Dream House Greenhouse

One of my very favorite dreams happened again last night. I had moved into a new home, which came with a massive greenhouse, and the former owner, a woman and gardener like myself, left the greenhouse and all its contents intact. The walls are covered with hanging ferns and cacti of all kinds. Lined up on all the tabletops are every variety of indoor and outdoor plant imaginable. The plants are all housed in gorgeous pottery containers and rattan baskets. 

There are flats of seedlings emerging everywhere. Food plants, mosses, ferns, flowers, vegetable seedlings, trees in pots, plants rooting in water, statuary, gardening tools, and lots of turquoise ceramic. Outside, it’s cold. But in the greenhouse, the air is humid, warm, and smells of loam. Everything is thriving.

I walk through the greenhouse, tending plants and watering, changing a few arrangements here and there. The dream is always the same: I’m in ecstasy. I feel like I’ve come home. This is where I belong – why do I bother with anything else but this? There’s lots of work to do, but it’s all amazing work that I look forward to. All my senses are alive. My spirits are soaring. My energy level rises to new heights. My imagination is peaked. I’m beyond happy. I want to stay here forever.

After having this dream many, many times, I know that this place in my subconscious is the primordial home. Whenever I begin to think seriously of a future without intensive gardening (like moving back to New York City), this dream comes along to remind me that the plant world is my world, and I should strive for something akin to this greenhouse in my world. A hub where I can cultivate life. A warm, welcoming, living, thriving place to be, where work is waiting, and where I welcome getting started each day.

I really don’t have the language to describe how this dream makes me feel every time. Grounded, fulfilled, energized, soothed, delighted, daunted, amazed, grateful, relieved, comforted – these are just a few words that come to mind. Last night’s dream was part lucid – I knew I had been in this greenhouse before, having this experience before.

Last night, I left my cell phone downstairs. It’s my alarm clock, and it wasn’t in the bedroom to wake me up. About 15 minutes after my alarm would have sounded, my husband appeared with my morning coffee (he’s the best!) and my phone. “Good thing I saw this downstairs,” he said. I woke up, and the dream faded fast. I kissed my husband, sipped coffee, and started the day. 

But like every time I have this dream, my thoughts all day have been of that wondrous greenhouse where my spirit comes to life.


Damah 
Daya 
Dāna