Gently Down the Stream

[poliphilo]

I had a dream the other night where I found myself in a country house with a moat around it. Someone was talking to me. "Do you know what this place is called?" they asked. I knew I knew, but I couldn't quite get hold of it. "The Interpreter's House," I ventured, "something beginning with an 's'".

And then it dawned on me that I'd been coming to the house at intervals for a long, long time, and that this was my real life. The people in the house were teaching me, training me. I felt so happy.

The rest of the dream involved an initiation ceremony. First I had to pretend to cut the throat of a tiger. Then I had to run an obstacle course with my eyes bandaged with red gauze.

I passed all these tests triumphantly.

I woke and there were lights flashing in the bedroom. Only there weren't. I guess it was just something my brain was doing. I was so sure the dream was a break-through that I committed it to memory before I went back to sleep.

But, look at it, there's nothing there.

Comments

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I don't think I've actually been to this place before. The feeling that I had was part of the illusion. Or was it?

Woods and a waterfall- your special dream place sounds wonderful.

[ibid.livejournal.com]

But it is not an ideal place, there is a lot of tangled overgrowth and sometimes it is autumn and is dying. I know it is supposed to be a scrubby little piece of land near home but being Suffolk there is no waterfall and my dreamscape it is so much bigger, I wonder what state of mind it reflects?

Another recurring theme is a white city. Sometimes it has the name of real places but it is the same place, painted white buildings and always a blue sky.

Dreams are fun!

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I wonder if the place with the waterfall changes with your mood.

I sometimes think I'd like to keep a daily record of my dreams, but I just don't have the discipline.