The little wooden house

One day a picture came into my mind. It was of a rather shabby little wooden, porched house, which looked out onto a large area enclosed by a high wooden fence. The area was of struggling short grass, bare patches, all very unloved but my. what a wonderful place that would be to live, do up. What potential for a lovely place. Safe too with that fence.

I knew it was important, and talked to my partner about it. He was excited, maybe it was where we were going to end up living. I wanted that to be true, but....kinda knew in myself that it symbolised my mind.

The next time it popped up in my head, things were a little different. There were veggies growing down the bottom, a few little plants growing up the porch and it all felt rather nice. 
The next time, I almost fell over. It was beautiful. Flowers grew everywhere, all of them white. It was just wonderful. 
Next time, another shock. The fences had disappeared. It took a little time to get used to that, but I then started to prefer it.
The last time was a couple of days ago......The area in front of the house had disappeared, just some rock in front which I was standing on looking out over a wonderful view of sky and a landscape lower down.

Did I mention that I am one of those folk on a spiritual journey?