Sunday, March 18, 2012

Wicked



Do you have a dark side? Yes, you do.
The Dream: An image of a wicked woman; her hat is composed of a lampshade in yellow, green, and orange. A voice in the dream says that a lampshade both conceals and reveals illumination.

Interpretation: This dream attempts to bring my dark (wicked) side to some level of consciousness (illumination.) The dream hints that I won’t get it, at least not entirely. It tells me that what’s on top of my head (my current thoughts, symbolized by the lampshade) conceals as well as reveals insight (illumination). From the way I have drawn the wicked woman I can see that I find her attractive and powerful—she's not something I am likely to eradicate. That might be okay, as long as I can know her for what she really is.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Guest Dreamer: My Inner Light



Today’s guest dream comes from artist and writer Gail Gray who has recently published Shaman Circus. She had the dream the night before her 61st birthday.

The Dream:  I was at the Burgholzi Clinic in Zurich and Dr. Carl Jung was there.  He had asked many of us to bring our “patients” into a room so he could see how we were doing with their analyses.  At first we were all worried, what would these unusual people do with each other?  Would there be trouble?  Would they get along?

So I left and got my patient (I never saw myself in the dream, I just know it was me in my own skin walking around and doing things. I never talked.  I came back with my “patient” who was a large teddy bear sort of man, mute, who carried a large mason jar full of lightening bugs.  He moved very slowly--as if in a dream within my dream, sort of “not with it,” - a lumbering giant. The man himself was sad and poignant, not quite sure what to do. I was uncomfortable and feeling bad because I hadn't made much progress with my giant and had not come to know him very well. There wasn't much action after this, even when other people brought in their “patients,” except that we were all rather mesmerized by the beauty of the light in the jar, but also the bittersweet sadness of them being trapped in a jar. 

When I woke on my birthday I was elated, even though in the dream I'd been uncomfortable because of the remarkable appearance of Jung.

Carla’s thoughts: As usual when interpreting a guest dream, I’ll react to Gail’s dream as if it were my own. (If you would like to know why, read this post: Cement Men of Mars.)

Here’s my take on Gail’s dream: Dr. Jung has asked me (the dream ego) to produce my patient (a part of myself that I don’t entirely accept) so that he can assess my progress in analyzing (understanding and integrating) him. My concern about whether or not my patient will get along with the others hints at a social discomfort: I am afraid of conflict or some sort of disharmony if I allow this part of me out in public. The fact that I’m not talking in the dream tells me that I’m dealing with something that is unconscious: it can’t be “verbalized” or discussed—at least not yet.

Because my patient evokes a “teddy bear” he symbolizes my vulnerable inner child, possibly the Divine Child archetype (he carries light). That he is large tells me he represents something that is very important to me; and that he’s mute emphasizes the nonverbal, unconscious element that my own silence in the dream alludes to. This child has not been able to get through to me (he’s not quite sure what to do, and I feel bad because I don’t know him very well). The crux of the dream, however, lies in this unusual detail about the figure:  He is the source of a mesmerizing--if confined--light.

Dr. Jung represents my healing journey toward getting in touch with this source of light within me. The word “patient” is repeated four times in this relatively short dream, hinting that I need to be patient in order to understand the spiritual truth of the light I carry. My light is carried in a Mason jar; a mason works with stone; revealing this light is hard (as stone) for me.

The timing of this dream is significant. Because I had this dream on the eve of my birthday, it symbolizes the birth of a new understanding. I am elated because I’ve begun to experience my own inner light, and I can anticipate freeing it from its previously limited existence (in the mason jar).

The dreamer always gets the last word, so I encourage Gail to leave us her thoughts in a comment.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

The Resurrection of Don



Dreams about the departed are called visitation dreams. Whether or not the person we dream about lives on in some external realm, it's clear he lives on in our internal reality. 
The Dream: I am at Ruth’s house. The entry wall is wider than it is in waking life; it’s a room with a table, like a dining room. The staircase is in its normal place. Someone says that Don is upstairs. I feel concern, thinking that this person does not know that Don has died. 
“Don is dead,” I tell her. She goes upstairs to verify what I’ve said.
“No,” she says, when she returns. “He’s upstairs, and he wants to see you.”
“I’m not going up there,” I say.
Don comes down, naked from the waist up, radiant and glowing with health. He glows with something else besides. I am filled with joy to discover he is alive and healthy.

Interpretation: Visitation dreams are a way of grappling with the anxiety and loss we feel after a death. The dining table in the entry way tells me that the dream has come to provide some sustenance. Don is “upstairs,” in other words, he’s in my thoughts. I try to accept his death by telling myself (in the guise of the person who doesn’t know) that Don has died, but I don’t really believe it. I go upstairs to see for myself.  There I see that he does live—upstairs; in my mind he’s alive, while at the same time my down-to-earth self (the part who insists on remaining on the ground floor) refuses to accept it. I won’t go there. But Don gets the last word, as he often did: he won’t allow me to deny him life after death: he appears, transformed and radiant, and I am also transformed by joy when I see this new reality.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Mary in the Water



The Dream: I am with my friend Mary at an outdoor bar. We have been talking and talking, and I wonder if she is finding all this chat tedious. She decides to go home and take a bath. I am concerned that people can see into her apartment from where we had been sitting. The bar is not at ground level—it’s at about the same height as Mary’s apartment. From here we can clearly see her in the tub. She’s at the far end of the room, splashing about, twisting and turning in the water like a dolphin.

Interpretation: My East European grandmother used to call the Statue of Liberty “Mary on the Water.” In this dream “Mary in the Water” represents my desire for the freedom (liberty) to splash around in the waters of the unconscious like a dolphin. Mary is tired of chatting; she prefers the non-verbal unconscious. The dream ego (the “I” of the dream) responds to the freedom-seeking unknown part of myself (Mary) with concern; on-lookers can see my exposure. The dream message: some sort of social pressure is limiting my freedom. And my tub (my vision of freedom’s possibilities) could be larger. 

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Flying or Falling?



The Dream: I am about to fly; I’m pushing off from a wall with my feet. I think, however, that it looks to those on the ground as if I might be about to kill myself.

Interpretation: As one part of me works to get beyond the block (push off from the wall) so that I can grow (fly), another part sees what I’m doing as reckless and dangerous—even self-destructive.  A future dream must resolve this conflict.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Men in Hats



Dream Image: A panel with three heads in 16th c. hats.

Interpretation: The hats represent the different roles I play; the date (16th c) tells me that these roles were defined for me sometime in the past, perhaps when I was 16. The green background, alluding to growth, says it’s time to grow past these old ways of being in the world: it’s time for a change, and I need to remember that change starts with a rearrangement of my fixed ideas, in other words, in the head beneath the hat.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Time and Eternity



Can color and texture hold a dream's meaning? Read on.

The Dream: My child is wearing a red crocheted dress over a lavender and purple silky skirt; in some way these pieces don’t go together. The child is very pleased with herself for selecting this outfit and doesn’t seem to realize the pieces clash.

Interpretation: The meaning of this dream lies in its colors and textures. The color red is associated with life (childbirth, menstruation) and death (flowing blood). A crocheted texture is rough and bumpy. Taken together, the red color and uneven texture of the crocheted dress symbolize the rough road of our lives in time.  Meanwhile, underneath, is a silky smooth violet garment. According to Tony Crisp’s Dream Dictionary, violet often “appears in dreams containing a deep sense of one’s eternal nature . . . .” My intuitive (child) awareness can accept these two apparently contradictory modes of being: temporal and eternal. (She doesn’t realize they clash.) On the other hand my reason (the adult) can’t accept the dichotomy, pointing out that the pieces “don’t go together.”