A dream I had a few nights ago.
A few nights ago, I had a dream unlike any I've had before. I don't keep a dream journal, not yet, anyway, so some of the details are sketchy.
I remember this much, however:
I walked to my old house with my dog, it's not very far, but it was farther in the dream and also happened to look radically different, but I knew it was my house.
I'm not entirely sure if my dog being with me is a necessary detail, but it stands out in my memory. Once I had arrived at my house, I opened the black rod iron gate and went through the double doors and into the main room. The walls were white, and there were many bookcases. I remember looking at some of the books.
I feel that these details are pale in comparison to one. As soon as I entered the house, I felt a joy unrivaled by anything I've ever felt, waking or not. Not a jump around and clap your hands sort of joy, mind you, but a silent, true happiness, at peace with the world, I suppose. I had never felt any emotion in a dream before, not even fear.
Onto more details of the dream and less of my joy.
I walked into the bedroom that I assume was mine, and sat on the bed. It was cool in that room. For the first time ever, I sensed something in a dream. I wasted no time, and left through the back sliding door into the garden. It was slightly overgrown, but it was fragrant, and cool there as well. I walked around in the garden some, but besides that, I can remember nothing else.
Usually if I think hard enough, I can interpret my dreams to mean something negative, but in this one, I can think of nothing. It's a little strange, and it's what got me interested in lucid dreaming and this forum in the first place. I wonder what it could mean?
