25 November 2007

Remodeling

This morning I woke up from a dream that struck me as significant. The last scene is the one I remember clearly. I was working on the interior of my house (which was in my dream and is in real life quite the formidable task), trying to remodel and make improvements. My attention was focused on a south-facing wall with a large picture window (like the one in my dining room that looks onto our front porch, only in my dream this window wall was in my basement, where there is no sort of south-facing window at all, not even a small one). I decided that it was time to bite the bullet and solicit and allow someone's help. I was faced with so much work that I had to finally admit that I couldn't do it all alone. I made up my mind to do the prep work on the window wall myself—pull down the wallpaper on the lower half (there is none of this on my real walls) and sand/remove the old ugly paint above (there's plenty of this)— and then ask my father (who in real life has been dead for almost 20 years) to finish the wall and make it beautiful. My plan was to paint the basement—this wall and the rest of them—white, to brighten up the space, and reflect available light. I was reluctant to share the work I felt I ought to do, but I knew my father was feeling frustrated that I didn't call on his help more, and anyway, I was overwhelmed and tired. I anxiously wondered if he would do the work in the way I wished him to, but felt that regardless he would do a careful job. I reminded myself that he was an "expert." I began my prep work at the low bottom left corner beneath the large window, and pulled at a piece of wallpaper. There were more layers of the stuff than I'd realized, so I put more strength into tugging it from the wall, and—zip!— a great strip came off all the way up, tore through the painted area, and ripped around the window, pulling down with it heaps of dry-rot wood from the window frame. Once I freed this surprising strip and its heavy load from the wall, suddenly more light than ever poured in—it came steadily through the window itself but also it shone more brightly and unfiltered through the empty space left by the torn-down frame. The window miraculously continued to hang securely in place despite its lack of obvious support. The amount of light coming into my basement was nearly double. I stood looking in amazement at what I'd just done.

17 comments:

Am'n2deep said...

Amazing dream. I used to dream like this a lot. Lately, I've sort of shut this part of me down. You inspire me (again)to want to open myself back up. Thank you so much for sharing it.

compulsive writer said...

Isn't remodeling great--on all levels? Thanks for sharing.

Elizabeth said...

What a wonderful dream. I felt like it was so symbolic -- on many different levels.

Thanks for sharing it with us.

Lois, Our Lady of Blogs said...

Wow, that was amazing. So symbolic. You're always so insightful. I just have dumb dreams like Mike Tyson showing me how to work the microwave.

Lucky Red Hen said...

Spookie ookie how detailed your dreams are ;o)

Rynell said...

Wow, amazing dream. What great details and symbolism. I wish my dreams were less nonsense and more rich meaning, like this.

Gritty Pretty said...

I love dreams!! this one leaves me feeling a bit shaky 'cause it's sooo profound. my interpretation (even though its already straightforward):
a) you are tougher and stronger than you perhaps thought and b) you break through dark places that aren't supposed to have light (the basement), surprising even yourself. c) you make short work of what could have been a hard task.
sounds like a new era...
xoxo,
Raquel

Nigel said...

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, the idea of trusting my Father. I've wondered if I've tried conveniently to dump things in his lap, figuring all the while that's what I'm supposed to do. But maybe the reality is He wants me to rely on Him less and rely on myself more. It flies in the face of conventional wisdom, what with all those scriptures about not relying on the arm of flesh and all...

Wendy said...

Wow, that is profound! All I can add to the comments is that the basement usually represents your subconscious mind.

And thanks for all the wonderful comments on my blog! I'm glad you like the picture of my granny.

Geo said...

AM'N. You control your dreams? I've been wide open all my life. I'm pretty much a chronic dreamer. I take a 5-minute nap, and my brain makes a movie. I don't know what that says about me, except that I'm tired!

C-DUB. I'll tell you when I'm done.

ELIZABETH. Layers and layers!

LOIS. You're saying Mike Tyson's not symbolic?

LUCKY. I'm a natural-born spook. Nothing artificial here. 100% homegrown weird.

RYNELL. Oh, I crank out my fair share of nonsense. Ask me about my last Stargate-inspired dream!

GRITTY. You are a very optimistic, kind Daniel to interpret this so generously. You should hang out your shingle and charge money. xxoo to you too.

NIGEL. Finding balance is always the trick, isn't it? I'm working on figuring out this agency thing too, and what I should try to exercise power over and what I need to simply let go. This dream came at a time when I'd just made a decision to actively work on a particular issue in my life . . . okay, depression . . . so I'm analyzing it at least in part through that filter. The question of agency in that circumstance is interesting, indeed. (Ack!)

WENDY. Well then, I'm awfully glad to know that my subconscious is not totally devoid of light! Thanks for visiting. I like reading your blog.

andi said...

Wow, I totally want to meet your conscience. What is it about pealing wallpaper that is so rewarding we will construct whole psyches around the practice? Maybe you are accepting that your dad finds you "appealing" and you are "shedding new light" on his contribution to your very "foundation". Or is your father your and your husband your father????

As you can tell, I am really good at this dream thing ... Well, if nothing else, I have just revealed all of my own personal insecurities.

andi said...

What I meant to say is that I want to meet your SUB-conscience. Was that a Freudian slip?

andi said...

No, wait, SUBCONSCIOUS!

Note to self: more sleep, less caffeine.

Geo said...

Finds me appealing? You are deadly clever. Also very entertaining when you're sleep-deprived.

But seriously, you and Gritty should go into the dreamspeak business together. You could spend your entire careers just trying to meet my conscience (which I've long suspected is nowhere near as endearing as a cute singing cricket).

J'oga said...

wow. that was an incredible dream. thank you for sharing it wish us. I'm glad that we both had such profound dreams . . . and both felt like blogging about them ;)

i i e ee said...

I think I needed to read that.

I wasn't dreaming for the longest time...but now, the dreams have seem to come flooding back.

I had this dream where these students were given razor blades. They sat in a classroom for a long time without any instruction. Nothing but themselves and razor blades. Then they began slicing up their faces. Little cuts all around. Every time they did a slice, they cringed, like they didn't expect it to be so painful...and yet they kept cutting up their faces.

Finally my dream took me to the next day. Everyone's face was wrapped up in white gauzy bandages. They seemed stunned and confused about all the damage they had done.

It was an interesting "adventure in slumberland." :)

Geo said...

J'OGA. Let's form the Beautiful Dreamer Club, shall we?

I I E EE. Wow! I'd love to hear how you're interpreting that one. I could have heyday with it . . . .

If you go to grad school, please stay away from sharp objects.