Alone Forever? An Introvert's Dream

A Dream Record:

"The Jade Pool" or "The Pool of Desire"

Image by Alma Phelps

For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed consistently. What's more, I almost never forget any dream I have. Often, my dreams are outlandish, narrative-driven gibberish, and/or clear attempts by my mind to process real-life events.

Last year (2025), I had the following dream during a period of emotional turbulence. What interested me was how coherent the narrative was, which you'll see transcribed nearly exactly as it really unfolded below.

In this recorded dream, it seems as though my mind and even soul are trying to come to grips with what they truly desire. What is bliss? How would I choose to spend eternity, if given an option? And do we really know what's best for us as we sift between who we are and what we actually need?

I grappled with these questions after my dream, and I find myself wrestling with them again now. The jade pool is where these questions first surfaced with surprising clarity.

* * *

I perch at the edge of an unknown pool, one foot dangling over the water. Swirls of silver mist wreathe my toes, cool and beckoning. My grip on the limestone coping falters. I descend into gentle warmth.

The water envelops me like maternal arms. I feel chosen. Free. Everything is visible in the serene stillness, as lucid as a waking dream.

The scent of wet stone perfumes the air. Around me, pale walls set with sconces flicker out soft golden light. Below me, deep green jade tiling shimmers for several hundred feet in all directions.

I am submerged up to my shoulders but feel no pressure at my neck. I push out into the pool's center. In doing so, I hope to find my own. I don't expect to be disappointed.

There is a feeling in this pool like no other I can describe. It presses, guides, and excites me. It hushes the loud chattering of my nervous system as if to say, "There is another way to exist."

In this room, I know that I am dead. I passed a while ago, in fact. For whatever reason, which I do not question, I appeared here after departing the mortal plane. The pool is a parallel dimension of divine craftsmanship. Everything from its ornamental masonry to its tranquil silence suggests cosmic design; I am surely not among the living.

I don't dwell on this. I've no reason to think or care. I relax onto my back, letting the water carry me without my impetus. The pool decides now. I subject myself to its blissful solitude.

My eyes remain open. The only movement they track is the barely perceptible waving of sconce flames, which illuminate the stone walls that house me. A dark roof arches overhead.

It's warm in here, but not too warm. I am not unusually comfortable, only remarkably unwound. My heart drums a perfect rhythm. My lungs draw air steadily, without a rush. The light feeling in my limbs and the total absence of aches and pains in my flesh tell me my body now exists in a state of tensionlessness.

I am perfect. I do not care what I look like, nor about my body floating in its exposed state. I am me. My mind quiets. Noise has given way to the soothing shape of sound. I don't trace or analyze it. I am content to exist in this place that neither asks anything of me nor issues demands.

How lovely to be dead and to have come here, I think. No one will bother me for all eternity.

As if in answer to my thought, a door opens on the far side of the room. I didn't even know a door was there.

White light, pure and intense, spills over the threshold and into the pool. I stand up, shielding my eyes, and notice three silhouettes waiting for me on the other side of the door.

It's my little brother and my parents. I admit that in my enjoyment of being alone, I forgot that I had such familial ties. Seeing them stirs feelings that were also forgotten once I stepped into this pool and let it claim me.

"Sister?" My brother strolls into my chamber of peace.

"Hey, little bro. What are you doing here?"

My brother averts his eyes from my body and says, "I came to tell you that you have a choice."

"A choice?" I say.

"Yeah. To be alone here forever, where you'll never be interrupted, irritated, or overstimulated again, and can live in unending solitude. Or..." He gestures to himself and my parents. "You can join us and the rest of humanity in eternity together."

I pause, weighing his words. "And if I want one or the other now and then?"

My brother shakes his head. "Sorry, Sis. It's only one for all eternity. Make your choice."

No pressure, huh? I think.

I gaze at the pool and its inviting warmth. I think of the way it holds me. I think of my love for reflection and my need to dwell apart from prying eyes.

To be alone is a gift.

If I stay here, I know I will exist in eternal serenity, content in my own company and unbroken in my meditation. But…

I look back at my brother standing patiently at the edge of the pool. My parents are smiling from the doorway. The light they're partially blocking is so bright.

Alone forever, or being part of something? Love, joy, and belonging—or eternal self-containment?

To commune or not to commune?

I make my decision. I leave the pool, clothe myself in a towel, and take my brother's hand. He leads me to the door. We're all smiling now.

I take one last look at the pool that held me so tenderly, me and my delicate mind, heart, and spirit that yearned for solace on Earth. I realize now that while the pool served its purpose, it can never hold me with the same amount of love as the people who care for me the most.

"Goodbye," I whisper, but I'm unable to feel wistful about this exchange.

My brother's hand in mine and my parents' arms about my shoulders are so much warmer than the water ever was.

*** END DREAM ***

Well… did my dream self (and my true self, when all my introversion is said and done) make the right choice? What would you have chosen?

This dream reminded me that, for all my assertions that solitude is bliss—and for all the times I've needed alone time to recover, recharge, and self-regulate, per my temperamental wiring—I remain a relational being.

To live chronically alone, never interrupted in your thoughts or challenged, never cared for by someone else or able to give care, is unbearable. I find that alone time is just for a time; it's a pause button between me and the next social scene.

Alone time should not be "alone forever," if I can help it.

I'm made for more than that. We all are, if we're honest.