House on the Beach 6 Dec 09

House on the Beach
6 Dec 09 – Seattle Matrix

The first thing that comes to me as I come into a partial consciousness, is that all night long I have been practicing how to let my hair down. In my dream, I am quite literally letting my hair down.

Then I am on a beach with brown sand, different from where we live in Xcalak.

Then I am somewhere else and I see this small beach house, built up on stilts. I see that if it was cleaned up a little bit, that it would be adorable. And I see that it appears to be unoccupied. So I begin cleaning up the trash outside. Then I move inside and begin cleaning up the trash inside, tidying up and making it look nice. This seems to take me a few days.

When I return to the house one morning to continue, the door is already open, and from beach level I can see inside the house. But there is another inside door open revealing another room. I can see a floor heater. I can see flames coming up from this trough of flames. There’s a little piece of paper and it was so close to the flames that I worried a little that it could catch fire and burn down the house. There’s a lovely, oval, antique table sitting over the floor heater. It has a large, homemade doily on top of the table and there are knick-knacks and family photos in wooden frames atop the table. There are other things that catch my eye that tell me that whoever lives here has put a lot of love into this part of the house. There’s a homey feeling here. And there’s love and tender care here, too. I am seeing this tiny slice of someone’s life here in this little beach house and I am in disbelief that I have been working around and inside someone elses house and they never said anything to me. I assumed that the house was empty, because it seemed that way to me.

As I am leaving this place, rather reluctantly, a couple drives up and they are inquiring about renting out a room. The seem to think it’s a bed and breakfast. It seems as though I am trying to work out some way to accommodate them in a house that’s not mine, when I wake up.