“Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives.” William Dement
Today, I want to hear about you.
What dream do you remember? Is it funny, crazy, creepy, sad? Or what about a recurring dream?
“Dreams say what we mean, but they don’t say it in daytime language.” Gail Godwin
Write a note about a dream you’ve had and send it to me here (or subscribers, simply hit reply to this email.) I will publish your writing (along with your first name and location) in next week’s blog installment.
I’ll get us started with my recurring dream…
It doesn’t look like my house, but it’s my house. What’s that in the corner of the girls’ room, though? A door? I’ve never seen it before. How did I miss a door? I turn the knob and enter. I survey the space, which is bigger than our entire house, and excitement flutters in my stomach. It’s an old ballroom. Sunshine pours in through a wall of windows, and dust motes hang like stars. Vintage furniture crowds the space. Tufted sofas, velvet arm chairs, hanging Moroccan lamps, throw pillows like they sell at World Market, Turkish area rugs. All my favorites… The previous homeowners must have left it all behind.
I call to Husband, and he comes running.
“Have you ever seen this room?” I say, breathless.
“No.” His eyes twinkle now. “But it looks like you.”
*Miss an installment of the blog? Or want to catch the story from the beginning? Visit http://www.tamarajorell.com/blog-entries-by-date
*Names in this blog have been changed to protect my family, neighbors, and friends in the neighborhood, and in a nod of appreciation to the beloved Swedish author Maj Lindman, I’ve renamed my three blondies Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.