The Room
I had a dream about the house again.
The benefit of working from home part of the week is that I get to take an occasional nap at lunch. I say "nap" loosely because usually it involves me struggling to keep my eyes open while working and setting the alarm for 30-45 minutes "just in case" I fall asleep. That lends itself to one of those sleeps where you're not really sleeping, you magically lose time but remain acutely aware of every sound in your house and you usually wake up startled. Anyway, today during said "nap attack," I had a dream about the house.
For the past few years, I've dreamt of it. It's a large house with a stucco finish and one of those rolling burgundy California roofs. It is sprawled out on acres of land surrounded by Japanese Maple trees and beautiful gardens. It has large rooms with adjoining bathrooms and runway closets. My dreams are typically mundane. My husband is outside building a swing set for the kids; I am reading a book on an oversized chaise lounge beside a fire; or, I am showing a guest (usually family) to the room where they will be staying. Today, I dreamt I was getting ready for bed. I put on a black nightgown and rubbed lotion into my arms. I told my husband I was going to get a snack and pulled on a thigh length robe. He kissed my cheek and I exited, softly closing the door behind me. While I had every intention on going to get a snack, I instead made my way to the room.
In every dream, I visit the room. The room is immaculate. The walls are lavender. The bed is lush and creamy white. It looks like a bundle of fluffy clouds and it cries for me every time I see it. There is a purple and white bathroom en suite with a huge soaking tub and a picture window beside it with a view of the large oak trees behind the house. Beside a wall of bookcases on the far end of the room is a entry way leading to a small set of spiral stairs. The stairs lead to a loft above the room with dark hardwood floors and sunlight pouring in. The loft is like a blank canvas and I think to myself how perfect it would be for writing.
I dream of standing in the entryway to the room often. Occasionally, I dare to tip toe through. In this dream, I entered. I traced my fingers along the walls and sank my bare feet into the carpet. The air, the experience, the energy... it sent a rush through my body. It formed goosebumps on my skin and a dance in my soul. As usual, I wondered why I didn't utilize the space. After all, it was my house. I considered diving into the fluffy comforter and taking a nap. I considered filling the tub with warm water, shedding my clothes, and immersing myself in the porcelain tub. Then, almost as quickly as I considered it, I tip-toed out, shutting the doors and running off to another task my subconscious demanded. This time, to get a snack. I always wake up wondering why I didn't lay in the bed or take a bath. I wonder why I didn't just take my things from the much less opulent room my husband and I shared and move them into this beautiful room.
Today, I woke up pissed. I wondered why I felt so undeserving of that beautiful room. I wondered why it was so easy for me to leave it untouched without so much as sitting on the bed, or running my hand under the cool water as it expanded in the tub. I've come to the conclusion that my conscious life is informing my subconscious life. In "real" life, I constantly question whether I am deserving of happiness or success. Who am I to have love? Who am I to have a big dream? Who am I to have it come true? In the context of the dream, I already had a beautiful room in a beautiful house, why would I even think to want more? I think when you have been raised with a healthy dose of gratitude and humility and/or you know what it is to not have peace, you treasure peace. You almost hold your breath in peaceful times collecting every drop of happiness and saving them up for dark days. You don't look around at that which makes you happy and say, can I have a little more please? I'd like to smile bigger. I'd like to hug someone I love longer, and I'd like to do that for more than a weekend. That would make me an awful person, right?
I think what I need to learn, and maybe I'm not alone in this, is that it is okay to dream, it is okay to reach, it is okay to want more. It is okay to believe you can have more. I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about peace.... freedom. I'm talking about love, loving, being loved, doing what you love, experiencing what you love... love. It doesn't make me ungrateful to want to take a long bath in that tub followed by a naked nap on that fluffy bed. I deserve it. We all deserve it. I just hope my subconscious gets the memo.
Maybe next time I'll at least sit down :-).
Love and Light,
Faye
The benefit of working from home part of the week is that I get to take an occasional nap at lunch. I say "nap" loosely because usually it involves me struggling to keep my eyes open while working and setting the alarm for 30-45 minutes "just in case" I fall asleep. That lends itself to one of those sleeps where you're not really sleeping, you magically lose time but remain acutely aware of every sound in your house and you usually wake up startled. Anyway, today during said "nap attack," I had a dream about the house.
For the past few years, I've dreamt of it. It's a large house with a stucco finish and one of those rolling burgundy California roofs. It is sprawled out on acres of land surrounded by Japanese Maple trees and beautiful gardens. It has large rooms with adjoining bathrooms and runway closets. My dreams are typically mundane. My husband is outside building a swing set for the kids; I am reading a book on an oversized chaise lounge beside a fire; or, I am showing a guest (usually family) to the room where they will be staying. Today, I dreamt I was getting ready for bed. I put on a black nightgown and rubbed lotion into my arms. I told my husband I was going to get a snack and pulled on a thigh length robe. He kissed my cheek and I exited, softly closing the door behind me. While I had every intention on going to get a snack, I instead made my way to the room.
In every dream, I visit the room. The room is immaculate. The walls are lavender. The bed is lush and creamy white. It looks like a bundle of fluffy clouds and it cries for me every time I see it. There is a purple and white bathroom en suite with a huge soaking tub and a picture window beside it with a view of the large oak trees behind the house. Beside a wall of bookcases on the far end of the room is a entry way leading to a small set of spiral stairs. The stairs lead to a loft above the room with dark hardwood floors and sunlight pouring in. The loft is like a blank canvas and I think to myself how perfect it would be for writing.
I dream of standing in the entryway to the room often. Occasionally, I dare to tip toe through. In this dream, I entered. I traced my fingers along the walls and sank my bare feet into the carpet. The air, the experience, the energy... it sent a rush through my body. It formed goosebumps on my skin and a dance in my soul. As usual, I wondered why I didn't utilize the space. After all, it was my house. I considered diving into the fluffy comforter and taking a nap. I considered filling the tub with warm water, shedding my clothes, and immersing myself in the porcelain tub. Then, almost as quickly as I considered it, I tip-toed out, shutting the doors and running off to another task my subconscious demanded. This time, to get a snack. I always wake up wondering why I didn't lay in the bed or take a bath. I wonder why I didn't just take my things from the much less opulent room my husband and I shared and move them into this beautiful room.
Today, I woke up pissed. I wondered why I felt so undeserving of that beautiful room. I wondered why it was so easy for me to leave it untouched without so much as sitting on the bed, or running my hand under the cool water as it expanded in the tub. I've come to the conclusion that my conscious life is informing my subconscious life. In "real" life, I constantly question whether I am deserving of happiness or success. Who am I to have love? Who am I to have a big dream? Who am I to have it come true? In the context of the dream, I already had a beautiful room in a beautiful house, why would I even think to want more? I think when you have been raised with a healthy dose of gratitude and humility and/or you know what it is to not have peace, you treasure peace. You almost hold your breath in peaceful times collecting every drop of happiness and saving them up for dark days. You don't look around at that which makes you happy and say, can I have a little more please? I'd like to smile bigger. I'd like to hug someone I love longer, and I'd like to do that for more than a weekend. That would make me an awful person, right?
I think what I need to learn, and maybe I'm not alone in this, is that it is okay to dream, it is okay to reach, it is okay to want more. It is okay to believe you can have more. I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about peace.... freedom. I'm talking about love, loving, being loved, doing what you love, experiencing what you love... love. It doesn't make me ungrateful to want to take a long bath in that tub followed by a naked nap on that fluffy bed. I deserve it. We all deserve it. I just hope my subconscious gets the memo.
Maybe next time I'll at least sit down :-).
Love and Light,
Faye
What a sweet, beautiful story! It even hints at how we can sometimes sabotage our own pursuits when we think we don't deserve something we truly want - but feel undeserving. In the case of your story, not entering the room suggests being afraid of reaching for the "brass ring."
ReplyDeleteSomeone once said that life is too short not to be happy! I agree.