Front porching holding guitar at camera

First Post

I had a great dream once, a long time ago.  It’s the only one I can recall that actually changed my life. In it I lived in an extremely small, up stairs, cramped apartment.  No room for anything but a bed, a chair and a dresser with clothes piled high. 


I was preparing for some guests, people I knew and loved who also happened to be successful and very wealthy. I was a little nervous and uncertain.  The first guest arrived.  I moved some clothes from the chair and invited him to sit.  He was very uncomfortable, I could tell.  I could see in his eyes confusion and disappointment.  He had clearly expected more from me and couldn’t understand why I was living in such a dump. To break the ice I asked him if he wanted a beer.


I opened a door to the kitchen.  I had never opened this door and didn’t really know where I was going. And I was very nervous for some reason.  I found a refrigerator.  In it was a single Heineken. Nothing else. I looked around at the kitchen.  It was very large and yet it had never been occupied. A stone floors and stone counters.  The grout was clean, and had been there for years, untouched. I opened a drawer and found a can opener.  Nothing else. I looked out the kitchen window into the backyard; a forest with a running stream and deer.  I turned around and saw this enormous, this absolutely mammoth, living room that must have been the length of a football field. A fireplace you could easily walk a family into.  No furniture. Massive ceilings and chandeliers.


Then it finally dawned on me that this was MY house. I had never opened the doors or had the guts to explore my own house because I didn’t know it was there. I had just piled everything into the first tiny little room sized apartment I could find. Now it was time I started exploring my other rooms.


It was after this dream when my life started taking shape. I started writing music, assembled my first band and got my first record contract. And then got married, had children, went to Europe, started my own studio, record company . . . And still the rooms were small.


I don’t go for psychoanalyzing and interpretation of dreams, so please don’t do it for me. I don’t put much stock in dreams ordinarily, though they can be great fun. Unlike most of my dreams, this clearly had significance for me and made me re-organize my life and what I was doing.© Henry Robinett 2012