The dream took place at work, on the dementia campus where I work. But one of the residents in the dream wasn't an actual resident. He was an older man who seemed to represent someone vulnerable, confused, and unable to recognize when something had become unsafe.
There were several Instant Pots sitting out in the main area. They were boiling, and the contents were overflowing onto the counter. My immediate reaction was, We need to get these out of the way. We need to move them somewhere safer and clean this up.
So that's exactly what we did. We moved the Instant Pots into the kitchen, an area that was more contained and separated from the residents. Then we got towels and cleaned up the mess.
An Instant Pot is designed to contain pressure. And in my dream, the pressure had reached the point where things were boiling over. How often in life do we try to contain something for so long that eventually it has nowhere else to go? Emotions. Responsibilities. Stress. Relationships. Expectations. Other people's problems. Eventually, something begins to overflow.
What I found interesting was that I wasn't afraid of the mess. I simply recognized that something needed to change. The pots needed to be moved. The situation needed more boundaries. And the mess needed to be cleaned up.
Perhaps that is part of the message. Sometimes the answer isn't to keep trying to manage something in the same environment where it continues to overflow. Sometimes we have to move it. We have to create a boundary. We have to put something where it can be contained. And then we clean up what has already spilled over.
The Two Kitchens
There were actually two kitchens in my dream. One was part of the busier, more public area where everything was happening. There was a work party going on, staff were around, dishes were everywhere, and there was a sense of constant activity. Then there was the back kitchen. That's where I found myself quietly cleaning. I was putting things away, washing dishes, rinsing things off, loading the dishwasher, opening the refrigerator, and trying to restore some kind of order.
The two kitchens made me think about the difference between what is happening around us and what is happening inside of us. Sometimes our outer world can be noisy and chaotic while something much quieter is happening within. We are processing. Sorting. Releasing. Putting things back where they belong.
Maybe the back kitchen represented that private part of myself where I am still sorting through everything life has placed on my table.
What Should Be Saved and What Should Be Thrown Away?
Then I opened the refrigerator. Inside were several bags of frozen strawberries. I remember thinking, Someone should take these home. Otherwise they're just going to sit here and nobody will eat them. I thought about taking a bag home. There were also green and yellow peppers sitting on the counter. Again, I thought, These should be taken home too. They're going to go to waste.
There was a woman there who seemed to disagree with me and told me to leave them. And I became a little snippy. "No. People can take them home. They shouldn't go to waste."
That small exchange actually feels significant to me. Because throughout the dream, I wasn't simply cleaning everything out and throwing it away. I was discerning. Some things were garbage. Some things were leftovers that had already served their purpose. But some things were still good. Some things still had life in them. Some things were worth preserving.
That feels like an important lesson. Not everything from our past needs to be discarded. Some experiences, memories, dreams, relationships, creative ideas, and parts of ourselves may still have nourishment in them. We simply have to recognize what is still alive and what has already finished its purpose.
The Seafood on the Dish
At one point I was cleaning a dish that had some kind of seafood on it. I remember thinking it might have been oysters or clams. Whatever it was, it was no longer something that needed to be saved. I scraped the remains into the garbage and put the dish into the dishwasher. Again, there was that distinction: This goes in the trash. This gets cleaned. This can be saved. Life requires us to make those decisions all the time. What do I keep? What do I release? What do I carry forward? What has simply become waste? And perhaps the hardest part is learning that we don't have to preserve something simply because it once had value. Some things were beautiful once. Some things nourished us once. Some things were important once. But that doesn't mean they're supposed to remain on our table forever.
My Ride Was Waiting
There was one more detail that I found especially interesting. My ride was already there. I knew I could leave. But I kept cleaning. I wanted to get the sinks clean. I wanted to get the garbage out. I wanted to finish putting things away. Then I could leave.
That made me stop and think. How often do I feel like I have to finish everything before I can move forward? How often do I feel responsible for making sure everything is cleaned up before I allow myself to leave? Maybe sometimes we don't realize how much we carry because carrying it has become part of who we are.
We become the person who notices the overflowing pot. The person who cleans the counter. The person who sees the food going to waste. The person who washes the dishes. The person who takes out the garbage. And there's nothing wrong with being someone who cares. But there comes a point when we have to ask ourselves: Is this really mine to clean up?
The Deeper Message
The more I thought about this dream, the more I felt it was about transition and discernment. I am learning that not everything deserves the same response. Some things need boundaries because they're overflowing. Some things need to be cleaned up because they're remnants of something that has already happened. Some things need to be thrown away because they're finished. And some things still have life in them and deserve to be carried forward.
That is a very different kind of letting go. It isn't about throwing everything away. It's about becoming conscious enough to know the difference. And maybe that's where we find peace. Not in keeping everything. Not in fixing everything. Not in rescuing everything. But in learning what is ours to tend to and what isn't.
Maybe the dream was about cleaning up the places inside of me where I have carried too much for too long and perhaps the message is a simple one: Contain what is overflowing. Clean up what is finished. Preserve what still has life in it. And don't carry every mess with you when it's time to go.
~ Madison Meadows