Weird dreams are pretty normal.
Like last night’s foray into a new house purchase.
There were six furnaces with another one or two in the basement.
And the plastic accordion duct work was totally wrong.
The humidifier repair guy was over-the-moon giddy over the referral commission he was going to make.
Maybe that’s why I don’t analyze a lot of dreams.
Except when the topic is aliens or toilets.
Aliens or toilets mean pay attention and take note –
right while dreaming is happening.
My perspective splits into two and I start observing myself.
Aliens tend to represent my outer world.
They’re a sign of falling deeper into “corporate brain” and societal expectations.
Toilets represent my inner world.
Where they are, how they look, and how I feel are a good reflection of what’s going on inside.
Or a signal of something I’m supposed to give attention to.
Aliens and toilets have been absent from my night time adventures for quite some time.
Until Sunday night, that is.
I was surprised to see not only one, but two locations.
The first was a set of three old fashioned styled toilets.
They were quite appropriate for this quiet, antique filled room.
I was reminded of a formal Victorian parlor from a century or so ago.
Apparently these toilets were a rather well kept secret.
The room was completely empty.
One well appointed wall had three passage doors.
If you weren’t aware of what was behind them, you’d never guess they led to toilets.
The problem, however, was the toilets were completely visible from the side and open to each other.
No walls in between.
Whatever went on behind the scenes was in plain view despite the lovely wall up front.
The second set of toilets across the hallway was just the opposite.
They were housed in very black commercial styled cubicles along one wall of a busy cafeteria.
The room was busy as all get out.
As soon as one person left, another took their place.
Not much for privacy here either with people also lined up for food and eating at tables.
Exposed calm didn’t sound so bad when compared to hidden chaos.
Back to the antiques abodes I went.
As a side note, for the comedic relief, half-way back into the room, a lady appeared from behind the third door.
Picture a tall, blonde, short-haired cousin of Professor Trelawney.
She brushed passed me, stopped, then turned.
She was flustered with not being able to get a caffeine reading on me and had to try again.
Apparently this technique was being taught in a new energy class she was attending that morning.
Do you have a toilet dreams? What do they represent for you?
feel free to share