I don't believe that dreams are anything more than your unconscious mind processing random information, but I keep thinking about the possibilities and apply meaning where there probably isn't any.
So the first few times I had this dream, it was virtually the same each time. It would start with me buying a house that belonged to someone in my or my ex's families. It had maybe four bedrooms and looked like your average 1980-1990's suburban home on the outside. On the inside, it looked like a typical house, but after exploring it further, I would always come across a whole portion of the house that had been hidden. Usually it would be a large living room with attached dining room and kitchen and appeared like a time capsule with vintage trimmings that hadn't been touched in decades. It made no sense architecturally. Like the tardis, the inside was exponentially larger than the outside. It was like an entire house was hidden within it. I recall it having a hallway of doors, an ornate office fit for a distinguished lawyer with a giant winged back black leather chair, and a dark solid wood desk. In other dreams, the house would have a spiraling stone staircase leading to an impeccably kept labyrinth blocked by an ornate iron gate and glass. Think 1600-1700 Baroque architecture. In another dream, I recall ascending stairs into a tower overlooking the city, but once again barred from further exploration. In the dream I had this morning, I'm back in the house, but this time I'm trying to find the living room in the first dream. Something about it felt significant; it reminded me of my late grandmothers living room with her soft floral velvet couch. Instead, I find myself stuck entering and exiting the same few rooms trapped in a circle, ducking under and stepping over strange and poorly designed rooms. My dreams aren't linear; at some point, there's a woman and her young son that pass through my dream; in another part, a man enters caring plants, a gardener maybe, a waterfall forms from a ceiling, a rooms sprinkler system rains down on me. It's at this point that I give up trying to escape. But just as I give up, I realize I've never once gone backwards. Only forwards. It's only when I look back and up that I see an overhang for the first time. I step up onto a railing and lift myself onto the ledge. Once on top of the ledge, I'm faced with a wall containing a giant bears head mounted on a plaque flanked by bronze wall sconces. Next to it is a massive wooden door that nearly takes up the entire wall. The doors swing open suddenly and out pours a small group of my friends, family (both living and dead) and some of my idols, people that I've come to admire over the years but have never met. They're all dressed up in the same strange fancy period clothing that I can't place, but they look great, and they're happy. They congratulate me on finally completing the puzzle and thereby discoverimg their secret society. At this point I'm internally freaking out, I'm seeing dead relative, and amazing people that I didn't think knew I existed. One of them comes forward and puts a hand on my shoulder, reassuring me that everything was going to be ok, while leading me into the room behind the giant wooden doors. We enter into an elegant and elaborately decorated large lounge. The drapes are made of thick velvet, everything is soaked in oppulance. There's a bar, a record player with a floral horn and in a distant corner I'm lead to a small antique trunk. It's propped open on a chair and inside there's some loosely folded black satin fabric. I rummage through it and find black bean bags and small jagged silver saw blades. The man explains that we're going to play a game with the bags and if I'm any good then I can progress to throwing the blades. After this exchange we sort of form a loose circle and each young person shares their story of how they discovered the room. The little boy and his mother beam with pride because he found it as a young child just moments before me. I explain how I had found areas of the societies quarters ages ago, but no one cared then. My grandmother takes the blame saying she couldn't always keep track of me in the house and that's when I woke up.