inner spirit

Several years ago, I met my inner spirit (at least I think I did).  I was in the land of dreams, walking down a hallway of a dilapidated elementary school.  Many frustrated teachers stormed out of a glowing room.  They warned me to stay away from the room.  I didn’t listen.  I stepped right into the room, and there sat a little boy with brownish skin and long black hair.  He was the only kid in a classroom of empty, broken desks.  He had given all the other teachers so much trouble, refusing to listen to their ways, methods, and formulas, but with me he was kindhearted, gentle, and welcoming.  He smiled, and then motioned for me to come closer.  He told me in a soft soothing voice that his name was “Ghost Warrior,” and then, in the next moment, I returned to reality.