Life Rearranged | A Dream
My dream, right before waking this morning:
I’ve just arrived at the home of a woman I met somewhere but don’t yet know. She invited me to come and see her. I brought along a few things to show her and talk about—though she didn’t say exactly why she wanted me to visit.
She greets me warmly and invites me in. She’s a mature woman, perhaps in her 50s. She’s wearing a long flowing dress and looks like an artist. Her brown hair is thick and wavy. She isn’t particularly striking except in her warmth and hospitality. She’s pleasant looking and a bit more outgoing than I. She doesn’t seem to have an agenda, though I’m curious about why she invited me over. I expect her to have questions about me, so I’m caught off balance when she doesn’t ask me anything.
We’re in what looks like a living room, though it’s more like a small art gallery. She reminds me of my piano teacher, Mrs. Hanks. I look around the living room at beautiful paintings and keepsakes artfully displayed.
I put my things on a chair and tell her how lovely her house is. She smiles a bit mysteriously and tells me she’s heard my house is lovely, too. I’m surprised. I don’t think my house is nearly this beautiful—though I don’t say this to her.
I’m not sure what to do next. She hasn’t asked me anything about myself, yet seems to know me. Suddenly she says she needs to go into another room, but won’t be gone long. I take advantage of the time to look around a bit more.
Just then, two women come into the parlor, unannounced. They seem to feel at home. I don’t know why they’re here.
I decide to go looking for my hostess. I pick up my belongings. They’ve morphed into more than I thought I brought with me. I arrange them awkwardly in my arms and go off to find my hostess. She’s happy to see me. I deposit my things on a nearby chair and sit down, expecting to engage in conversation or, hopefully, find out why she invited me over.
Again, she doesn’t explain anything. Instead, she motions toward the dining room and invites me to sit at the table. I pick up my belongings. They’ve morphed yet again. They feel cumbersome, and no matter how I arrange them in my arms, it doesn’t work.
I decide to leave them on the sofa in the parlor since it seems I won’t need them. I throw them onto the couch and go into the dining room.
When I walk in, my hostess smiles at me. The other two women are already sitting at the table. I sit down, not knowing what to expect. There’s food on the table, but I don’t take any right away. Two small dogs come running over to me, wag their tails, lick my hand, and jump up to get my attention. They’re black, and remind me of Diane’s dogs—Oreo and Snickers. I start playing with them, look up, and find my hostess smiling at me.
When I woke up, I wanted to go back to the dream. What’s it about? I’m not certain, but here are a few things that come to mind right away:
- I’m in this woman’s house to enjoy and perhaps meet myself.
- Even though I don’t know this woman’s name, I think I’m meeting myself in her.
- I’m carrying a lot more baggage than I thought I had.
- This woman is already rearranging my life in ways that surprise, mystify and delight me.
OK, dreamers! What would you do with this dream?
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 28 October 2016
Image found at jamusedwards.com
WordPress Daily Prompts: Rearrange