Sunday, February 10, 2019
I had this dream last night. Briefly:
A friend of mine in Toronto has this nightmare of a house, she is a hoarder and it's packed to the rafters with stuff. You don't need details - it's all just stuff. Pathways are laid out in the rooms to navigate through the garbage. Her bed's accessed by crawling across boxes. The stairs to the basement is jammed with newspapers and magazines. The window on her door is covered with a garbage bag. And this was when we were allowed in. For the last twenty+ years I'd say no one has entered Hilda's (pseudonym) house. So I imagine it is far worse now. It's a huge concern. We had cleaned her out a few times in the past but it was all in vain, she refused to get psychological help, she accumulated more rubbish and excess was poured into her car so that she could never take passengers. A typical out of control hoarder. I wrote about her here.
Anyway, last night I dreamed of her. Sitting in a tidy house. Surrounded by mannequins in various costumes, elderly clothes, lounging around on the chairs and sofas in her much expanded living room - she had bricked in the front door.
I questioned her as to what she was doing, there were at least 5 of these faux humans, heads down reading, as was she.
"Oh," she said, "Finally, everything is taken care of, see? My friends and I are really happy together. We read to each other."
I had absolutely no trouble analyzing this dream. Dreams are nearly always about ourselves. Very personal.
(1) I am isolating far too much.
(2) I have been indoors since last Thursday and the weather has been beautiful
(3) My door to new experiences has been blocked.
(4) My imaginative life is now greater than my reality.
(5) I need to bring some flexibility in to my life. I am getting rigid.
So, I'm heading out today. To interact with some children I know.
It's far too easy to get locked in place.