I'm starting to wonder if I have a problem with dreaming. Have always been a vivid dreamer, and dreams & sleep have always intriqued me. These days I dream every time I fall asleep, always in colour, often in lucid technicolour. And they're not just forgetful dreams, these are the type that stay with you, that you can still feel for a long time afterwards.
The real problem, I think, lies with the flashbacks. I'm sure it's normal to remember random fragments of dreams. But I get them frequently throughout my day, and not just of the most recent ones. Sometimes these flashbacks can last for many minutes, taking me through various dreams that all seem to contain the same message. I get lost in them, lose concentration, and completely forget whatever I might have been doing.
Being chased, flying, or teeth don't occur here. My recurrent them is homes. Moving homes, to be precise. Think they started in my early 20's, and over the last 10 years or so I could recall at least 20 different ones. Some are clearer than others in their fine detail and colours, but I could tell you the layout of the house for each one. I remember them all.
I had another one yesterday, during my compulsary afternoon sleep. Parts of it are very vivid right now, and so want to write as much as I can and share it here. These dreams are never bad, in fact I find them reassurring. Think I'll have to type and save it as I go, so I can write as much detail as possible. This one was quite different from the others in lots of ways, and therefore significant. This could be a very long post!
I don't recall the start of the dream, and how it all came to be. It involved our truck, which was supposed to be my home. Tom wasn't there, he didn't appear at all. The only familiar person was me, don't think I even saw any other faces. Something wasn't right; there was someone making me feel uncomfortable. I think my home felt insecure, and that someone was cheating me out of it, or threatening my ownership, can't be more precise. Then I found out that a caravan had been bought, and it was to be my new home.
Normally, I never see the outside of the home I'm moving to. The house represents you and your soul. Each part of it inside, each room, represents an aspect of the dreamer. Moving, obviously means change. So you could say that I'm in a state of constant change, which would be about right.
When you do see the outside of the house, it's meant to represent how you (the dreamer) think other people see you. I only saw the outside of this caravan once, and it was like a brochure photo. It was an old caravan, 1960's stylee. Old it may have been but it wasn't falling apart. The aluminium strips had tarnished through age, but there was no rust or mould, it wasn't damp. It was like it had been in storage for years and years. It didn't have the awful tinted plastic windows that modern caravans have, they may have been glass and were flush with the body. You couldn't see inside, even though there were lots of windows and no curtains. The way the outside was painted was very subtle - just white and a pale creamy yellow, seemed to me like they were it's original colours. The overall shape of it was distinct, in that classic 1960's car way. It wasn't grand or particuarly elegant, but it was distinct. And solid and clean. No broken windows or locks, all secure and intact.
Neither was it huge, it was modest in size. And in that true deam like tardis way, it was bigger inside than you'd expect. Again, not huge, but big enough for me. As I looked around inside, it was clean and tidy. It seemed empty, ready and waiting for someone to live in it. There was no mess, the layout was perfect, it felt very warm and suitable. At one end, there was plenty of storage places, under the seat, even a wardrobe which I quickly found out folded out into the bed. I loved the use of space, as it meant I could sleep when needed without having to put things away or lose any seating. I noticed quickly that there was ample space for all my books and all my wool, and it was as if it was designed for me. I was happy.
At the other end was the kitchen area, more seats and storage. The storage this time was more like the high cupboards and shelving that you find in caravans edging the ceilings. Looking closer and opening some of the cupboards, there was evidence that someone else had lived there some time ago. There were belongings and crockery in most of the cupboards at this end, even though at the other end (the bed end) all the cupboards were empty.
Cupboards, closests and drawers represent your memories and your past. In every single one of my moving dreams, the storage and cupboards of the home I'm moving into have always been the most noticeable aspect. Occassionally, they have been bare or there have been no cupboards. But nearly every time there is an abundance of storage. Cupboards and drawers from floor to ceiling, lining the walls. Every where I turn, there's another closed cupboard. And they are not normal looking, no oak finish or Ikea flatpacks. They are always wonky or curvy, often colourful but always odd and never matching to any other cupboard around it.
The cupboards in my new caravan were as you'd expect, clean lines and normal doors. This is a first; there was perhaps a little more storage at the bed end than you'd expect but otherwise it was all very normal and unintrusive.
So I set about sorting out the cupboards that had things in them. Possessions, mine or of others, never appear normally in my dreams - the cupboards always remain closed, so it feels very refreshing to have been clearing out. Inside these cupboards I found many things I didn't want. They weren't bursting with clutter and it wasn't difficult to sort them out. I cleared out and boxed up anything that seemed breakable - all glass and crockery went. I kept some of the non-breakable kitcheny things (which I'm currently doing in real life for the truck) and kept everything to a minimum.
The kitchen area, where I found most of the cupboards full, represents the dreamer's family, often the mother, and the nuturing side of you. I think it's quite interesting that I was discarding all the breakable things and clearing the clutter, keeping only the bare essentials. The only other time I have dreamt of objects in a kitchen was in a drawer, which was full of sharp knives and rusty cutlery. This time I didn't see any knives, although there seemed to be several dinner sets, tacky and seemingly very smashable (although I didn't smash them) There was also someone helping me clear out at this point, otherwise I was the only one in the caravan at any other time. I remember pointing to all of the crockery, telling them it was going, as I was being ruthless about what I was keeping (no pun intended) There were also lots of breakfast cereals and cakes, all out of date so they went straight in the bin.
The other cupboards above the seating seemed to have bric-a-brac kinda things in them. In one corner I found a cupboard full of old electrical items, none of them working. When I took everything out I noticed that the cupboard was very dusty with a few cobwebs - all of the others were clean and light after emptying. I pressume that the electric items, or rather the storage of, relates to my own energy so it figures that this should be in need of cleaning.
Whilst I was doing all this tidying and clearing, it dawned on me that there may still be things in the truck that belonged to me and I started to worry about them. The truck was parked nearby and so I went over to reclaim what I could.
Now, not only is it rare for me to see the outside of the home I am moving to, I have never ever seen or felt the home I am moving from in my dreams. Not only that, but I saw the outside of it too. At this point, I stood back and was able to see both the caravan and truck in one view. Two very distinct parts of me. Moving out of the truck doesn't mean I'm not interested in it anymore, it means that I'm moving out of my safety zone, taking a risk.
When I got inside the truck, it was full of people, all sitting on the many seats. As in any caravan or motorhome, most of the storage is under the seats, and so it was here. All of the people were strangers, never saw their faces, and many of them found me trying to get in the under-sorage cupboards quite an inconvenience. It was uncomfortable, asking them to move so I could thoroughly go through everything, hoping not to miss anything important. Even though I was supposed to have lived there, all of the belongings and objects I found were alien. I recognised nothing.
The truck and it's storage was messy and untidy. Dirty floors and poor lighting, unlike the caravan which was clean and bright. I started to fret a little, as I was so sure that I still had things there that were of value to me, yet couldn't find everything. I was going through every cupboard so thoroughly and methodically. There was one person I was seemingly trying to get away from, the same person at the beginning of the dream that seemed to threaten my privacy and safety. Have no idea who this was, but they were now the new lodger in the truck. Minky was sitting on one seat in the truck, looking very scared. I said to this person that she needed to come with me, and that she found all the moving very unsettling. I was going to wrap her in a blanket, to make the transition easier. My last cat, Twiggy, was jet black like Minky and moved house so many times with me. She's normally the animal I'm trying to rescue in my dreams so it could have been her instead.
Towards the end of the dream, I realised I didn't have my car with my, and that it didn't have a towbar anyway. I wasn't able to move the location of my new home, but that didn't feel permanent, more a temporary glitch. By this time, the caravan was more distant from the truck. The site I was on was now full of other tents, trucks and caravans, and couldn't see my old truck. I knew it was there, across the other side, as I had to go over there just to double check that I'd not left anything behind. But it was out of view. I seemed able to cope with it being there for a while, until I moved my new home.
And so the dream ended. I was never completly satisfied that I'd retrieved everything from the truck. Nor did I fully unpack and settle into the new caravan, although that was in process. The caravan was warm, safe and home. The only home that has ever felt like 'home' in any of my moving dreams.
Make of that what you will! It's meaning is crystal clear to me, and it all feels positive. I feel so incredibly light of mind today, and chirpy.