In 1974 I had a bout of recurring dreams. Recurring in the sense that they all started out the same. This lasted for about a year, maybe a little more.
The dreams always started out the same. The sun was shining, I was warm, and my eyes were focused on the huge red barn about 20 yards in front of me. Just looking at it filled me with a delicious warmth because I knew that the barn was mine. My grandmother had told me so. Then, I slowly walked towards the barn. I reached out and grabbed the handles and pulled. As they slowly opened, my heart would start to race because I knew that there was serious adventure to be had in here. I looked inside and my eyes darted from place to place and thing to thing. There were a million cupboards. There were big boxes and little boxes. There were old fasioned parcels complete with ribbons on top. There were big doors and small doors, horse stalls and buckets. The barn was filled to the rafters with all this and more. I walked further in and then...
That is how they all started. The difference is that each night in my dream state, I would explore or investigate a different thing. One night it would be a cupboard. The next night a box or a parcel. An envelope. A stall. A chest. A hidey hole. Each night, each dream would be spent investigating the contents of that one thing that the dream was dedicated to. It never wavered.
Every dream would last just long enough. One time, for example, I opened a chest that was filled with treasure. I would reach into the chest and pick something out and explore it fully. I would get lost in the sight and feel of a pearl necklace or the silkiness of a scarf. No matter how large or small that particular thing I was investigating was, the dream always lasted long enough for me to explore it fully or to go through the entire contents. It was always an amazing experience and I would awaken with the wonder of that night's exploration.
Oftentimes, the thing I investigated was empty of all but dust and cobwebs and I was saddened by the loss of the contents. There were empty boxes or cupboards or rooms or envelopes. Those dreams were filled with emptiness and the feeling of loss stayed with me long after I had awakened.
And this is how it was for a year or so. Then one day (or night) they stopped. Completely. And I missed them.
And so time went on and I lived my life until one night in 1999. I found myself falling into that same dream. I welcomed it just like you would an old friend and I was so happy to 'see it'. I didn't know it yet, but it was the first of a series of three dreams, in three nights.
In the first dream, just as before, I opened the doors and looked around. Only this time I noted that the barn seemed empty. And it felt empty. I walked around and opened doors only to find those particular rooms empty. There was absolutely nothing hanging on the hooks or from the walls. The stalls were completely empty, too. There were no boxes or chests or light inside. As I looked around, I glanced up into the rafters. I noticed that there were some boxes just barely visible from where I was standing. I looked around, searching for a way to to climb up into the rafters. And then the dream ended.
The next night the dream was back. Instead of being outside the barn, though, the dream began where last night's dream had ended. I was searching for a way to climb up into the rafters. I hurriedly looked into all the doors of all the rooms and stalls for a ladder. And I couldn't find one. I stood in the middle of the barn and looked around it one more time. It was then that I noticed a tall thin door at the back of the barn and I walked towards it. I opened the door and saw that there was a ladder inside. I walked in and I started climbing. At the top I found myself in a tiny box-like room. I barely fit inside. I could stand in it but there was nowhere to go. I thought I was a dead-end. But, I thought to myself, it just didn't make any sense. I looked to my left and it was then that I saw that the walls didn't exactly meet. I walked over to investigate and sure enough there was enough space for me to fit through. I walked around and there was another wall, just like a maze. I squirmed around this one, too and then walked a little ways down a corridor to another wall. This time there was a big box in front of it. I climbed up the box and stood up. My head poked up into the rafters! I climbed up and in and looked down into the barn only to discover another complete barn on the left side. The two barns, it seemed, shared a common wall. The back one. Then the second dream ended.
The third night opened with me walking into my empty barn. I knew that I had to climb into the rafters but this time I didn't have to search for a way up because I knew about the door and the ladder. I climbed up and squirmed my way around the walls. I climbed up into the rafters and looked into the other barn. It was old and musty in there. It was filled with broken things and cobwebs hung everywhere. I looked straight ahead and saw the part of the rafters that I had seen from my side of the barn. The closer I got to that room, the lighter it got. I stepped into the room and saw the boxes in the far corner and as I walked towards them I saw my sister, Janie. She smiled at me then turned and left the room. As she reached the doorway, she turned around and became my niece, Rebecca. Then I woke up.
This time when I woke up, I knew what the dreams meant. All of them. I knew every significant thing about them. The barn was my life. Each box, each room, each envelope, stall, chest, was a lesson that I had to learn in this life and there were hundreds, if not thousands of them. Each thing inside of each container was a part of that lesson. The empty barn, my barn signified the lessons I had learned since I first had the dreams. The door to the rafters was a choice that I was going to have to make and because just finding the way up into the rafters was hard, then the choice I had to make was going to be one worth making. The desolate barn was an indicator of how desolate my life could have been if I hadn't made that choice. The boxes left in the rafters were the lessons I still had to learn but they weren't going to be as hard as those I had already learned. My sister's presence and leaving were merely to tell me that my lessons with her were over. Rebecca's presence showed that she and I had things to do together. And her smile as to show me that she was okay with my choices and hers.
What I didn't know then, but do know now, is that I was going to adopt Rebecca's daughters. Alicia was born in 2004 and Celia was born in 2006. And I love them with all that I am.
I thank my Spirit for allowing me to know these things. I am deeply grateful for my life and the opportunity to live it. I thank her for choosing Me.
