I have several reoccurring dreams. I’ve blogged about this before.
I also have a series of dreams that differ, but seem to follow the same theme.
What does that theme represents? I’ve spent the entire weekend trying to figure this out. Usually I forget my dreams and move on, but after reading a post on Out of My Mind, I decided I needed to look further into it, and listen to my subconscious.
I’m glad I did.
Every few weeks I dream about rooms in a house. Usually my house, but not always.
On Friday night I dreamed about an empty –no, not empty– unused room in my house, a master bedroom with a full size bathroom. It was fully furnished, but clearly hadn’t been used in at least forty years. I say forty because of the decor. It was something out of the sixties or early seventies. Gold, with white and beige accents. Paisley linens and wallpaper. It had a huge king size bed, and a curved, low back couch. In reality, I have never seen this room before, but in my dream our entire family knew this room existed, but we never entered it.
The mystery room was situated in the center of my house and had no windows, but was still very bright inside. It wasn’t easy to access, which was our excuse for not using the room. It had no real doors. To enter, you had to walk through my bedroom, then through my bathroom, then through my shower to access a vault type door. This door was solid, stiff, and hard to open.
The difference of this dream from the others was, once I entered the room I felt comfort and warmth. It was similar to the feeling I had stepping into my grandmother’s bedroom as a kid. She always had a beautiful pink bedspread on her bed, and lace curtains over her windows. The walls were covered in large, black and white photos of our family. I always felt a sense of belonging when I gazed at those pictures. Generations of people just like me, and just like my grandmother. I don’t want to get to deep here, but I want you to understand. I hardly ever had a sense of belonging as a kid because we moved around so much. Feeling that while in my Gram’s bedroom, it was a powerful thing. This should give you some understanding of how this mystery room felt in my dream.
Anyway, back to the difference between this dream and some of my past dreams. Usually when I dream of rooms, they’re dark, dingy, scary, and unfinished. It’s usually a tunnel made up of one room, than another. You have to walk through one dark room to get to the next dark room, then on to the next. They seemed never ending. It’s seriously frightening. I never know what I will find in these rooms, and I usually wake up with a racing heart and a clammy sick feeling.
What does this all mean?
Could it be, this new dream is about finally embracing the unknown? Unlocking a door to that untapped part of my mind that I keep closed and protected? Hopefully allowing me to write from my heart more often, without being afraid of what might come out of it.
I’ve asked this before, do we need to break down walls to be better writers? The fear of exposing ourselves unabashed, and exposing our souls to the world, it’s frightening. We’ve all blogged about the fear. Darksculptures wrote a beautiful post about it just last week. Maybe she prompted this dream. Maybe this means I’ve overcome some of that anxiety she wrote about.
I don’t know, but this is the first time I’ve ever made any assumptions about my dreams. I’m not sure whether I should be happy about it, or fearful. The subconscious is a powerful thing.