Every once in a while I have a dream about a gigantic old house filled with rooms that had not been opened in many decades. In the dream, I open these rooms and find all kinds of beautiful old treasures waiting for me like orphans. When I wake, my heart is generally thumping in my chest. Sometimes in these dreams the abandoned rooms are in my own house, and I wonder how I could have overlooked them all this time. There's something about these dreams that's important to me. Something about neglect and the possibility of discovery. Something about finding things that have been there all along.
I'm opening my heart and peeking in. It's scary, but I just love an old door.