'O puorco

'O puorco. In a tradition born where hunger was a real possibility, the pig is the number of abundance — and not as a figure of speech: it was the animal you raised all year long that got you through the hard winter months, and of which, as people used to say, nothing went to waste. Four carries that memory: things set aside, a full pantry, tomorrow taken care of. In dreams, four arrives when material security is involved. A full plate, a contract that lets you breathe, groceries bought without counting. But it also brings its own excess: too much turning into a burden, stuff piled up that you don’t need, the thin line between being comfortable and not being able to do without. The images that lead here tell it well. The pig, of course. And then the door and the bed, two things that speak of shelter. The bed, in the Smorfia, isn’t just rest — it’s being able to afford to let your guard down, which is the most concrete form of abundance there is. If four has shown up in your dream, it isn’t telling you something is on its way. It’s pointing out that the dream was about what you’ve put somewhere safe: the bed, the pantry, sleep, your things. It’s worth asking yourself whether it feels like enough — and whether what you’ve piled up still shelters you or has started to get in your way.