The recent climate disaster, which involved the devastating fire that ravaged Maui and left the historic town of Lahaina in ruins on August 8, 2023, has been weighing heavily on my heart. In the early morning hours of August 12, while on the cusp of wakefulness, an unsettling vision appeared in my dream’s eye. A solitary house sat atop a hill with swirling darkness threatening to engulf it from below and above. A small patch of light surrounded the house, grounding it on the hill. This persistent mental image, though not what I prefer to harbor in my consciousness, refused to dissipate. So I decided to put pastel chalk to paper, hoping to release myself from its haunting presence.
Why had this unsettling image appeared? House dreams, which are very common, are generally seen as symbolic of one’s self. This symbolic meaning suggests it speaks to some challenging personal transformations I have been dealing with over the past year. That might very well be one level of meaning. Especially as I have recently experienced some positive emotional breakthroughs around these personal issues which could be symbolized by the light that surrounded the house.
Yet I feel there is another layer to this dream image – one which relates to climate disasters.
Throughout this entire year, my heart has been weighted by the relentless onslaught of suffering and loss inflicted on our planet and its inhabitants by human-induced climate change. While the escalation of climate-related calamities has been a distressing trend for years, it is in this year that the exponential facet of this crisis has become apparent. The unsettling saga of 2023’s climate catastrophes has increased my feelings of anxiety, devastation, overwhelm, anger, hopelessness, horror, fear, and heartbreak.
I know I am not alone with these feelings, as more and more people every day are realizing the grave challenges we face. All around the world people are speaking up and fighting back. But the elite minority have a stranglehold on public policy. To paraphrase what Naomi Klein so eloquently explained in her book “This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. the Climate” – deregulated capitalism does not want things to change. As long as there is a penny of profit left in our current capitalistic system of extraction and commodification, the power elites will fight regulation aimed at achieving zero emissions, which in itself is not even enough.
Seen through this lens, my dream house might reflect my anxiety arising from the uncertainty of the very ground on which we make our homes. Additionally, it could embody my fears of a dystopian future shaped by the world’s elites’ unwillingness to address the relentless climate change disasters. If we fail to address the challenges posed by the current and persistent systemic breakdown and evolve into a more caring society, our collective fears just might become reality. From below and from above, the house is surrounded by darkness and formlessness. Yet remember the light that surrounds the house. Remember the house stands as a safe harbor.
Amidst the chaos and uncertainty that envelops not only me, but all of us, the house remains safe and undamaged – a resilient haven. The dream’s imagery could very well be a reminder not to relinquish hope in ourselves – in humanity’s capacity to evolve in awareness and confront the challenges of climate change with fairness. While these challenges may seem insurmountable, possibly enough people will enter the luminous house of self and grasp onto the guiding light of love. Perhaps as a global collective we can shift our consciousness away from fear, scarcity, calamity, and suspicion and instead embrace a consciousness which acknowledges that we are all connected, we are all one.
Judith’s decks, paintings, prints and other merch are available on her website.
feminismandreligion.com 
Judith, like you what is happening around the world is a Haunting – and I too often have dreams that may be addressing personal issues but also collective ones – and some of the dreams I have had are simply chilling… this ability to cross boundaries between self and others is probably part of our connection to all beings – but some of us seem to have a peculiar open door…. as soon as I saw the beautiful/haunted painting I felt a chill – no ground beneath us – we are living through liminal space – and you are so right – the elite minority is refusing to let us go – capitalism, racism, etc VS climate change – that’s the story we are living… Paint dear Judith paint…. you bring joy to the moment.
LikeLike
Sara,
I appreciate your thoughts on my dream image. It is most definitely difficult to be a sensitive person in these days of such suffering. Thanks for reminding me that art and self-expression can bring joy to the moment – sometimes it feels so inadequate. But the process of creating art does help ground me and connect me to the unknowable and unnamable mystery of life.
I guess only time will tell what direction we take as a human collective – that of life and love – or that of death and hate – as we move out of this liminal time into our future.
LikeLike
Judith, will reblog this
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for this amazing post and the image of the house. What I find especially helpful in it is that you not only recognize that it is at least partly about climate change but you find inspiration about what we need to do. I can’t think that whatever Gaian intelligence is sending these dreams – and I have heard of a number of people who have had similar ones – isn’t trying to tell us what to do to make a change. I find great hope in the light – as if maybe part of the message is that the Earth has not given up on us but that the Earth is still our home, if we will only learn to live in our home peacefully, sustainably, and joyfully.
LikeLike
Carolyn,
That’s a beautiful concept that Gaia herself is sending us dreams with messages of what we need to do to make the necessary changes so that we can (as you say) ” live in our home peacefully, sustainably, and joyfully.”
LikeLike
This painting of the house reminds me of the Banyan tree that is standing in Lahaina after the fire. The community is hoping that this 150 year old tree will survive.
I would not have known about it but, a friend of mine and her son fled these fires while on vacation in Maui. They probably wouldn’t have survived if she didn’t decide last minute to change her plans from staying the last 2 nights in a secluded rental house to a hotel in Lahaina. I held her in my arms as she cried for the devastation put upon this place and the people who are now without homes. She showed me a picture of the Banyan tree before and after the fire and it brought tears to my eyes. This beautiful Mother Tree to me feels like the hope not only for the loss on Maui but for the hope of all of us upon this Mother Earth we live upon. Thankyou for sharing your heart in this beautiful house painting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Michelle,
I am so glad to hear that your friend and her son are safe. I’m sure their experience has changed them in profound ways. I love that you associate my dream house image with the Banyan tree still standing at Lahaina. Your statement – “This beautiful Mother Tree to me feels like the hope not only for the loss on Maui but for the hope of all of us upon this Mother Earth we live upon.” – resonates with me.
LikeLike
But where are the roots?
LikeLike
Judith, It has taken me a while to respond to this article as I feel so touched by this article and I am still pondering, what the height and depth expressed in your very evocative artwork mean to me on my own journey. The house feels like a conscious place of warmth, and light, an internal hearth and home from which it is possible to safely contemplate and explore the depths you have also depicted below the hill. Down there somewhere lie the roots of the tree that survived and may allow it to thrive again. It’s so good you can paint your dream messages which appear to be both personal and global.
LikeLiked by 1 person
yes, it the root thing that distresses me – such a powerful painting
LikeLike
Iona,
That’s a very interesting analysis of the dream – viewing the house as a place of safety. I have felt that the darkness which surrounds the house threatens that safety we feel in our home environments but your view adds a more positive spin – seeing it as an ongoing safe refuge for contemplation and exploration of how to solve the serious problems we face as a world community. Perhaps it is both at the same time. So many people this summer have lost their safe havens in the blink of an eye from the storms, floods and fires that I think the fear of the same happening to to any of us is very real.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sara, I’m not sure I understand your comment but I think you are speaking to the fact that we really have nothing rooting us to safety at this moment in time. Each of our own homes – our own refuges – could be wiped out at any moment from some climate disaster – a truly terrifying understanding to come to grips with. Correct me if I misunderstood.
LikeLike
Unfortunately you didn’t mis – understand. I hate saying this by the way….
LikeLike
I know what you mean. I hate feeling it and believing it myself.
LikeLiked by 1 person