Revisiting: The Forgotten Room
Certain themes have a way of reappearing in my writing and in my dreams. The post below, written on August 2, 2009, contains one of those themes: a house, a room, a special and often forgotten place newly rediscovered. I continue to have these dreams on a regular basis. A home of my own and a place (room) of my own represent something of great importance in my subconscious/unconscious mind. And in my conscious mind as well, I’m sure.
It’s been almost 6 weeks since I moved from Small Town to City by the Sea. In those almost 6 weeks, I’ve had an image make an appearance in 3 separate dreams: the image of the forgotten room. Since it made its 3rd appearance last night, I thought maybe it was time to pay it a little attention.
In all 3 dreams I am living in a new house. I am mostly unpacked and settled in. In all 3 dreams I stumble on a large room at the front of the house, one I knew existed but had shut off and forgotten it was there. In the 1st dream, I walked into the room and knew I would make it a library. In the 2nd dream, it had a huge table in the middle of the room where I could spread out to sew (apparently I can sew in my dreams) and draw (apparently I can draw in them, too) and make all kinds of beautiful things. Last night when I opened the door to the forgotten room, I found that it had 3 walls of windows. One side looked out on the ocean, one on the bay, and one on the marsh. (I think my long, long walk on the beach to the tip of the island yesterday made an impact!) I knew it was meant to be my room to write. The water was my inspiration. Regardless of its specific purpose in each dream, each time I found it I was so surprised that I ever could have forgotten it. And I was so excited because I knew it was my room – a place that made me very happy
I’ve been told that in our dreams the house is a reflection of our self. If there’s any truth to that, then what part of my self have I have closed off and forgotten? What is that place of peacefulness (bookstores and libraries are where I go to get away from it all), and creativity, and self-expression? Where is that place in me that is surrounded by inspiration? Why did I shut it off and forget it? How can I find it again? And what will it mean to me when I do find it?
Now I’m no great interpreter of dreams. I might even discount it as just an interesting dream – if it hadn’t reappeared 3 times in such a short period of time. I believe that recurring dreams are trying to tell us something if we just pay close enough attention to hear what they are saying. Maybe you’re better at reading dreams than I am. Any suggestions?