You know that feeling when your soul hasn’t fully docked back into your body yet? Murag naa pa kos laing planeta. Weh? So, I just woke up from a nap before my shift and for a solid 47 seconds I had no idea what year it was, what day it was, or what dimension I was currently operating in.
But here’s the weird part.
I was DREAMING. And not the usual floating, falling, being-chased-by-an-unknown-entity kind of dream. I was literally conceptualizing a coffee shop. Like full-on concept. Layout. Branding. Workflow. (No, I will not discuss it today. Gatekeeping sa ko gamay.) My brain was troubleshooting supply chains and customer flow while I was drooling on my pillow.
And this wasn’t the first time.
The other day I dreamt about fixing a recipe. I was adjusting ingredients, balancing flavors, trying to make it “just right.” And here’s the kicker… I could TASTE it. I could SMELL it. I always thought you couldn’t smell or taste in dreams but there I was, calibrating sweetness and acidity like some MasterChef subconscious version of myself.
Ngano ni oieee?
Apparently, even when I’m unconscious, my brain is still in problem-solving mode. It’s like she clocked in without me. “Shift started, Ma’am.” Meanwhile my physical body is face down on the bed.
And I don’t know if this is hormones, ADHD, perimenopause, caffeine residue, or some cosmic WiFi upgrade happening on Earth right now. (Don’t worry, I’m not fully boarding the spaceship.) But lately there’s this sense that something is… activating.
Now before you roll your eyes and say, “Maria, ayaw na pud anang starseed-starseed,” hear me out.
I’m not out here claiming I’m from the Pleiades. Calm down. But I do sometimes wonder why certain people feel wired differently. Why some of us can’t just exist quietly. Why our brains insist on creating, fixing, designing, imagining... even in sleep.
Maybe “starseed” and “indigo child” are just poetic ways of describing neurodivergent, hyper-creative, spiritually sensitive humans. Maybe “light healing” is just our nervous system trying to regulate itself in a crazy world. Maybe the awakening people talk about isn’t mystical... it’s collective burnout forcing everyone to rethink how we live.
See? Relatable. No crystals required. (Although essential oils are welcome. #TeamOilbularya pa rin this 2026!)
What if dreams are just our subconscious board meetings?
During the day we’re distracted by notifications, deadlines, hormones, responsibilities, laundry. But when we sleep, the CEO Brain finally gets uninterrupted strategy time. So she goes, “Okay team, here’s the coffee shop concept. Also, that recipe? Too much salt. Fix it.”
It reminds me of that old imagination post where I talked about visualizing and using the mind like a muscle. Creativity grows when you use it. Even in sleep apparently. The brain does not retire. She just shifts departments.
And you know what? It made me happy.
Because for a while there I thought maybe adulthood dulled me. That maybe bills and spreadsheets and amortizations and client revisions replaced the wild idea factory I used to have. But no. She’s still there. She just schedules meetings at 9PM nap time now.
So what does this have to do with #ChooseDay?
Everything.
Today I choose to believe that being disoriented is not dysfunction. It’s recalibration. That dreaming of businesses and recipes means I’m still engaged with life. That even when I feel tired or overwhelmed before a shift, my inner world is alive and building things.
And speaking of shifts…
After I fully rebooted (coffee in hand, obviously), I opened my task list. Client deliverables. Transcriptions. Automation tweaks. Content drafts. And instead of feeling like “Haaay trabaho na pud,” I thought… this is also problem-solving. This is also creation.
Same brain. Different platform.
Whether I’m conceptualizing a cafรฉ in dreamland or organizing workflows, it’s still me building something. And I get to choose how I frame it.
ChooseDay is not about toxic positivity. It’s about micro-decisions. I choose curiosity over confusion. I choose fascination over fear. I choose to laugh at my cosmic brain instead of diagnosing myself as malfunctioning.
Maybe we’re not awakening into something mystical.
Maybe we’re just remembering that we’re wired to create.
And if my brain wants to open a coffee shop in REM sleep while my body naps before my daily grind, then sige. Padayon ta. Let her cook. Let her brew.
Now excuse me while I get back to work before my subconscious files an HR complaint.















