all the other frig the other sprites continue on their way, confused and stressed just like he is. Okay. So in the first dream, I'm in this flower shop with my mom, and we're shopping for these different flowers. And the types of flowers specifically that we're shopping for happen to be bulb type flowers. And bulb plants, you have to generally you have to plant them like most plants. You have to plant them underground. Um, and you have to plant them in the season ahead of the season that they are going to flower. So bulbs, you plant them like if you want them to come up in the fall. Generally, you plant them in the spring before, or if you want them to come up in the spring, you would plant them in the fall before. And this is a process you simply just can't rush. It's just a natural process. Everything is contained inside of that bulb, and it's gonna come forward. You can trust that it's going to happen, but there's just a season for it, you have to be patient. Around the shop are flower displays made of stone arranged near a pond. They're beautiful but lifeless. I can admire them, but I can't take them home and grow them. And when I think about it, the stone flowers feel like ideas that have hardened too early. Forms without growth. They look finished, but they can't change. My mom is with me pushing a shopping cart, and as she begins to sway, she looks exhausted. I remember that recently I had given her medication, and as I look at her and I see that she's swaying, I tell her she needs to take a rest, and uh I'll continue shopping for the both of us. Now, this moment feels like it's the heart of this dream. And the reason why is because it demands my attention, this caretaking moment. Everything else seems like the dream going into it is about growth, the action of growing, going to the flower store, I'm gonna purchase flowers, gonna go home, plant flowers to grow flowers, but that's not what the dream's actually about. The dream becomes about taking stock of what is going on in your life currently. I attend to my mother, I pause the growth and tell her to take a rest. Tend to life and what needs to be tended to in the moment. A gardener comes to help me. She agrees with what I notice and what I'm drawn to, but none of those flowers are available yet. And I find that's comforting because there's nothing wrong with me, there's nothing wrong with my choice or how excited I am for the growth, but it's just not the right season. It's not time yet to be excited for all this growth. It in fact is a time to be patient and to wait. And so I furthermore into the dream find myself getting tired. And I fall asleep right there in the store with my mom nearby. I fall asleep in the place of growth, and I rest inside of this place of growth as if I'm surrendering to it to be at peace and to pause. And that's when the dream changes again. I move away from a dream about action, from a place where I can identify with my mother and myself, and I move into a dream that's about perspective. Um, this dream becomes more of a doorway, and I'm moving into that bird's eye view, and I'm no longer inside any shop, but I have this bird's eye view over the world. Towns and cities stretch out below me, and I watch small magical sprites moving through them, building their lives. Above it all is this vast waterfall, and it's pouring down from the cosmos and it spills out across the earth. And it doesn't flow upward, it goes in one direction, one movement. It's like uh the origin of life from potential, the you know, the form of life, the creation of life. It's it's how these sprites are coming from the cosmos to earth. It's like their birth process. And as the sprites descend through the waterfall, they brush against one of these four colored streams, and that contact, it it just the contact with each of these colors, it establishes their life course. And in the dream, it's just this really efficient, clean process that's so simple, it's actually quite beautiful. The system a father spirit is standing nearby. This, and he comments quietly to himself how funny it is that all a spirit need do is just pass through this stream and just brush up against this color, and poof, their whole life course is set for them. Another thing he's doing, he's not instructing anyone, he's just observing the system from the outside, which is really nice. It's nice that he's not giving instruction, but yet just leading with curiosity. It invites me to ask questions. It allows me to look with new eyes on these little people. And then there's one figure I notice at this point who doesn't belong. He's carrying the roof of the house, and he's trying to find a place where it fits. And nowhere he goes can he find a place where it matches. The roof, which is the top of a structure, you know, the roof. He's trying to find a place where it fits. The roof, the part of a house that protects and that completes a house. Here it is in his arms, and it there's no house beneath it. He already knows what kind of life he wants to build. He just doesn't have the right conditions yet. At first, he looks like a sprite, but his struggle feels different to me. And I realize this isn't a sprite at all. This is a human. Sprites inner life already aligned. Their path is assigned on the way down this beautiful waterfall, and all they need to do is touch one of these colors, and poof, their life path is set. But unfortunately, humans, we don't get this luxury. No. We descend into life without guarantees, and we're carrying pieces of our future before the ground is ready to hold them. That can look like confusion or being out of place or feeling like you're late to your own life. Or maybe it's not confusion at all. Maybe it's just timing. You know, as I was sitting with these dreams and doing the analysis, one tarot card kept returning to me. It was the hanged man. Now this card isn't about punishment or failure. Rather, it's about pause. Again, about timing. You see, the character on the front of the card is being suspended between what he knows and what hasn't arrived quite yet. The hang man he knows what matters to him. His values are intact. But you see, the world hasn't quite caught up. So he waits, not passively, but attentively. He's present to it. He's aware. He's taking stock of what's going on around him. He waits, though. In tarot, this card often appears when forward movement isn't the work that need done. What needs to be done, though, is perspective. And that feels deeply connected to these dreams. To resting in the flower shop, to watching lives unfold from above, to carrying something important before there's a place to set it down. If you're in a season where you know what you want, but the timing feels off, the hanged man reminds us that waiting isn't wasted time. Sometimes the pause and reflection is the path. I want to take a few minutes here to speak directly to anyone who feels like they might be early for their own life. Not lost, not confused about what they want, just early or out of place. I've been there. I know what that feels like. Like you know before you're you're ready, or life is ready for you. You may already know the shape of the life you want to build you want to build, the the kind of work or the kind of relationships, the kind of contribution or meaning that you're longing for. And yet when you look al when you look around you, um it nothing quite fits together. The ground just isn't ready or the timing feels off, and all these pieces just don't seem to recognize each other yet. And I can tell you that that experience can feel incredibly isolating because from the outside he can because from the outside it often looks like nothing is happening, but from inside something very real is being carried. Like in this dream that something was a roof for me. It's a finished piece, a protective piece, even for me. Something that already knew what it was meant to be, even without a place for it to land yet. And if that image resonates with you, I want to offer you a few questions. Not for you to necessarily answer or to solve, but again simply to sit with, just to think about. What am I carrying right now that feels complete even if it can't be placed yet? Where in my life might waiting be an act of care rather than avoidance? What part of me is asking the to rest before it moves again? If I trusted timing instead of urgency, what might soften? You don't need to answer any of these. Sometimes the work isn't to decide, it's to notice what you're already holding. Speaking of waiting, it's one of the hardest experiences for us to make meaning of. Our culture treats waiting as uh that proof that you're worth something. We live in a culture that treats movement rather as proof that you're worth something. If you're not making something, creating something, um, moving, going forward, you know, the doing of things, it can feel like you're doing something wrong or you're lazy. So when life puts us in a pause, especially when we didn't choose because we're sick or we're not capable or whatever, this can trigger a lot of fear. Fear that we're falling behind, that we've missed out, we're missing our moment, or that somehow others have gotten some kind of instruction that we didn't get. But our dreams often challenge that story. In this dream, nothing was actually broken. The bulbs were alive under the ground, the roof already existed, and the waterfall still was flowing. What was missing wasn't purpose. What was missing was the alignment. And alignment can't be forced. You can't rush the season. You can't pressure the ground to receive what is not ready to be planted in it yet. It's not time yet. It won't it won't grow well. That doesn't mean that you're stuck. It means something in you is still listening, waiting for the right moment. Not all waiting is stagnation. Some waiting is just attentiveness. Some waiting is devotion to timing rather than fear. And you make that distinction. Sometimes waiting is the most honest response to knowing what you want and respecting that the world just hasn't caught up to you yet. In this season of ascent, I'm learning that not every step upward looks like movement. Sometimes it looks like tending to what's tired. Sometimes it looks like admiring what isn't ready yet. And sometimes it looks like carrying a roof with no house in sight, trusting that eventually the ground will rise up to meet it. Thank you everyone for sharing this space with me. If this reflection resonated with you, you can find a quieter companion piece over on Patreon. But until next time, take care of what you're tending and trust the season that you're in. And as always, may your cups overflow.