Humankind has been trying to solve the mystery of dreams for as long as they’ve existed. Today there is even a special discipline in the study of dreams called oneirology. Those who prefer the esoteric side of things over science love to interpret their dreams according to various dream books and believe that they can predict the future. But psychologists think that dreams accurately reflect our current condition and that our subconscious tries to tell us something important via dreams from time to time.
We at Bright Side have learned that there are dreams that are common for all of us. Each of us sees these types of dreams every now and then. These dreams are caused by our ancient instincts, a cultural code, the experience of our ancestors, and personal experience. A psychologist and an expert in the field of dreams, Patricia Garfield, calls them “universal dreams” and says, “Like a hearty stew that is rich with local produce, the universal dreams differ among different peoples, but they are all nourishing variants of the same wholesome meal. They are as old as humanity and as widespread as our globe.”
1. Falling
In adulthood, we see falling more often than flying. According to the psychologist Ian Wallace, a dream about falling symbolizes the fear of losing control. You can’t control something in your life anymore because some drastic changes that you were not ready for took place in your life. Think about what sphere of life (work, relationships, finances, health, etc.) you feel most suppressed or vulnerable in as well as the ways to correct it.
Some scientists explain dreams about falling with simple physiology. As the body is sinking into sleep, the nerve system starts to calm down, your blood pressure and heart rate decrease and your falling asleep brain (especially if it was overwhelmed during the day) can perceive this physiological change as danger or an approaching death and therefore, makes you wake up suddenly.
The opposite version of this dream is flying which signifies freeing oneself from some hard burden and getting the desirable freedom.
2. Teeth that fall out and injuries
Our subconscious interprets teeth as an indicator of strength, and an ability to “bite off” a piece of the world. “Perhaps, you have recently been feeling unarmed and helpless in the real world,” Penney Peirce explains.
Patricia Garfield, another expert who’s studied dreams for many years, connects dreams about teeth falling out with hidden anger. As a rule, when we suppress anger, we clench our jaw, and our teeth might start to creak and grind. This dream might be signaling that it’s high time to get rid of negative feelings.
We often have dreams where someone close to us is wounded or sick. Those dreams cause consternation; however, from psychology’s point of view, things are not that bad. It’s simply our fears of the future and inevitable changes with those close to us. If you see your own death, it means that some part of you is dying and staying in the past to give space to something new.
“Opposite” dreams about birth and recovery usually appear when something new is taking place in a person’s life (like a new job or project) and symbolize a new experience.
3. Failure at an exam or public performance
You’re about to take an exam and suddenly realize that you don’t remember anything or you can’t say a word when standing in front of a big crowd. These dreams might be experienced not only by students and school kids but also by people who have graduated a long time ago. It’s likely that you had some stress shortly before going to sleep or was extremely worried about something. In this case, it’s better to take a short break and relax.
4. Being chased or persecuted
Such dreams have several different meanings. An expert in the field of dreams named Lauri Loewenberg says, “People that tend to avoid conflict, who are afraid of ruffling feathers or causing issues will have the recurring dream of being chased.”
Pay attention to the thing chasing you — they symbolize an unpleasant feeling or situation that you try not to think about in real life. It can be debt or addiction. Are you chased by a person you know? Think about what or who you associate this person with. They might indicate some other person or even a part of your personality that you don’t want to admit (like a hidden talent or aspiration) in your dream.
There’s also a theory saying that dreams about running away from someone are simply the echoes of primitive instincts that are in our genes thanks to our ancestors. All because they were constantly running from predators.
5. Inappropriate clothes or an absence of any
In your dream, you turn up in a public place wearing inappropriate clothes or not wearing anything at all. In this situation, it’s important to pay attention to the feelings you encountered in your dream. These dreams are usually followed by a feeling of shame and embarrassment.
Psychologist Ian Wallace notes, “It means that you feel vulnerable at your new job or in your new relationship and are afraid that others will learn about your weaknesses and disadvantages.” However, if you don’t feel any shame in your dream but instead feel proud of yourself, the dream has the opposite meaning. Perhaps you feel a lack of recognition and admiration and would like others to see your talents as well as your personality more.
6. A catastrophe or an apocalypse
We’ve all dreamed about natural or man-made disasters where we’re scared for our own lives and the lives of those close to us. These dreams might indicate personal problems that have gotten out of control or are a result of feeling threatened by something. Of course, constant messages in the media about catastrophes and terrorist acts worsen the situation. As a result, we start feeling vulnerable in the modern world.
Sometimes, when having a nightmare, we try to shout out loud but feel that our voice has left us, which causes an even bigger fear. Psychologists explain it as sleep paralysis. During the last phase of sleep, when we have dreams, our brain purposefully paralyzes the body so that we can lie still and not “live” in our sleep by running, jumping, etc. People who have sleep paralysis usually wake up before the end of the last phase and enter a state between sleep and reality for a short period. This can be felt as an inability to move, speak, and, in some cases, breathe.
7. Faulty equipment or vehicles
You try to use some gadget or device, and it breaks right away. For example, your phone stops working, and you can’t call anyone. According to Patricia Garfield, these dreams are more often experienced by women and symbolize worries about relationships or losing an emotional connection with someone.
Dreams in which you’re trying to operate a vehicle that doesn’t work properly or breaks down are in the same category. You are likely missing support and can’t cope with a difficult life situation by yourself.
8. Pregnancy
As strange as it might sound, it’s not only women who can have dreams about pregnancy. A psychologist name David Bedrick says, “Pregnancy symbolizes something new growing inside us.” You subconsciously dream about “giving birth” to a new fascinating creative project. It can be anything from writing a book to repairing a house. It’s time to set a goal and show the world how you can take on this new role.
If you’re not pregnant in real life, you may be seeking fulfillment after having such a dream.
9. Being late
Dreams that have you running after a departing train or running late for an important meeting can occur quite often. According to a dream expert, Michael R. Olsen, they can symbolize the fear of missing out on something very important in your relationships or in the upbringing of your child, for example. If you’re constantly overwhelmed and don’t have much time to accomplish things in real life, your subconscious is signaling that it’s time for you to reconsider your schedule and free up time for really important things.
10. An unknown room
Dreams about new rooms are about self-knowledge. If you find yourself in an unknown house in your dream, it means that you don’t know yourself well and try to neglect some sides of your character. A separate unfamiliar room symbolizes that you have a hidden talent, skill, or opportunity that you don’t use.
A psychotherapist named Eddie Traversa thinks that we subconsciously associate some rooms with certain processes. A kitchen is a place where products get transformed into a finished dish which means that you’re currently going through some inner changes. A bathroom is a symbol of freeing oneself from unnecessary baggage. It might symbolize that it’s time to get rid of something that is not needed any longer. A bathroom is a symbol of cleansing and it means that you feel the necessity to clarify things or see them in a different light. A bedroom signifies the things that worry you in your romantic relationship.
Have you ever experienced any of these dreams or do you usually see something different? Please tell us about it in the comments!
Cleaner Stepped Into a Stranger’s Home — Then a Stack of Birthday Cards Revealed a Heartbreaking Secret
When Claire agrees to clean a reclusive woman’s neglected home, she expects dirt and clutter — but not the eerie feeling of a house frozen in time. As she sorts through the piled-up mess, she finds a stack of birthday cards that leads her to a heartbreaking revelation.
My phone buzzed as I packed my cleaning caddy. Another day, another home that needed cleaning.
A cell phone in someone’s back pocket | Source: Pexels
“Clean Slate Services, this is Claire,” I answered, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder as I checked my supply of microfiber cloths.
“Hello?” The voice was elderly and tentative. “My name is Margaret. My daughter suggested I contact you. She said you post videos online about helping people clean their homes?”
I smiled, thinking of the before-and-after videos that had become surprisingly popular.
A woman in a store room speaking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
My small cleaning business may not have been setting the world on fire, but scrubbing suburban floors and dusting small offices served a greater purpose. Those jobs allowed me to offer free cleaning services to people in need.
“That’s me,” I replied to Margaret. “How can I help?”
“It’s not for me.” Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “It’s my neighbor, Eleanor. She needs help. She won’t ask for it, but she needs it.”
Something in her tone made me stop what I was doing.
A concerned woman speaking on her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
I’d heard this kind of concern before — the worry that comes when someone watches another person slowly disappear.
“Tell me about Eleanor,” I said, sitting down on a nearby stool.
Margaret sighed. “Her yard is completely overgrown now. There are newspapers piling up on her porch that she never brings in. I tried checking on her last week and she barely opened the door, but when she did…” Margaret paused. “There was a bad smell. And what I could see behind her… it wasn’t good.”
A woman using her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
My stomach tightened. I knew what that meant.
“It wasn’t always like this,” Margaret continued. “She used to be out in her garden all the time. Her roses won ribbons at the county fair. Then, one day… she just stopped. She’s a good person, Claire. I just… something’s terribly wrong.”
I hesitated for only a moment. These calls never came at convenient times, but that was the nature of crises.
A worried-looking woman in a supply room | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I promised. “What’s the address?”
After hanging up, I texted Ryan, my husband and business partner: Emergency clean-up. Not sure how bad yet. May need backup.
His response came immediately: On standby. Let me know.
I grabbed my “first assessment” kit — gloves, mask, basic cleaning supplies, and a change of clothes. Experience had taught me to always be prepared for the worst.
A variety of cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels
Eleanor’s house was a modest one-story with faded blue siding. The lawn had transformed into a meadow and dead flowers hung in forgotten window boxes. The mailbox listed to one side, stuffed with envelopes.
I knocked and waited. Nothing. I knocked again, louder.
Finally, I heard shuffling footsteps. The door opened just an inch, revealing a sliver of a woman’s face.
A woman peeking through a slightly open door | Source: Midjourney
She was pale, with unkempt hair and tired eyes that widened at the sight of my company polo shirt.
“I don’t need a cleaning service,” she muttered, already starting to close the door.
“I’m not here to sell anything,” I said quickly, keeping my tone gentle. “Margaret asked me to come. She’s worried about you. She thought you might need help.”
Eleanor’s jaw set in a hard line. “I can handle it myself.”
A woman speaking harshly | Source: Midjourney
I took a slow breath. I recognized this tone. This kind of resistance was not pride, but shame. It was the same way my mother used to react when concerned neighbors or teachers would ask about the piles of boxes filling our house.
“My mom used to say the same thing. ‘I can handle it.’ But sometimes, handling it means letting someone help,” I said softly. “I know what it’s like, Eleanor, how it all builds up. That’s why I started my cleaning business, so I could clean homes for free for people who need a fresh start.”
A woman on a porch speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“A fresh start…” Eleanor sighed the words as though she barely dared to believe them.
For the first time, her eyes flicked up to meet mine. Something flickered there — hope, maybe. Or simply exhaustion. There was a long pause where I could almost see her weighing her options. Then her face crumpled.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she whispered.
A woman whispering sadly | Source: Midjourney
“You don’t have to,” I assured her. “That’s why I’m here. Maybe you could spend the day with Margaret while I work? It might be easier that way.”
Eleanor hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. Finally, she nodded. “Let me get my purse.”
She disappeared behind the door for a moment. When she emerged, she was wearing a cardigan that had seen better days and carrying a worn leather handbag. I noticed how she kept her eyes down, avoiding looking at her front yard.
Withered plants near a fence in a neglected yard | Source: Pexels
We walked together to Margaret’s house next door. Eleanor moved cautiously, like each step required calculation. Her shoulders hunched forward slightly, as if she was carrying something heavy.
Margaret answered her door with surprise that quickly melted into joy.
“Eleanor! Oh, it’s so good to see you out,” she exclaimed. “Come in, come in. I just made a fresh pot of tea.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Eleanor managed a small smile as she stepped inside. “Thank you, Margaret.”
Margaret caught my eye over Eleanor’s shoulder and mouthed a silent “thank you.” I nodded and headed back to Eleanor’s house, already pulling out my phone.
“Ryan? I need you to bring the industrial garbage bags. And maybe a respirator.”
A concerned woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
Ryan arrived 30 minutes later, a box of our heavy-duty cleaning supplies in his arms. He took one look inside the house and exhaled sharply.
“She’s been living like this?” he asked, his voice muffled by the mask he’d already put on.
I nodded. “For years, I’d guess.”
The house wasn’t packed floor to ceiling with junk, but it was suffocating. Dishes with dried food crusted onto them formed precarious towers in the sink. Mold crept along the baseboards.
Dirty dishes in a sink | Source: Pexels
The air was stagnant, heavy with the smell of neglect.
I pulled on my gloves and mask. “Focus on bagging up the obvious trash in the living room and kitchen, please — rotting takeout containers, empty packaging, bottles. I’ll start in the bedrooms.”
Ryan nodded, already opening a trash bag. “Got it. I’ll leave the sorting to you.”
I moved carefully across the living room, noting the layer of dust on the television screen.
A dirty and untidy living room | Source: Midjourney
The master bedroom was in similar disarray. There were clothes piled on chairs and a bed that hadn’t been made in what looked like months. Prescription bottles for anti-depressants and sleep aids were nestled among the junk on the nightstand.
The labels were all for Eleanor. Anti-depressants. Sleep aids. Another familiar sign.
But it was the second bedroom that stopped me cold.
A bedroom door | Source: Pexels
I pushed open the door and immediately felt like I’d stepped into a different house.
Dust floated in the air, catching in the slant of light from a single, grime-streaked window. Cobwebs dangled everywhere, like drapes. The lack of trash in here made it feel abandoned in a way that sent shivers down my spine.
A twin bed sat against one wall, covered with dust. A model solar system hung from the ceiling, also brown with dust, the planets tilting at odd angles from years of stillness.
A model solar system hanging from a ceiling | Source: Midjourney
A dresser stood against the far wall. Inside, I found children’s clothes, neatly folded. T-shirts small enough for a nine or ten-year-old. Superhero pajamas. School uniforms.
I exhaled slowly. This room wasn’t a storage space. It was a memorial.
I carefully closed the drawer and left the room exactly as I’d found it. I’d dust it later, but for now, there were bigger problems.
A woman in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
As I cleaned the house, I unearthed framed photographs on a dusty bookshelf. A young boy with dark curls grinned at the camera. In another, the same boy sat on a man’s shoulders, both of them laughing.
But as I found more photos, something gnawed at me. There were no pictures of the boy past the age of ten, or so. All the clothes I’d found earlier were for a child around that age.
In the master bedroom, I found a small stack of birthday cards addressed to “Michael” tucked inside a nightstand drawer.
Trash and junk on a nightstand | Source: Gemini
There were cards for every birthday from his first to his 13th. The text in the 13th birthday card was shaky, mostly illegible handwriting. All I could make out was “…would’ve been 13 today.”
Would’ve been? A heavy feeling settled over my heart as I began putting the pieces together. There was always a reason people lost control over the state of their homes, and I suspected this child was part of Eleanor’s reason.
By early afternoon, Ryan and I had made considerable progress. We’d cleared most of the floors and built a mountain of trash bags on the curb.
Trash bags on a sidewalk | Source: Midjourney
The kitchen countertops were visible now, and the sink sparkled. The living room had been vacuumed, the surfaces dusted and disinfected.
“I’ll start on the bathroom,” Ryan said, filling a bucket with hot water and bleach.
I nodded. “I’ll finish up in here.”
As I opened a kitchen drawer looking for stray utensils, I found a folded newspaper, yellowed at the edges. I almost threw it out, but then a name caught my eye: Eleanor.
A folded newspaper | Source: Pexels
My breath stilled as I scanned the headline: “Local Father Dies in High-Speed Crash En Route to Hospital.”
According to the article, James had been speeding to get to County General when he lost control of his vehicle. His ten-year-old son, Michael, had been rushed to the same hospital hours earlier by Eleanor, his mother, and James’s wife.
James never made it to see his son.
A woman holding a newspaper | Source: Midjourney
I closed my eyes, absorbing the weight of it. He’d been rushing to see his sick son, and then he was gone. The article didn’t mention what had happened to Michael, but the birthday cards and the second bedroom suggested she’d lost him, too.
No wonder it had all gotten too much for Eleanor.
I wiped my hands on my jeans and headed to Margaret’s house. I needed to speak to Eleanor.
A sad and determined woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
Eleanor was still at Margaret’s kitchen table, hands curled around a now-cold mug of tea. She looked up as I entered, her eyes questioning.
I sat across from her, placing the folded newspaper on the table.
“I found this,” I said quietly.
Eleanor didn’t move. Her eyes fixed on the paper but then shifted away.
“I should have thrown that away years ago,” she whispered.
A woman’s face in shadow | Source: Pexels
“But you didn’t.” My voice was gentle. Not accusatory, just observing.
The silence stretched between us. Margaret stood by the sink, her hands clutched together.
“Michael developed severe asthma when he was four,” Eleanor finally said, her voice flat, as if she’d told this story so many times in her head that the words had lost their power. “We managed it for years, but…” Her voice wobbled.
A woman at a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney
“Michael’s condition worsened suddenly. I had to rush him to the hospital one day. I called James and he… he was driving too fast.”
Her breath shuddered.
“He never made it. And Michael… a week later, he was gone, too.”
A hard lump settled in my throat. To lose both of them so close together…
I reached across the table and placed my hand over Eleanor’s. “The room. You kept it exactly the same.”
A woman’s hand | Source: Pexels
Eleanor nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. “At first, it felt wrong to change anything. Then, as time passed, it felt wrong to even go in there. So I just… closed the door.”
“And the birthday cards?” I asked softly.
“I couldn’t help myself.” She wiped at her eyes with her free hand. “For three years afterward, I bought my son a birthday card. I wrote him a message I wished he could read. I thought I was just working through my grief, but it became more painful instead of less. It was silly.”
A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“No,” Margaret said firmly, coming to sit beside Eleanor. “It’s not silly at all. It’s love.”
Eleanor broke then, her shoulders shaking with years of bottled grief. Margaret moved her chair closer, putting an arm around her.
“It wasn’t just Michael and James,” Eleanor managed between sobs. “It was me, too. Part of me died with them. And I just… I couldn’t keep up with everything. The house, the yard… it all seemed so pointless, so exhausting.”
A sad woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Grief can swallow you whole,” I said quietly. “My mom went through something similar after my dad left. Not the same, but… things piled up. Literally.”
Eleanor looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “How did she get past it?”
“She didn’t, not really. Not on her own.” I squeezed her hand. “I helped where I could, but we both needed more than that. Eventually, she got therapy. Made some friends at a support group. It wasn’t a straight line to better.”
A woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
Margaret stroked Eleanor’s back gently. “You don’t have to be alone in this anymore.”
Eleanor wiped her eyes again. “The house… is it awful?”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” I assured her. “I called in back up and we’ve made good progress. Would you like to see?”
Eleanor nodded. Moments later, she stood hesitantly in the doorway of her home.
A front door and porch | Source: Pexels
Ryan stood aside, a nervous half-smile on his face.
“We’re not totally finished,” he explained. “But it’s getting there.”
Eleanor stepped inside slowly. The living room was transformed — floors cleaned, surfaces dusted, clutter removed.
She moved through the space as if in a dream, touching things, testing their reality. When she reached the closed door of the second bedroom, she froze.
A woman looking anxious | Source: Pexels
“We didn’t touch that room,” I said quickly. “I wanted to ask first.”
Eleanor nodded but didn’t open the door.
“Thank you.” She turned to face us. “Thank you both.”
Her eyes filled with tears again, but these seemed different. Relief, maybe. Or the first hint of something like peace.
“We’ll come back tomorrow to finish up, if that’s okay,” I offered. “The bathroom needs more work, and there’s still the yard…”
“Yes,” Eleanor said, and for the first time, I saw the shadow of a smile on her face. “That would be… yes.”
A woman smiling faintly | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Eleanor was ready when we arrived. She had put on a clean blouse and combed her hair.
“Margaret invited me over for breakfast,” she told us. “And then we might look at some plants for the garden. If that’s all right?”
“That sounds perfect,” I said.
While Ryan tackled the overgrown yard with our garden tools, I finished the bathroom and laundry room. By mid-afternoon, the house was transformed. Not perfect, but livable. Clean. Fresh.
A clean and tidy home | Source: Pexels
When Eleanor returned, Margaret was with her, carrying a small tray of potted herbs.
“For the kitchen window,” Margaret explained.
Eleanor surveyed her house, her yard, her life — all visible now, all accessible again.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.
“You don’t have to,” I replied.
As Ryan and I packed up our supplies, I watched Eleanor and Margaret at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. Something had shifted in Eleanor, like a door had opened, letting in light.
Coffee mugs on a table | Source: Pexels
I thought about my mother, about how hard it had been for her to accept help when her mental health started to deteriorate. She was the reason I’d started doing these free cleans in the first place, so nobody would have to suffer the same way.
Ryan caught my eye and smiled. “Another successful clean slate?”
I nodded, watching the two older women through the window as we walked to our van. “The cleanest.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
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