Sharinghula

ere is nothing more whole than a broken heart,’ an anonymous Jewish rabbi is often quoted. We miss that truth too often.We
fail to see meaning in the flawed things.We are not conscious of the power in an image of brokenness. Putting wildflowers in a favorite vase that is cracked or stained values what has been meaningful in the past. Mending a torn seam carries the value of that piece of clothing into the future.
Our lives are full of flawed objects, so why not appreciate the place they have in our lives and the lessons they have to teach?
A German cream pitcher a gift from my grandmother was broken when the wind blew it off its window perch. A string of amber stones broke when it was caught on a screw as I lifted it from my jewelry box. My heart has been broken by someone who didn’t value my love. My red jacket, the one I wear daily to fetch the wood that heats my home. has a broken zipper My favorite CD broke when it fell out of my car and was stepped on. I broke a big jar of freshly made strawberry jam as I was putting it into the refrigerator
Some of these things required that I cut the losses and throw them away. Others I salvaged and still use because I appreciate their ongoing value or the sentiment attached to them.
Does your home harbor broken things? Confront the facts. Know when to toss the keepsakes and still preserve the memories. Know when to realize there is nothing more beautiful than a particular object that has been scarred by time and use and love. Give yourself permission to make a decision about the broken things in your home and in your life.
• Save love letters from relationships that, though broken, still brought you gifts ofiSoul. (Discard those from the jerks in your life.)
Repair objects that were inherited or given by a special person or on a special occasion. They are symbols of life’s beautiful
imperfect things: our bodies, our ambitions, our dreams.
Replace anything that would cost more in time or money than it is worth to you.
Validate the significance of objects to which your soul responds:
A bird with a broken wing may be buried with ceremony.
The dress you wore to that special dance may be made into glamorous pillows for your bed.Your grandfather’s worn- out clock may be placed on a shelf as a token of what his presence meant in your life.
Declutter spaces by untangling what you want to keep from what has no place ofi poignancy in your environment. Throw away the non keepers with grace and gusto.
Box up (labeled) anything that has some practical or sentimental value. In one year if you have not dug it out to use it or have not thought about it at all, let it go.

My recurring nightmares often involve houses, usually temporary lodging in foreign countries and strange landscapes. Almost always I am lost, alone, and late—for a taxi, a bus, or an airplane. Attempting to leave some place where I’m staying, I’m mired down in packing too much stuff into too few suitcases. Having traveled a lot and moved many times, I am tempted to see these bad dreams as my soul wrestling with its baggage. Or perhaps I fear deep down that I’m going to be too late to show up for my own life. Working with these themes, my dream-group friends challenged me to actually change the dreams. They said no one should have to lug around that much stuff1 Starting with my closets, I’ve begun to lighten the load in a concrete way. I cast off whatever has had its day. Surprisingly, the dreams have begun to dissipate.
All but one, that is—a daydream. A recurring daydream of mine is to build on to my house a prayer turret that rises above the rooffine. Through a circle of windows, I want to look upon treetops toward the mountains while spending time with God. Looking deeper, I’ve wondered, What might I learn from this dream?
Research informs me that commonly a castle or turret image indicates a longing for security. It may signify that the strength of my own defenses is isolating me from others. Both these ideas fit, and I’m looking to change. Worn excuses—I don’t have enough money, education, or the right kind of personality to accomplish my dreams—are no longer viable. I reach out to other people and stand on the promises of El Shaddai, the Provider. This dream is a big improvement over one I had years ago of hiding under my desk to get away from a houseflil of noisy, demanding teenagers.
I’m climbing higher and expecting more. The shining shoes are taking me somewhere I’ve never dreamed of going.
What about your dream home?
You are creating it from the stuff you own about yourself— what you allow to surface in your consciousness. Dream homes are built from the brick of what you accept, tolerate, and concede to. They are built of the stuff you celebrate and the stuff you fear. They are built of what you honor and of all the reasons you party! Each of us is summoned to build and inhabit our dream home, God’s design for, and calling upon, our lives.
“In My Father’s house are many mansions,” Jesus said.7
Why wouldn’t he involve us in the joy of helping to build them, starting right here on earth? Brick by brick we shape God’s flamboyant vision of the kingdom. We spread the mortar stone upon precious stone—jasper, sapphire, emerald, topaz, amethyst—studded with pearls.8 Now that is a dream house!

Scientists say people who are deprived of REM sleep—when dreams are more visual in content—are prone to irritability, fatigue, memory loss, and poor concentration. Clearly, the Creator has beautifully designed our unconscious. It is meant not to torment us with bizarre visions or leave us vulnerable but to give us a way to work toward a healthier waking life. Dream time helps us recognize important truths about ourselves and our surroundings. They cooperate with our “day” dreams as raw material with which to improve our lives. We are dreaming all the time, Carl Jung believed. Only the distractions of waking life leave us unaware of that fact, he noted.6
Like a house, my life has several levels (or stories) and many rooms divided into public and private spaces. As I bring significance from night dreams or private spaces into my waking life or public places, I remodel my dream home on an ongoing basis. After that first haunted house dream, I began to invest my dreams with regard, recording them first thing in the morning. I let them simmer on the back burner of my mind, hoping eventually to read between the lines of their strange pictures. One thing that facilitated this was sharing dreams on a regular basis with two friends. We not oniy laughed a lot but also found that when you share dreams, you can’t hide anything from one another. We began to see important truths in each other’s dreams that escaped the dreamer’s own perception. The most eccentric dream could turn out to be the most insightful.
When I have an utterly ridiculous dream, an erotic dream, or a dangerous dream, I’m tempted not to document it. Through the years, however, I’ve discovered that the dreams that intimidate me most are the most useful—that is, if I’m willing to explore their territory and understand the questions they ask of me.

My nocturnal dreams have moved me into various kinds of homes. Usually these serve as a container for something going on in the rooms, but at least once the structure itself had the starring role. In this dream I was building a large house for which there was much to be decided and accomplished. It was a house I intended to live in. The outside looked like a classy hunting lodge. Inside, the vaulted ceiling showed off an exquisite round window of pink and red stained glass. Sightseers were taking tours through the interior, admiring it, going up and down the huge staircase. I found myself, however, walking around on the roof. It seemed there were problems in the construction process; the builder and I were trying to figure out what to do about them. I walked over to a steep sloop over the front door and looked down at the tourists coming and going.. . and then I woke up.
Researchers say dreams about a house under construction indicate a person who is self-directed. Dreams about rooftops express letting go of artificial restrictions. ‘What a switch from my original dream many years before! I was moved by the fact that in this latter dream I was integrating the picture of the country church/haunted house. They were becoming one, my home was becoming sanctuary, both beautiftil and safe. Instead of being empty, it was filled with people. That I was going to finish it and live in it, I was not in doubt.