My Soul Lives Elsewhere Now!

There’s a house – it really exists – tucked in between two bigger houses, in a quiet street, in a quiet seaside town. From the street side, the house looks very small. But then, the roof angles back and the house extends further than its neighbours to the rear, with a little paved courtyard right behind the back gable. The courtyard adjoins three neighbouring gardens to one side. If there were a doorway made to the other end of the court it could link up to the back of the neighbouring property on the other side, and then to a little path that links a few further gardens. This was my first house. I left it nearly 25 years ago now, but I still dream of it. It’s not that it’s the biggest place I’ve ever owned. Perhaps it’s because the first house is a terraced house, whilst all my subsequent properties are flats? I don’t know. But let me tell you about the dreams. For one thing, the house is always in need of repairs. Many nights I find myself sitting in the loft, which seems to stretch out forever. There’s usually a tradesman or two, discussing how the roof might be extended or modified. It’s always expensive and complicated. Meanwhile, within the house itself, there is any number of people living with me (whereas I had lived there alone). These people are never anyone I know, but they seem friendly enough. They are slumped on the sofa in the lounge, sitting on the stairs, sleeping in the bedrooms, or making food in the kitchen. Strangers also come and go in the neighbouring gardens (never the actual neighbours). The back court has been opened up to the other side, and there are people moving about in these other neighbouring gardens and the connecting pathway as well. There are even people out in the street, leaning in through the front window. Sometimes the dream takes on a slightly more sinister turn. People are trying to force their way in through the front door, which never seems to lock properly. Or there may be tigers in the house, and they will always find a way to reach me, even if I think I’ve barricaded myself into a room and shut them out. I do occasionally dream of my current home, or my parents’ house. But, like I say, dreams of my first house persist. I think the only solution is to buy a detached property rather than a flat or a terraced house. Will this let my subconscious or my soul finally make the move away from my first property? Because it really seems like my soul is grounded still in that other place and does not see itself as living anywhere else. It does seem important, that your soul is staying where your body is living! And I wonder if other people’s dreams are likewise haunted? Perhaps there are millions of us, grounded in places where we don’t actually live? That’s a spooky thought, that millions of souls find homes in other people’s houses, or even in places where there are no longer any buildings at all. Should we fix it? Or does it mean something else? Should we run with it and see where it takes us?

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