I had a dream last night that Leif and I had bought a new house right near campus. (A fictional campus) It had no garage, so I worried a little about that. And it was smaller that what I was used to, but it had a little indoor stage and curtain so that one could put on plays. I thought, that’s interesting; it would be cool for Rowan. Despite the smallness of the house, the stage was about 9 feet off the floor and I could see statues and gargoyles stowed in the back. I realized the only way to get up there was to climb up the left hand wall and then swing sideways to the stage. But I was too scare to climb up, I was afraid that I’d fall off.
It’s interesting, because I’ve had a number of dreams about houses, it keeps coming up. Usually they’re huge, beautiful, and I think “I can’t believe I was finally able to afford a big house”. But there’s usually something wrong with them.
I’m in a large attic with wooden floorboards that is in a huge modern Wright-like house, all triangles, on the side of steep hill, covered with pines. I wonder how I will heat such a house. This dream is associated with Amy, Leif’s sister, for some reason.
I’m in a Victorian dining room, but there are white curtains drawn, because it’s so close to other houses and I don’t want the neighbors to see in.
We’ve bought a huge square saltbox house and I go up to the fourth floor and in one of the bedrooms, there is a huge hole in the ceiling and the bed is all wet from rain. I wonder how we’ll afford to repair it.
I’m looking out a “window”, but it’s really a window shaped hole, no screen. The air is sunny and warm, and there’s a diamond patterned stiff hammock just below the window. The house is on a side of a hill, so the drop outside is enormous, 4 or 5 stories. My white fluffy cat is taking a nap in the hammock and I wonder how he will get back, and I hope he doesn’t fall.
I’m antique shopping in a Victorian house, then I realize it’s my house. It is dim, there are no windows, and it is haunted. The wallpaper is a dingy tan and in each room is a portrait of a little girl, the little girl that haunts the place. I walk on the creaky wooden planks, trying to find a way out.
We’ve bought a new house and I keep finding rooms. I think, this is great, look at all the space I didn’t even know I had! There is a huge fireplace and at least 6 bedrooms for my 5 children. Across the mantle are some child’s crafts (paper snowflakes, perhaps?)
I’m living in a modern 1-story sprawling house. There is no back wall, it just goes out into the woods and we have furniture there, under the trees. I wonder how we will defend it if robbers try to steal our stuff.
I’m in a mansion, exploring all these different rooms. I open a wardrobe on a whim, and realize it goes to another world. I enter and have a fantastic adventure with Kirk, McCoy, and Spock. When Kirk and I get back, I realize each room in the mansion had a wardrobe, each with a different world. I am blissfully happy, completely ecstatic to explore all these new worlds (that was a high school one)
I looked it up on the web and found that houses usually are symbolical of one’s self. A big house would be indicative of potential. So apparently, I think I have potential, but there’s something wrong. The dream I had last night was interesting in that I dreamed I had a small house, but it very obviously had creative potential none the less. I have to work to get up there, but it’s there, beckoning me. And in this dream I was aware of my surroundings (the campus) and my fear (no garage, no safety net)
Lately, I’ve been feeling a little stressed out and down about the whole bellydance thing. Raks Sharqi is deceptive—you can take a 6 week class and learn the basic moves, and even dance for the uninitiated and look like you know what you’re doing. But to master it, it’s going to take years. Years! To learn the muscular control takes time and practice. And that may be part of it, that it will take awhile to learn to do it well.
I feel like I’m coming to this so late and by the time I get good at it, I’ll be 40 and too old to do it well. I know logically that’s ridiculous, but I see these hot little 20-somethings at the UW who by the time they’re 30 will be great. And I have already made something choices that limit what I can do. I have a family, a full time job that requires me to think (can’t do late nights) and a beautiful daughter. I can’t practice for hours on end, so I’ve been slacking because part of me feels what’s the point? I’ll never be great. But contrast that with Sadira’s class, where I always have fun and feel great about myself afterwards. I just think too much. So I think my dream is to tell me that it’s okay to not be great, but my creativity is still there. I just have to *gasp* work at it.
At least I’ve stopped dreaming about being in towers that are falling. Or stairs that are collapsing. 🙂