My partner and I am moving into a new house. It is in a Frank Lloyd-Wright style, beautiful and high quality all around, and situated in a beautiful high desert in the Four Corners area (Utah or New Mexico). A company is approaching us to take care of all our needs: tickets to concerts, walking our dog, paying bills and doing the taxes, cleaning, groceries, and anything else practical. (I notice I need film for my camera, and they have the correct film right there.) The house and the service is affordable and well within our range.
There is also a slight sense of uneasiness, of shifting out of an old identity and into a new one. Now, there is a flash-back into my old life. It is a Chicago in the 1930s setting, with poverty and crime all around. We witness a crime. The gangsters and corrupt police kill any witnesses, so we flee and hide. There is a sense of the possibility of shifting back into this life, but only if we are not able to let the old identity and life go. And we are already living the new life.
Another dream where the message seems close to the surface. We are moving into a new life, a new identity, a new house, slightly beyond the horizon of our old life and identity. And there is a slight uneasiness there. Isn’t this abundance outside of what we can afford? Yet, it is really well within what is possible and affordable to us, in fact – we are already living it. There is just some time needed to get familiar and comfortable with it. And the alternative is to shrink back into the old identity and life, which does not seem all that attractive in comparison (the only thing it has going for it is familiarity).
This is of course what happens any time we shift out of our old identity: a slight uneasiness by finding ourselves outside of the bubble we had made up for ourselves, yet also an excitement of the new possibilities, and the comparison with how it used to be.