A Changing House Dream

I dreamed that I was outside somewhere. Late afternoon, the sky was a deep azure and completely cloud free. It seemed to be a festival. Many people were there, but I didn’t know them.

Celebrations had been going on. I felt tremendous, — relieved, relaxed, and happy. I was celebrating an achievement after a long effort. As part of that, though, I’d also changed houses, selling one house, and buying a new one. Today, I would take ownership of my new house. I was looking forward to that with excitement. Meanwhile, though, I was enjoying this festival.

The festival, which had some food booths, was located alongside a lengthy bluff. Beyond the bluff was the blue, majestic ocean. Calm, powerful, and deep-looking, sunlight splashed on the waves like tiny diamonds were being spread over the water. As the day ended, the organizers were showing a movie outdoors. I’d been about to leave, but decided to stay to see what the movie was. After the opening scenes, I recognized an old hit movie, something from the late eighties or early nineties, that was really just so-so. I decided that I didn’t want to see it again, so I began heading indoors. As I went, almost everyone else made the same decision.

I was going to a large, modern, white building. It seemed to be a luxury hotel. As I went, I had a thick magazine about houses in my hand. It was a glossy, colorful production about great places to live in the area, and so on. In the middle was a tear-out section. Made of thinner paper and in black and white, that section was about homes that had been bought and sold, or were available to buy. I knew both of my homes, the new one and the old one, were in there, and made a halfhearted attempt to look them up as I walked. I thought it was pretty clever of the magazine creators to have this middle section that could pulled out and easily updated and replaced.

I entered the building with a black family: father, mother, and two young boys. One of the boys was playing, and pretended to shoot me. I pretended to fall over dead, laughing as I did. I happen to fall over my brown sofa, which I recognized, thinking of it as my old brown sofa. (In real life, we’ve had this sofa for twenty years, but we’ve ordered a new sofa, and are waiting for it to be delivered.) As the family went on down the hall, I got up to head for my new place eager to see it.

Unfortunately, a cat woke me, so that’s where the dream ends.

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