Sitting in My Chair

In my waking dream, the first thing I saw was a big, cushioned, high back chair with black flower print. Let me back up some, because the chair formed out of a large smooth ball of clay... So the chair is black and flower printed, and now I'm looking up at an older version of myself, who is sitting in the chair, telling of dreams that were the stories of my youth that were long forgotten, but eventually remembered by my adult self and manifested into the reality of my older self, who is sitting in this amazing chair, made just for her, having a conversation with a crowd of people sitting at her feet, listening intently, all seeming to know her and the others around them. I suddenly long to sit with her in this seemingly comfortable chair, and in that moment of longing, I realize that the reason these dreamstories are so important, and the reason she shares them with this strange  group of familiar faces, is because she is me, they are my descendants, and this is their dream/story too...