I really want to get this down before it fades because it feels important.
In the dream I just had, I was seeking a man named Raavi. I had read about his work in Hypnosis, and found that he was nearby, so I wanted to talk to him. I found him in a room with a number of other people doing what looked like schoolwork. I asked someone if I was interrupting a class or something. He said no and asked if I was here to see someone. I spotted Raavi back in a corner and said I wanted to talk with him. He agreed to come talk with me. I introduced myself and told him we'd met once before at college, at the Student Christian Association. He didn't seem to remember me, but was more than willing to talk.
As I tried to explain why I was there, the reason for seing him just seemed to vanish from my brain. What's worse, I had some sort of attack. It became difficult to speak and I began shaking. I asked for a moment to compose myself, but it just got worse. Raavi said to let me touch his hand and he could help me. Helpless, I reached out my shaking hands to him. When he touched me, I felt a surge of energy and the world disappeared. All I could see was text. All I could hear was his voice talking to me calmly. I tried to look at him, but could not see anything but the text. I told him I was blind. He acknowledged and continued. Soon, my sight was restored, and I could function once again. There was Raavi, talking me back to reality.
I followed him back to his workspace as we continued talking, explaining that I was a hypnotist myself, but I still have a LOT to learn. Although I was able to speak with unusual lucidity, I became aware that I didn't even know how to ask for what I needed. I could only express my own shortcoming.
As I was talking, my gaze was fixed on a space beneath a cabinet that was leaning at a 45 degree angle to make its top easier to access. Beneath the base was a box of papers, itself having a corner cut at 45 degrees, which fit perfectly in the space. Raavi, meanwhile, was listening to me, staring straight ahead across the table where he was seated, while I sat on the floor looking at the box of papers.
This does not feel like the work of any of my dreamweavers. This was SO different from anything I've dreamed before. I feel it must be very important, but I do not know what it could mean.