About 13 or maybe 15 years ago or maybe more, I was in a loveless relationship with a woman I thought I was in love with. We were in our 3rd maybe 4th year out of 6 ½ and I had a dream one night that has never left me.
I walked into a hair salon off a random city street. I was alone walking in and alone when I walked in with the exception of a stunninngly beautiful woman who looked to be Somali or Ethiopian. She was quite slender and tall and had a large afro hair do. She wore a skirt with some kind of African print on it and wore a loose beige shirt. She sat me in a barbers chair and turned me toward a mirror by my shoulders. In that moment, I knew I could trust her to cut my hair, which oddly, I had only let my then partner cut and no one else in the duration of our relationship.
I suddenly realized that I wasn’t really in a hair salon but rather a psychic. She was there to read me my fortune. I looked in her eyes through the mirror as she gazed in mine. She put her hands on my shoulders as she played with my hair gently and then looked right into me and calmly and casually said “I am Savanna. I am your fate. Your destiny.”
In the dream I wasn’t confused or bewildered by what she said. Rather, I was clear and focused, as though I understood. I followed her lead as she led me away from the chair and took me into a back room beyond the hair salon.
She pulled back a curtain and all I saw was a large, empty cement warehouse lit like a film set furnished by a single plastic fold out table. The kind that you usually see at street festivals. White tops with fold out legs. She said nothing else but waved her arm towards the emptiness as though to say “Go ahead.”
All I remember at that point was realizing that she was giving me this room to fill. With what, I don’t know. She stood by me with calm and grace. A beautiful woman she was. It was her offering to me. Savanna.
I remember waking up feeling a sense of calm but being almost afraid to tell my then girlfriend the dream. She was a jealous woman. The kind of jealousy that comes from insecurity that even an imaginary woman will be a threat.
I eventually told her and she made a face. She said “SHE is your fate and destiny? Who is this Savanna?”
I didn’t know then and I have still to figure it out but all I know is that since the day I dreamt this dream, not a day goes by that I don’t think about it.
Some days I would convince myself that it was a real woman. Perhaps the love I was looking for. Other days, I would tell myself more literal things, like that I needed to go to a psychic to get answers. Other days, the paranoia in me would get the best of me and tell me that Savanna was a symbol of my death. Because of this, anytime I go on tour and drive through Savannah, Georgia, I don’t want to stop. I’m sure I’m going to get into a car crash or something will happen to me if I ever stay there. And don’t even talk to me about the Savana vans. If I was ever told to get into one of those, I think I may die of a heart attack on the spot.
And you wouldn’t believe how I almost lost my shit at noticing that an old barber I would pass by daily closed down and became a psychic reader shop front. Or how every single time I pass by a psychic store-front and one door down is a hair salon or barber. Pay attention. It’s unreal how many are right by each other.
Answers, I still have none. All I know is that there is something deep within me that tells me and has told me for almost 15 years that this dream means something more. Something about myself that I’m not sure how to understand. Something that one day I will wake to…or die to…and finally, find the answer.