It's Time to Buy the House
This is going to be an on-going subject... I'm not sure how long it will take because frankly, it's not up to me - or rather, not up to the controlling part of me that determines when things get completed.
Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I had a dream. I dreamed of a house. I've been dreaming of this house all my life. When I was little I was always a guest in this house. My dream house has a grand staircase that takes my breath away. When you enter the house you are facing the staircase and it takes you to the second level of the home. The second level is circular, and each room on the second level is amazing. As a child I would climb the staircase and explore each bedroom. Some were victorian, others were gothic... some had a girly theme, others were filled with books. I loved these rooms, but feared the next level. Once or twice I climbed the dark narrow stairwell that led to the third floor. The rooms were dark and dusty. No one lived here on the third floor - no one but spirits... unsettling, harmful spirits.
In my most recent dream, the house was for sale and I was buying it. The carpet on the stairs was faded and torn, and the house was in need of love and attention. I was there with my step-father (who died ten years ago) and an associate of his (who I don't know at all.) My husband and my children were with me as we began to tour the home in anticipation of making an offer. For the first time I explored the first level. There is a massive library to the left of the staircase and a living area to the right. As the house is circular, the kitchen is in the back. There was a basement door off the kitchen - I never knew the house had a basement. I step out into the backyard for the first time and I'm amazed. There is a fantasy garden with ponds and fountains - it's a bit overgrown, but it has such potential. The old lady remarks, "Don't get used to it - I've already sold the backyard and Mr. B is coming to take it away. Mr. B is a business associate of mine in real life, but in a very peripheral sense. I'm not happy. I tell the old lady that I'm not buying the house without a backyard unless she knocks 10k off the price. I hear my step-father say to his associate, "Has Robin hired someone to do an assessment of this property?" I feel his disapproval and counter it by telling my kids it's time to go up to the second floor and pick out their bedrooms. I'm so excited to do this - I know they will find the perfect room. There's always a perfect room in this house. We climb the grand staircase and I throw open the first door. Inside is a blonde-haired woman sitting on the toilet! She's dressed in some kind of performance outfit - like something you would wear in a dance recital. I close the door quickly and look around the second floor. Coming from each of the rooms is the identical woman readying herself in the the same costume... fixing her hat off one room, finishing up her zipper off another, and I think to myself, "Great. They've rented out the home for a recital." And then I wake up.
As I usually do, I rehearsed the telling of the dream on my way to work. In my mind I'm telling my husband about it, and I practice this conversation. I imagine him asking, "Did you buy the house?" and I respond out-loud, "No. I was waiting for my dad to say it was okay."
That was it. I knew in that moment that this dream had significance... that in fact this house of my dreams had significance. I shared it with a co-worker later that afternoon... not just any co-worker, but a co-worker with the gift of seeing.
Me: So, I'm thinking I need to get to the bottom of this dream. I need to finish the walk-through and buy this house.
PJ: You need to go into the basement.
Me: I didn't even know the house had a basement until last night.
PJ: You are the house, you know that don't you?
Me: Yes - I see that now. I've always been the house, but I've always been a guest in the house... I'm almost 36yrs old and it's time I stopped being a guest in my own flesh.
PJ: Go to the basement first. Start there. You never knew you had a basement because the basement is the foundation - your childhood. Everything is built upon that. You can't explore the house unless you do it from the foundation up.
In analyzing the beginnings of my walk-through I found out so much about my house.
The exterior - I have no idea what the outside of this home actually looks like. Why? The outside is not important. It's what's inside that's always mattered.
The second floor - the rooms of theme and fantasy. I always loved them as a child, but I'm not meant to explore them as an adult. I never knew who I was, growing up. My oldest friends have always called me a chameleon... said I adapted to my surroundings so easily.. too easily. I could be a punk rocker one day and a prom queen wannabe the next. Each room with its theme was simply a facade. These women coming from each room were dressing for a show... each room was a showcase, and none of them were me.
The following floors - This room has many floors, but I don't know how many because I never went beyond the scary one. Why was I so scared of it? Maybe it was too far into my future, and I wasn't ever meant to see into the future me.
The backyard - I never knew there was a backyard because there never was. The backyard is what is OUTSIDE of "the house." Right now it's my job. The description of the garden fits perfectly. My job has amazing potential, but it's been neglected (not by me, but rather those powers that be in charge of the department.) The interesting thing is that Mr. B has been elevated to a position where he can tear it up and rebuild it. More interesting is the old woman telling me not to get attached to the garden because it's not going to be there when I buy the house.
The next night I turned in. Before I drifted off to sleep, I tried to will myself to dream of the house. I walked inside and sort of stood there not knowing what to do. Finally I sat myself down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. I felt silly, imagining myself there in the hopes that I would dream of the house again, and proceed with my walk-through. As sleep approached I heard a voice saying, "You need to clear the house first." So dutifully I imagined myself calling each of the persons inside to the kitchen. I called my dad first and said, "Daddy, I need you and your associate to leave for awhile. I need to do this walk-through by myself. I will call for you when I'm ready to sign the papers." Then I called my step-daughter and husband to the room. "Alyss, I need you to go with your daddy for awhile." and to my husband I said, "I'm doing this for us, baby. I need you to let me do it alone though." Then I called my two kids to the room. "This is so hard for me to say to you guys, but I need you to go with your step-dad for awhile. I want you with me, but I need to do this stuff alone. Please don't be mad, but I need you to trust me." After the house was cleared I walked to the basement door. I had hoped that I would fall asleep and start dreaming of the journey to the foundation. I was jolted into full consciousness when I realized I had no idea what to look for down there. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was me asking outloud for a guide - not my dad or my kids or my husband - but a real guide to walk me through, explain to me what I will see, and hold me if I cry or scream.
So it's time to buy the house. This is the beginning of the journey. I don't get to choose when I'll discover me... but I will share it with you as my guide allows me to experience it.
Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I had a dream. I dreamed of a house. I've been dreaming of this house all my life. When I was little I was always a guest in this house. My dream house has a grand staircase that takes my breath away. When you enter the house you are facing the staircase and it takes you to the second level of the home. The second level is circular, and each room on the second level is amazing. As a child I would climb the staircase and explore each bedroom. Some were victorian, others were gothic... some had a girly theme, others were filled with books. I loved these rooms, but feared the next level. Once or twice I climbed the dark narrow stairwell that led to the third floor. The rooms were dark and dusty. No one lived here on the third floor - no one but spirits... unsettling, harmful spirits.
In my most recent dream, the house was for sale and I was buying it. The carpet on the stairs was faded and torn, and the house was in need of love and attention. I was there with my step-father (who died ten years ago) and an associate of his (who I don't know at all.) My husband and my children were with me as we began to tour the home in anticipation of making an offer. For the first time I explored the first level. There is a massive library to the left of the staircase and a living area to the right. As the house is circular, the kitchen is in the back. There was a basement door off the kitchen - I never knew the house had a basement. I step out into the backyard for the first time and I'm amazed. There is a fantasy garden with ponds and fountains - it's a bit overgrown, but it has such potential. The old lady remarks, "Don't get used to it - I've already sold the backyard and Mr. B is coming to take it away. Mr. B is a business associate of mine in real life, but in a very peripheral sense. I'm not happy. I tell the old lady that I'm not buying the house without a backyard unless she knocks 10k off the price. I hear my step-father say to his associate, "Has Robin hired someone to do an assessment of this property?" I feel his disapproval and counter it by telling my kids it's time to go up to the second floor and pick out their bedrooms. I'm so excited to do this - I know they will find the perfect room. There's always a perfect room in this house. We climb the grand staircase and I throw open the first door. Inside is a blonde-haired woman sitting on the toilet! She's dressed in some kind of performance outfit - like something you would wear in a dance recital. I close the door quickly and look around the second floor. Coming from each of the rooms is the identical woman readying herself in the the same costume... fixing her hat off one room, finishing up her zipper off another, and I think to myself, "Great. They've rented out the home for a recital." And then I wake up.
As I usually do, I rehearsed the telling of the dream on my way to work. In my mind I'm telling my husband about it, and I practice this conversation. I imagine him asking, "Did you buy the house?" and I respond out-loud, "No. I was waiting for my dad to say it was okay."
That was it. I knew in that moment that this dream had significance... that in fact this house of my dreams had significance. I shared it with a co-worker later that afternoon... not just any co-worker, but a co-worker with the gift of seeing.
Me: So, I'm thinking I need to get to the bottom of this dream. I need to finish the walk-through and buy this house.
PJ: You need to go into the basement.
Me: I didn't even know the house had a basement until last night.
PJ: You are the house, you know that don't you?
Me: Yes - I see that now. I've always been the house, but I've always been a guest in the house... I'm almost 36yrs old and it's time I stopped being a guest in my own flesh.
PJ: Go to the basement first. Start there. You never knew you had a basement because the basement is the foundation - your childhood. Everything is built upon that. You can't explore the house unless you do it from the foundation up.
In analyzing the beginnings of my walk-through I found out so much about my house.
The exterior - I have no idea what the outside of this home actually looks like. Why? The outside is not important. It's what's inside that's always mattered.
The second floor - the rooms of theme and fantasy. I always loved them as a child, but I'm not meant to explore them as an adult. I never knew who I was, growing up. My oldest friends have always called me a chameleon... said I adapted to my surroundings so easily.. too easily. I could be a punk rocker one day and a prom queen wannabe the next. Each room with its theme was simply a facade. These women coming from each room were dressing for a show... each room was a showcase, and none of them were me.
The following floors - This room has many floors, but I don't know how many because I never went beyond the scary one. Why was I so scared of it? Maybe it was too far into my future, and I wasn't ever meant to see into the future me.
The backyard - I never knew there was a backyard because there never was. The backyard is what is OUTSIDE of "the house." Right now it's my job. The description of the garden fits perfectly. My job has amazing potential, but it's been neglected (not by me, but rather those powers that be in charge of the department.) The interesting thing is that Mr. B has been elevated to a position where he can tear it up and rebuild it. More interesting is the old woman telling me not to get attached to the garden because it's not going to be there when I buy the house.
The next night I turned in. Before I drifted off to sleep, I tried to will myself to dream of the house. I walked inside and sort of stood there not knowing what to do. Finally I sat myself down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. I felt silly, imagining myself there in the hopes that I would dream of the house again, and proceed with my walk-through. As sleep approached I heard a voice saying, "You need to clear the house first." So dutifully I imagined myself calling each of the persons inside to the kitchen. I called my dad first and said, "Daddy, I need you and your associate to leave for awhile. I need to do this walk-through by myself. I will call for you when I'm ready to sign the papers." Then I called my step-daughter and husband to the room. "Alyss, I need you to go with your daddy for awhile." and to my husband I said, "I'm doing this for us, baby. I need you to let me do it alone though." Then I called my two kids to the room. "This is so hard for me to say to you guys, but I need you to go with your step-dad for awhile. I want you with me, but I need to do this stuff alone. Please don't be mad, but I need you to trust me." After the house was cleared I walked to the basement door. I had hoped that I would fall asleep and start dreaming of the journey to the foundation. I was jolted into full consciousness when I realized I had no idea what to look for down there. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was me asking outloud for a guide - not my dad or my kids or my husband - but a real guide to walk me through, explain to me what I will see, and hold me if I cry or scream.
So it's time to buy the house. This is the beginning of the journey. I don't get to choose when I'll discover me... but I will share it with you as my guide allows me to experience it.
posted by Robin at 11:34 PM
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