Wednesday, March 2, 2011

My Cup Runs Over


The Dream: I am at a church function, in a crowded hall filled with chairs and circular tables. The light level is dim; it is noisy and busy. I am in a long line of people waiting, cafeteria style, to get food. The person dispensing the food has the outgoing charm of a bartender. He is bright and shiny, with curly blond hair and angelic good looks. He is,in fact, the vicar. I’m aware that I think very highly of him.

When my turn comes I order a chicken sandwich. The vicar seems to work efficiently, but time goes by, and my food does not appear. After a while I see a tray near me and take it, soon realizing it’s not a chicken sandwich but has a small round quiche and some delicious looking salads. “Umm,” I think “this is clearly someone else’s, but it looks better than what I ordered so I’ll take it. I’m sure the other person will be able to sort it out.” I am feeling just that little bit uneasy about taking someone else’s food, which may have cost more than my chicken sandwich, but expediency wins the day, and I go on my way with my ill gotten gain, looking for a free table. I’m also looking forward to eating this delicious plate of food.

But wait! Now I notice that the lovely round quiche is half-eaten, with clear little bite marks where the rest of the quiche should be. I have someone’s half-eaten dinner. “Shall I eat it anyway?” I wonder. The thought of a stranger’s germs becomes too distasteful; I get back into the food line in order to exchange this meal for my chicken sandwich.

When I get to the front of the line I ask the attractive vicar/bartender/angelic presence for my chicken sandwich, explaining I’d been given (or erroneously picked-up) someone else’s half-eaten tray of food. He says fine: then he puts a number of goblets on a tray, fills them with various liqueurs, and pours a great deal of vodka over all. It spills down, making a large puddle on the tray around the bases of the goblets. I begin to question, to myself, this attractive fellow’s competence.

But I say nothing, taking my tray of drink away and searching for some friends to share it with. I find my friend Alice. I know she prefers drinking to eating, so I think she’ll enjoy this. But then I remember she is an alcoholic.

Interpretation:
To sum up the dream’s message: I mustn’t be a chicken (cowardly). I need to go after what I want in life. I will only get what I deserve, not necessarily what I want. In any case, my cup runneth over. My gifts (the drinks) are meant to be shared, but I must share them with discretion. What I have to give is not for everyone, as symbolized by my ill-advised attempt to share drinks with an alcoholic.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Because the setting is in a church, for me, I see this dream as a reflection on my internal beliefs, spiritual or otherwise. I will no longer eat "cafeteria style" or eat someone's else's food because of their "germs" or contaminated ideas. In other words, this dream is a beautiful example of my individuation process. The word "vodka" is a derivative of "water" and is one of the purest alcoholic beverages - consisting of "spirit and water" (see online Dictionary). I receive this "vodka" from an angelic being - a being who is the link between this world and the other world of spirit. I have been given so much, and it is overflowing. I have way more than what I need, and I have plenty more to give. Perhaps it's the way in which I think I should give that is the question of the dream. There are the different ways to search for spirit - those that do so literally (alcoholics) or those that do so other ways (dream work, mediation, prayer, writing, etc). I am reminded from something I read that when we reach our fullness, our own inner light, we cannot just give it away to others (a Wisdom interpretation of the parable about the Bridesmaids and candle wax). Others need to find it on their own, they can't take it from us. Thus, the alcoholic friend is unable to receive your gift; she needs to do her own process, or individuation. Yes, these gifts need to be shared with discretion, or perhaps because the dream exaggerated the abundance of these gifts via numerous goblets (Holy Grail success?), ego may just need to note this and say thank-you. Emily

Carla Young said...

Thank you, Emily, for bringing up the spiritual element in this dream, and for all the allusions you have uncovered. You've given me a lot to think about. The spiritual message seems clear now that you mention it--but I had totally overlooked that possibility, despite the strong hints from the setting (a church), the angel/vicar, and the spirits (alcohol) given out. Also an interesting tie-in if one thinks of alcoholism as a disease of the spirit.

Anonymous said...

My take on the vicar/bartender/angelic presence is similar to yours; he falls short of tending to the people he is supposed to be helping. The alcohol in the dream speaks to me of "spirit" albeit concretized but there nonetheless. There are seven glasses...if it were my dream, I would be wondering about the significance of that number.

Spiritual issues were the driving energy that caused my life to be turned upside down. Carl Jung and paying attention to my dreams literally saved my life. When I saw your My Cup Runs Over dream, coming from my place in the pew, it spoke to me in a very different way reminding me that I need to find my own spiritual truths not someone else's half-eaten fare. That's what I love about dreamwork, it's truly something that needs to be shared.

Finding your blog has encouraged me to begin recording my dreams again. After just a a few days, I feel the inner fullness that comes with paying attention to the unconscious which never sleeps. I look forward to sharing the dream journey with you.

Carla Young said...

My readers are clearly more astute than I was in interpreting this dream. Thank you. This most recent comment reminds me that both Carl Jung and the Buddha tell us each must find her own path to enlightenment. And if I have encouraged someone to once again pay attention to her inner voice as expressed in her dreams, than this blog has fulfilled its mission.

Anonymous said...

Carl Jung met with Bill Wilson (Bill W.) prior to Bill's founding of AA back in the 30's. He told Bill W. that alcoholics lacked a spiritual foundation (not those exact words, but close enough as far as I can gather). I've never been able to find the exact information or dates of any meetings between Jung and Wilson, and I would someday love to know the details. But, yes, alcoholism is a disease of the spirit. As is any addiction from substances to technology. It takes courage and discipline to learn to listen to our dreams, let alone share them and comment on them. To me, that's what makes us human. Through our dreams we connect deeply with ourselves and with others. I am grateful dream work and this blog has brought another back to life. Emily

Post a Comment