I dreamed I was coaching a biathlon in silence

I was standing at the top of a frozen hill, no crowd, no announcer, just the wind and the echo of my own voice. The athletes were there—some familiar, some strangers—but they didn’t speak. They just moved. Each one fired their rifle with a breath held so long it felt like time stopped. I didn’t shout instructions. I just watched. And somehow, I knew exactly when to nod, when to wait, when to step back. It wasn’t about winning. It was about listening to what the silence said before the shot.