Last night I had another house dream. I often dream of houses, inside and out... vivid, very visual dreams that haunt me through the day. What does a "house" dream mean, Jungianly speaking? This morning I have new insight. Maybe.
This house, I was invited to by someone close to me, perhaps related. It was bizarre and archaic, filled with rooms like warehouses full of theater set pieces. A hoarder's paradise. I touched ancient books, school texts, shelves of novels I'd read (in real life), old toys I'd coveted (Barbie's and dolls), costumes I would dress in (oddly also a recurring theme in my dreams... mmm.) The design meandered, the bedrooms were down slides or hidden in secret nooks along passages lined with works of art, nick-nacs, beautiful junk. Stacks of odds and ends, a mish-mash from a collector's fantasy. All had some vague emotional value to me that I can't pin point now I'm conscious, of course.
Awakening from this wonderland of subconscious form and elaborately organized objects infusing me with a happy glow, I understood that this house (I even touched a giant broiler tank made like a wine barrel and tracked mold along a floor board), these rooms, the clutter, the emotional zing, all represented my cluttered, often scattered imagination. I'd dreamed a literal schematic of my creative brain! How cool was it? I can't wait to go back to sleep.
The moral of this story? Sleeping might get you a dream, but waking is where the work gets done...
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