The visualization chamber was a wide white room with intense lighting and six large screens lining the walls. Aside from the screens, the only other objects were a pair of wireless headphones and a sleek office chair.

I sat on the chair and picked up the headphones. I immediately noticed that they had six distinct channels. As I switched through them, I realized each one reflected a different desire:

1. Friends and family
2. Well-being
3. Professional fulfillment
4. Art and creativity
5. Spirituality
6. Love

I put on the headphones and the room dimmed. I let the question settle: What do I want?

One of the screens turned on, showing blurry black-and-white images. As I moved through the channels, I asked myself the same question. One by one, the screens came alive.

I kept focusing on my desires, hoping the quality of the images would improve, but it didn’t. After several unsuccessful attempts, I felt a presence in the room, very light but unmistakable.

Thanks for coming, I said. Something’s not working.

This is the place where creativity and self-belief thrive without boundaries. You just need to reconnect with your inner magic, replied my intuition.

She gestured toward the tiny specks trembling across one of the images. I recognized that familiar static that creeps in whenever the mind hesitates: doubt.

I held my intuition’s hand and tried to quiet my logical mind. As I released my self-imposed barriers, the images began to sharpen. Soon the resolution was crisp, but not a spark of color appeared.

I went through everything again, searching for any trace of doubt, but found none. Am I doing something wrong? I asked her. She remained silent, then gestured toward my pocket.

I reached into my coat and found a small mirror. I opened it and sighed before saying, I need your help.

My reflection smiled softly before shifting into an adolescent and then into a child.

I talked with my inner child for a while, until I finally said, You’re safe. I’ve got you. What do you need?

I just need you to choose me, she whispered before fading away.

She was right. My dreams weren’t meant to be defined by others. I asked myself a different question: Why do I want this?

As I reshaped the dream with my true desires, the screens lit up with color, except for one: professional fulfillment.

Something’s off. I looked at my intuition. Call him, she said.

Jiga, is this really my dream or is it yours?

I believe you already know the answer, a hoarse voice replied. He was sitting on the upper edge of the screen.

I rewatched the film: recognition, titles, admiration—pieces that didn’t belong to my true self. I cleared the screen and tried again, this time letting my emotions lead.

I felt my heart open, and new images emerged. I kept my eyes closed to stay focused; when I opened them again, Jiga was gone and all six screens were glowing in high resolution and full color.

I turned to my intuition. As she nodded, the images rose from their screens and merged into a single cube. A few tears escaped as it dissolved, and the room brightened around me.