I had a very vivid dream a few nights ago, about houses.
My first house was a tacky 70s aesthetic, filled with lots of vinyl furniture. It was kind of ugly, but functional. Vinyl furniture is uncomfortable on hot days, but easy to clean.
I left and came back, and it had been transformed into a movie theater. Everyone knew me, but I had to wait in line to get a glass of Pepsi. It was warm inside. There was carpet.
I left and came back, and it had been transformed into a two-story house filled with fishing gear. It had wooden walls and floors, and a second story balcony. It was beautiful. I never wanted it to change– but it did.
I left and came back, and now it was an auditorium filled with relatives. A family reunion was going on. Some people I hadn’t seen in years, some had even passed on, but they were all there enjoying each others company. The light was yellow…
I’ve been reading a lot Buddhist texts about change, so I suppose it’s not unusual that my subconscious would create its own metaphor. Maybe I’m trying to tell myself something.
Change is going to come rapidly to my life. Some changes I’ll enjoy, many I won’t.
But it is inevitable. The best strategy will be to make the most of whatever house I find myself in, while remaining aware that tomorrow’s house may be very, very different.