Weaving The Dream

In my dream, I am walking through my (waking reality) house to put something I am holding out back.  I come out of a front door but instead of walking around to the back yard, I open another door in the front onto a corridor that leads through the house to another door in the back.  As I step into the corridor and close the door behind me, I think “This is a shorter route.  Why do we get stuck traveling in the same patterns all the time?”

Then I notice that there is a door on my right that I remember leads to another part of the house.  I open the door on an unfinished bathroom.  The shower and sink are installed but not the toilet.  There is a large radiator-like fixture in there as well.  I come out and see another door on the same side.

I open it into a large room that, at first, looks like everyone’s ideal media room but the room appears unfinished, sculpted in what looks like Styrofoam. I think how big the space is and have an idea where everything goes.  Then I turn and look back in the direction of the door I came through and what has previous been black and white is now in full color. Somewhere in the back of my mind I have a sense this isn’t real, that this part of the house doesn’t exist.

I see a kitchen with a sink, open shelves above it and a large island/bar.  There is a woman standing there that resembles our mail deliverer who is there to help me.  And I say “I could give workshops here!”  She nods yes, says I could and because of her response, that she sees what I see, I think, oh it is real!  I am so excited about the possibilities, and when I turn back to the media area it is a finished, furnished, comfortable living room.

Now I see an open staircase going up to another floor and I investigate and discover another sitting/living area to the left and know that there are bedrooms beyond on the right – a place, I think, where people who come for my retreats and workshops could stay..  I am so excited by the possibilities.  I wake up.

The title of this dream is appropriate since I have had other dreams about this house having more space, more rooms, yet undiscovered, yet unfinished, and I am always happy about the extra space, regardless of its condition.

Two things strike me about this dream, however.  The first is the comment to myself at the beginning about moving out of old patterns and paths.  Doing this in our lives and our creativity, opens us up to both seeing things in a new way and to discovery.  I would not have found this space in the dream if I hadn’t taken a different path.

The second interesting thing is that in many of my previous dreams the extra space that is off the family room of our waking life house, has, to this point been in the raw or unfinished state.  In this dream, with the exception of the toilet and some paint in the bathroom, this space is finished.  In fact, I remember in the dream having the recollection that a couple and their small child had lived there for a year so the space was even previously inhabited.

This dream had me springing out of bed this morning, humming with the idea of news paths and hoping that the image of a space to teach – a finished space—implies that the I am moving closer to being able to do the kind of teaching and other work that I want to do.  That soon, I will be able to live in this new space, i.e. this new place in my life.  The space is comfortable with cheery colors, comfy furniture and natural materials.  Roomy but not overwhelming.  Intimate, actually, the way I like to work with people.

So what new paths do you need to take?  And what creative space or creative dream do you yet need to claim?

Potential and possibility shimmer in that space and that dream.  Maybe I should title the dream, Spirit House, instead.

Part of the joy of celebrating a new year is letting go of and saying goodbye to the old year, especially if that year has been particularly challenging.The year both my mother and grandfather died, and the year my husband’s father and then mother died were two years I remember being particularly glad to say good bye to, embracing the following New Years with a sense of hope and relief.

OK - so my studio goes through periods of looking like it just burped after a heavy meal…

Like right now. I asked my fairy godmother if she would just wave her magic wand and clean it for me but she thinks it is better if I clean and organize it myself.

“Then you are less likely to make such a mess again,” she tells me, pointing her wand at me. (Really, after all this time, you’d think she would know better!)

But if I am just going to mess it all up again (me and those reproducing cones of yarn), then why bother? Why not just leave it the way it is after a swipe with the dust cloth and push of the vacuum cleaner along the path through the jumble of books, cones, pillow forms, and projects?

Well, because just as much as creativity loves the freedom of chaos, it also loves the space and clarity of order. After a while, the jumble of papers, books, yarns, and other things that sneak in, makes me feel chaotic inside, and a little claustrophic. Clutter weighs me down–mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

I usually try to give the studio a thorough cleaning–reorganizing, vacuuming, dusting, and washing windows-at this time of year. I throw out old files and magazines, and give books I have read and don’t need anymore away to friends or my local library. And when I am done, I feel lighter, happier, and eager to get back to weaving and writing.

Apparently, I am not imagining this as experts in Feng Shui say that clearing out clutter eliminates negative Chi (energy) and makes room for new ideas and developments.

So I need to create order in order to create. After all, how can I choose the colors to weave a new luscious shawl if I can’t see all the yarns I have available? I might miss that ocean blue or that deep forest green. How can I let my mind adventure off into the next scene of my fantasy novel, if bills and writing assignments are scattered around the computer competing for my attention? I may manage to write a few pages somehow but it often takes longer and uses more energy. Eventually, I start to procrastinate writing or weaving, or even going out to the studio at all, a sure sign I need a little order.

Sigh! So I need to get to work because I have seven feet of workspace and you can’t see the surface of any of it anymore. And something important may be buried there…like my creativity.

Now where did my fairy godmother go?

I am a weaver and writer fortunate enough to have a great space for the constant leaping off into the creative abyss.

I love my space, my studio, because it is over our garage so it is on a level with the trees that surround us. And it has windows on three sides-north, east, and south-that let in lots of light. The only wall with no windows is covered with light of another kind, my cones of yarn. And I mean covered-cones line up from top to bottom, from left to right, from white to yellow to orange on through the color wheel to black.

It is my palette from which I choose my colors for “painting” my rayon chenille throws and shawls and scarves and loose jackets.

This montage of color is wonderful except for one thing. I have too many cones for the wall. Cones are piled on the floor in a tumble, one on top of the other - some buried so I can’t even see what colors I have. I try to keep them organized, picked up and cleaned up but, honestly, when my back is turned, those cones are like rabbits, reproducing and tumbling about until once again the area looks like Dorothy’s tornado just whirled through throwing them left and right.

Creative ideas and projects can be like those cones. Just when we think we have them organized and going in the direction we want, we turn our backs momentarily only to turn around again and discover they have multiplied, scrambled, and otherwise escaped our control.

Life is like this, too. As much as we may desire order, control, and direction, Chaos, with her friends, Change and Unexpected, are frequent visitors. Our only choice is how to treat them once they arrive because although we may want to slam the door in their faces, not only is it rude but somehow they always manage to get a foot in first!

Over the years, I have learned to accept that chaos is part of my process, so I let it visit for a time, while I step over cones (occasionally tripping!), dig under them, search for a missing color. I live and work within the chaos until I have moved through one or several projects. Then, suddenly like a switch turned on, I know I need to create order again before I can create or design anything else. Soon, once again, I am restacking, remounting, re-arranging cones of Persimmon, Lipstick Red, Regency Purple, and Seabreeze, knowing that the minute I turn my back Chaos will return.

Perhaps my time would be better spent teaching those cones to click their heels and say, “There is no place like home…there is no place like home…”