Years of recurring dreams have taught me to try and remember them,
because if they’re recurring, there’s something important I’m trying to get
myself to know. One dream that keeps coming back takes place in the house where
I grew up.
That house had a large finished basement with two super-large
closets that spanned the length of each side. Inside one were the items my
parents no longer wanted but didn’t want to give up; old furniture, plates, a
toy chest. The other side held an extra freezer, washer and dryer and a cedar
closet full of clothes.
In my dream, though, the closet also contains a room—and not just
any room. When I open the door in my dream, I find a light-filled room
furnished with a high brass bed, books, a white-curtained window and sometimes
even a friend or two, though they are not really friends I know.
What’s happening? I have no clue. Why would I place an airy,
bright room in a basement closet? Why would that room be in a house I haven’t
lived in for years?
Opening the door to that room always makes me happy in my dream.
It feels like I’ve found the key to some sort of freedom, and a very special
place where I am safe and surrounded by beauty. I always get a great sense of
peace and well being there.
Is this my mind telling me I want a safe place to write, or a
whole new environment? If so, why I am I setting it in the old one?
I’m looking (very hard) for something. The room in my dream
sometimes has a single bed, sometimes a double one, but it always seems like
it’s a room for me, and no one else. Am I looking for space, a refuge?
I read somewhere that when you dream about a basement it’s because
there are emotions you are neglecting—or are burying because you don’t have
time or money to address them. That would be me, I guess.
My husband often tells me how amazed he is that I remember my
dreams. I can’t imagine not remembering them, because I’ve always thought they
give me clues about my deepest fears and desires and about how I process life
in general.
I keep opening this door, but only in dreams. Maybe I will have to
find what I’m looking for—peace, success, a sanctuary of sacred space where I
get to write only what I choose, not what is chosen for me—before the door will
open in reality.
For some fun articles on dreams, try these:
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