They say to dream of a house is to dream of self, that the house represents the dreamer. I dream of a house often, and most times the house is white and alluminated with a light that appears to have no known origin. Even the surrounding land and neighborhoods are glowing white, and in these dreams, like the house... I am wearing white. There are no clouds above, no people, no animals, and the only sound is music.
The house in my dreams is always old, usually Victorian, and the reason for my presence there is also a mystery as the house often doesn't feel like my own, as if I am intruding. Although, I am always surprised at how much I feel at peace in this house, how there is no sadness despite the lack of familiar faces most times. I wont bother to interpret this here, but I will say that if your own dreams are filled with houses or dwellings, then it is likely you dream of yourself. Pay close attention to what you see and hear, and how you feel while there. What you find there will speak to you.
Given that the house or dwelling represents the dreamer, then what then are we to make of those whose dreams are filled with churches and cathedrals? Or more interestingly, those who suffer the reoccurring dream where they are buried alive; what shall we make of them?
Who hears us when we cry out in our dreams? If the answer is 'no one,' then may I never sleep again.
The house in my dreams is always old, usually Victorian, and the reason for my presence there is also a mystery as the house often doesn't feel like my own, as if I am intruding. Although, I am always surprised at how much I feel at peace in this house, how there is no sadness despite the lack of familiar faces most times. I wont bother to interpret this here, but I will say that if your own dreams are filled with houses or dwellings, then it is likely you dream of yourself. Pay close attention to what you see and hear, and how you feel while there. What you find there will speak to you.
Given that the house or dwelling represents the dreamer, then what then are we to make of those whose dreams are filled with churches and cathedrals? Or more interestingly, those who suffer the reoccurring dream where they are buried alive; what shall we make of them?
Who hears us when we cry out in our dreams? If the answer is 'no one,' then may I never sleep again.
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