Until now, I was sure that my house had only two rooms. One room was called Fear and the second, Aggression. I moved from one room to the other. In Aggression, I would get angry, loud and dominate others. I would show my teeth and claws to frighten away any danger coming my way. I2n Fear, I would collapse, hiding under a blanket, unable to move or make a sound. I was invisible there, nearly dead. For many years I lived between these two small rooms, and I was convinced that this was how my house was built. I was certain these were the possibilities of my life and my world. While living in this small house, I yearned to find out what my dreams were. If I asked in Fear, the answer came only from fear. If I asked in Aggression, the answer came only from there. How could I get the real answers if there were only ever those two small rooms of survival? Dreams were not accessible in this space. While moving forward in the process of becoming real, I began to notice doors appearing, calling me out of the rooms I know so well. Eventually, I became uncertain about size of my own house. It seemed suddenly to be much bigger. It even appeared to have many floors, with balconies and terraces and a myriad of spaces. I have realised that my house might actually be limitless—expanding in all directions—and I would like to open new doors and reveal more of those missing parts of my being. All I need is the courage to leave the well-known rooms of Fear and Aggression.