Deja Vu Dream About Moving to Finland

Last summer, I visited Finland to complete important citizenship related paperwork. During that trip, I experienced signs that made me feel I was meant to live there more permanently.

Let me explain what I mean by "signs," because it’s not something many people experience. I’ve had these signs for over thirty years, possibly even longer, since my early twenties.

Here's how it works: I’m usually in new surroundings—places I haven’t visited before or where I haven’t been in a while. Suddenly, I come across a scene that reminds me of something from a recent dream. The dream itself doesn’t necessarily matter—sometimes it's fleeting, and I don’t even remember it—but when I see the scene, it feels like déjà vu. I’m instantly reminded of the dream because the scenery resembles something I saw in it.

You could call it "Déjà Vu Dream."

I’ve noticed that I often experience these dream déjà vu moments during transitional stages, like moving to a new country, city, school, or workplace.

For example, during my first visit to the United States, I experienced this when I rode the BART train. This trip occurred before I moved here permanently. As the train passed through a big city, I looked out the window and saw rooftops and clotheslines hanging over yards. Immediately, I was reminded of a dream I’d had. The image of the rooftops and clotheslines triggered the memory of the dream, as the scene before me was the same. In that moment, I thought, "I’m on the right path."

About a decade later, it happened again when I walked through the university campus in the United States, where I would start my studies in the fall semester. I was with my mom, and as we passed the soccer field and stadium, I realized that the soccer field was straight from a recent dream. Again, I felt like I was on the right path.

Later, when I moved to my new hometown after separating from my husband, right before starting a new job I’d already accepted, I had another déjà vu moment. On a low hillside, I saw stone steps, reminding me of my dream about my new job.

Then, this summer, while touring my hometown with my sister and niece, I experienced it three times in one day—something that had never happened before. We were on a riverboat from the city to the nearby archipelago. While waiting for the boat, I suddenly realized the little park where we were standing was from a dream. Later, while on the ship, we passed some newly built luxury apartments by the water—apartments I had never seen before. They had spaces for owners to park their boats. As soon as I saw them, I recognized them from a dream. The only difference was that in my dream, people took their boats to a manmade island with a fancy restaurant. In real life, there was no island or restaurant, but in the dream, it was there.

The last déjà vu moment of the day happened when we returned from the boat ride and my sister drove us across the city. We reached a hill near the eastern town center, and I was reminded of a dream. In that dream, I was on the phone in that exact part of town, trying to arrange for my sons to live with me in Finland. I was already there, renting an apartment while maintaining part-time connections to America, trying to make it all work.

It stayed with me. It felt like the universe was pointing me toward my next steps. I don’t take these signs lightly. From experience, they always show me something on the horizon, like: "This is the direction." And so, I trust them.

Two years ago, I went on a winter trip to Finland for the first time in over a decade. It was unexpected because I had neither the money nor the time with my hectic schedule. But then, I received a sign. The sign came first, and with it, the thought of visiting Finland was planted in my brain. I didn’t know how it would come to pass, but I felt it would. And against all odds, it did.

I’ll try to explain the sign, because spiritual experiences are usually odd, and this one is no exception.

I sometimes use disposable back warmers for back pain. They last 8 to 16 hours and help me during flare-ups. I’ve tried different brands, some with self-adhesive tape and others without. The ones without the tape are cheaper, so I ordered them and came up with a creative solution: I taped them directly to my skin using masking tape. It was hidden under my clothes, so I didn’t care what it looked like; no one could see it.

The sign came when I removed the pad and wrapped the blue masking tape around it, preparing to throw it away. The pouch was a white rectangle. As I held it in my hand, ready to toss it, I realized I had just created the Finnish flag.

"I’m going to Finland?" I thought. "Impossible."

But sure enough, a month later, I reserved the trip. Everything just fell into place.

After all the déjà vu experiences in Finland that July, by September, I was back in America, exhausted from my job. I was thinking about my future and the options available to me. I knew I had to write my story, but I also knew that my job would ensure I had no time for it. My job consumes all my free time, leaving no room for anything else.

Then, the thought of living in Finland returned to my mind. I thought about moving there, hoping to have the time and space to write my story there. I had recently had a conversation with my friend Wendy, and during that conversation, I had an epiphany:

If I died tonight, the one thing I would regret is not writing my story.

But how could I find the time to write when my job took everything from me? I realized that the only way to make it work was to go to Finland. But how? My home, my children, and their school are here in America.

With these thoughts in mind, I went to the gym to swim. As I swam, I reflected on the signs I had received, including the back warmer/Finnish flag sign. When I reached the end of the pool and looked up, I saw a blue cross against the white tiles on the wall—yet another Finnish flag. Then, I looked up at the ceiling, where small triangular flags in the colors of Finland—white, blue, white, blue—hung across the entire pool area.

I still don’t know how I’ll manage to go to Finland, but I still believe it’s meant to happen. I’m also reminded of a phrase I once read:

The light will come from Finland.

I feel like I’m supposed to go there and chase that light.

Someone might say that I have a vivid imagination or live inside my head. That may be true, but these things often tend to become reality.

Then, I spoke with Wendy on the phone again. I told her I felt I should move to Finland, rent an apartment, and WRITE MY STORY. I told her that I’d never do it if I didn’t leave this rat race—my job would never leave me alone. As we spoke, Wendy received a message. Wendy calls these messages “fly-bys” because they come on the fly, often without her knowing when or why. She’s learned to recognize them and now delivers the messages they bring.

As I shared my thoughts about Finland, Wendy saw a vision of a chessboard, but didn’t mention it to me at the time. Instead, she told me that she was told: "She will understand."

Then I said, “I don’t know how this move to Finland will work out, but I feel like it will happen. I think I can only write my story if I go to Finland. I don’t know how, but I’ll make it happen. If one way doesn’t work, I’ll try another. I’ll keep arranging the chess pieces of my life until I find a way.”

That’s when Wendy told me about the vision of the chessboard.

I still don’t know how I would do it. But I still feel like it will happen.