I often wonder what my dreams mean–not that I usually remember them at all. When I do, I figure it must mean something. I’ve often puzzled over a dream I used to have about Sadie, my late and very beloved beagle–she was driving away in a beige Ford Fairlane, braking for a stop sign, while I pursued on foot, yelling for her to come back. Instead, she signalled a left turn and pulled on out into light traffic. She was quite a good driver, for a dog. I was afraid, for a while, that the dream was a premonition of her imminent departure, but in actuality, she lived for a long time afterward.
Then there was the one about the three level mansion. It was HUGE, and the first two floors were lovely. The third, however, was always off-limits, somehow dangerous. Yet I knew it was beautifully furnished and wanted to use the space. I had the dream several times before I took a friend’s advice and asked my guardian angel to accompany me there if the dream came again. Sure enough, it did, and I climbed the stairs to the mysterious floor, where there was, among other things, a magnificent grand piano. The space did feel a little creepy at first, but, after that, everything was okay.
Venturing a guess, I’d say that scary third floor symbolized an unconscious fear of going to a new level in some area of my life, but who knows?
Have a lovely weekend, my friends. Smile at someone. Relax with a good book.
That’s what I intend to do.