Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Guest Dreamer: Uninvited Guest

Today's guest dreamer, Myamystic, is looking for the key that will unlock her dream. It's found by looking beyond the waking life people who populate her dream to figure out which part of her the characters represent.
The Dream: My dream kicks off with me visiting my boyfriend in Mumbai. I enter the house with a key, I don’t know how I got it. The house is in total darkness and empty. I then realise that I am in his parent’s house and am about to leave when the parents return . . . . The mother gets all worked and questions me.

I apologise and leave with my bags.

Carla's thoughts: It's certainly possible that a dream like this is about Myamystic's feelings about her boyfriend's parents, or about how she feels society judges her relationship. She will know if that is the case. It's also possible that the dream is about her own feelings, and in this analysis I'll explore the dream from that point of view. As usual, I'll talk about Myamystic's dream as if it were my own.

In this dream I'm working through my feelings about intimacy. How do I feel about this relationship? How do I think it will go? The key represents a new insight. The "uninvited guest" of my dream title refers to these unconscious thoughts intruding into consciousness. I've been in the dark about my own feelings when it comes to closeness and trust: I am exploring unknown territory here, and that's why the dream is set in someone else's house.

I am in his parent’s house. All the people in a dream have been created by the dreamer and have more to do with her than with the waking life people they represent. So I will look at what I have in common with the dream mother. Like her, am I worked up, suspicious? Do I feel that someone has invaded my space just as the dream ego has invaded this woman's house? Perhaps I'd like an explanation for things about my boyfriend that I don't understand, or about feelings I have that I've pushed away.

That I apologize tells me I might be wrong here. There's something I haven't seen (I've been in the dark). The luggage I take away represents my emotional baggage, things from the past that I'm still lugging around. I think my dream wants me to look at these things in a new way in hopes that it will be the key to my avoiding an empty house (loneliness).

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Guest Dreamer: Coming Up

In Elizabeth's dream a lot has come up; let's take a look at it.

The Dream: I was in a large house (not my own, but I felt comfortable there), on a lake or sea (I'm not sure which-but it was large, calm, but vast). I was with several couples, whom I knew in the dream and felt at ease with but can't put names on most after awakening. I was there with a young, prepubescent boy, and in the dream I felt obligation to have an intimate/sexual relationship of sorts with this boy. I felt it was not right, and I remember thinking it would have to wait until he had matured, if ever. This young boy brought me a condom, the condom was different than one I'd ever seen, it was large and reusable, similar in ways to a female condom. I felt absolute in my decision to not be with him when he asked how it worked, even though I myself was unsure. I took the condom and walked out onto the deck, and hid it under a computer desk there. The group was outside quickly after, and a few of them were going out on the water to go fishing. The next thing I remember in the dream is a woman "swimming" back towards the dock (this woman I believed to be a very good friend's mother, someone I've known for 16 years-extremely wealthy family, I feel close to them, but distant in some ways as I've gotten older). Except, she wasn't exactly swimming, she was kind of shooting through the water at warp speed and popped up at the deck I was standing on. Following behind her were thousands or more fish, dead fish, floating on the top of the water and drawn to the deck almost as if by a magnet attached to this woman. I asked how they had fished, and somehow (I don't remember who told me or if I just knew) understood that they had used a method of fishing that was controversial, possibly illegal. It was a weapon that exploded under water but sent out shrapnel to catch all the fish in a several mile radius.

The next thing I remember in the dream was a barge of junk that had been uprooted from the deep sea in the fishing process. At the top of the clump of objects floating in the water were several old, classic cars. As the barge of junk approached the deck, everything was becoming coated in this whiteness. Almost like spray foam that insulates windows, but it was covering everything. As I noticed this whiteness covering the barge of things, I was walking across it. It had formed a sort of large boat. As I was walking across it, I met my father (my waking life father), and we were looking at the old cars, walking from each one to another. I remember thinking I'd like to preserve one for him, possibly with paper-mache. As I walked back onto the deck, I approached a man from the group holding a paper. I asked what it was, and he told me it was a map that he'd commissioned to be made, but it was a secret. He showed me the map, and explained that there were 3 hidden rooms under the sea, and he'd had enough information to work with a mapmaker to find the coordinates. The map had to be a secret, because he would have been in trouble with everyone else if they'd known he'd done this. Suddenly, the man was no longer there and I was holding the map. As I noticed all the other people around, I quickly went to hide the map under the same computer desk on the deck as before, except it was also now covered in the white foam like the barge of sea junk. I hid the map next to the condom I'd earlier hid there. And that is when I remember awaking in my bed, and I grabbed the journal feeling an urgent need to write it down, that there was significance to it. When I re-read what I'd written, I only remembered half, and I barely remember writing it. It felt as though I was in a half-waking space...

Carla's thoughts: As usual with guest dreams, I will think about Elizabeth's dream as if it were my own and hope that it will inspire her to look at the images carefully to ferret out their meaning for her. Only the dreamer can figure out what her dream means, and that's because the images in a dream can mean completely different things to different people. I'm afraid there's no getting around the hard work of figuring out your own dreams.

In my version of Elizabeth's dream, the house represents my Self, the totality of who I am. While I am comfortable in this Self, I don't feel it belongs to me. In other words, I have yet to get in touch with my authentic core. This dream is placing me on course to make that discovery.

The sea is a birth metaphor: my rebirth will take place here. However, as with most of the images in this dream, the sea has contradictory meanings. Yes, it is the place of my rebirth, but it is also the place that obscures the feelings and experiences that make that rebirth a difficult one.

The young boy represents a part of myself that I'm deeply ambivalent about. I feel obligated to integrate, or unite with (have sex with) this aspect of myself, but at the same time this assimilation is distasteful to me (I don't feel it's the right thing to do), and I'm not ready for it (he's not mature.) A condom is something that prevents the union of sperm and egg, and here it symbolizes the barrier to finding out what my union with this young part of myself would bring to fruition. I temporarily avoid the problem by going outside (At least I'm in the process of airing the issue) and placing the impediment (the condom) in my subconscious (under the computer, or thinking function).

The other people in this dream represent various aspects of myself. At times they are the parts that hold the views of a disapproving society, but some are ready to fish around for what's going on in my depths. A pivotal role is played by the woman who swims back to the dock. With her the ambivalence surfaces again: she is someone I am both close to and distant from. This tells me that the information she symbolizes is getting close to consciousness even though I might want to keep it at a distance. Her wealth symbolizes the immensity of my potential.

This process is moving too quickly for my comfort. (She shoots through the water.) She comes from below the surface, and what she brings up is scary and distasteful. Water represents the flow of emotion, and dead fish, according to Tony Crisp, can symbolize the “ non-expression of basic urges.” The magnetic quality of this woman emphasizes the duality of attraction and repulsion, the same ambivalence that we saw earlier with my feelings about my potential sexual union with the young boy. Again I see that something isn't right: the fish (the basic instincts) have been caught in a way that is not only controversial but possibly illegal.

What was murky is bubbling up into enlightenment (the foam with its white color). The underwater explosion that results in foamy whiteness is also evocative of a male orgasm. Cars represent our “drives.” The classic cars take me back to the past, perhaps to a time of my life when one of those drives, the one that results in a male orgasm, would have seemed to me an overwhelming thing that covers (obscures?) everything. I meet my father (the holder of the society's values) and we walk around looking at the cars (drives). Why do I want to give him a paper mache car? Am I trying to make sex drives less substantial, transforming them from the steel of a classic car to the kind of paper children use in craft projects? This hints that the child part of myself does not want to accept adult sexuality. Or perhaps it doesn't want to accept its own (the child's) awareness of that sexuality.

Then I meet the man with the secret map. He is the part of me that is sorting out these old secrets of my Psyche. There are 3 hidden rooms under the sea (in my unconscious). Again we have the unacceptable, the thing I think I'm not supposed to acknowledge. (The mapmaker would be in trouble if it were known he was giving me the route to this secret world.) The map, now covered in the white foam, is stored next to the condom. The various things that I've deemed unacceptable have been dredged up from my depths and are now in one place. I can take them out and look at them when I am ready to: I'm the one who's put them here. These things, hidden right under the computer desk (consciousness) are now very close to the surface. At some point I'll be comfortable taking them out into the fresh air of the deck.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Little Dog

The Dream:
I'm in the back seat of a car. Someone has gotten a new puppy. I pick it up; it is fluffy and looks like a Wheaten Terrier, except that it's black and white like a Border Collie. It is very sweet and adorable and I fall in love with it, realizing this is not in line with my usual coolness toward dogs.

I'm not in the driver's seat (I've lost some control), and this has enabled me to have a more comfortable and accepting relationship with my instincts (my inner animal: the little dog). These instincts might still seem black and white to my conscious self, but at least they've they've taken on a friendly aspect, and I like them.The motherly "herder" and the playful terrier have been combined, signalling  that some psychic integration has taken place.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Still A Beginner

The Dream: I am waiting and waiting for a fellow to go skiing with. It is getting onto 4:00, about the time I would like to stop skiing for the day. At one point I think “Why did I wait for him? I should have just gone on by myself.” I think about what an inept skier I am, and how this fellow probably doesn't realize that and will be annoyed when he discovers it. I know it's a very long, but beautiful, lift ride up to the ski area. “By the time we get there,” I think, “it will be getting dark.”

Interpretation: In this attempt to do something that looks beautiful but that I seem to have difficulty grasping I see my struggle to create a meaningful life. I feel I'm running out of time. In feeling that others are impatient with my inadequacy I project my own harsh self-judgment onto them.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Guest Dreamer: The Game with the Strange Object

By the end of this dream the dreamer is a new woman. Today's guest dreamer is Kayla, who has started her own dream website that aims to connect readers to dream resources. As usual with guest dreamer posts, I will respond to Kayla's dream as if it were my own.

The Dream: I was in a crowded, but open space, like a gymnasium. I entered the space, where long foldable tables were set up in rows. I spotted my friend M, who works as a psychologist, at one of the tables. Individuals were milling around, talking, there was general buzz of conversation in the air. I noticed that people were taking places at the tables, so I hurried to get a place next to my friend M. I joined her by going under the table, as I wanted to hurry and get a spot. Because the tables were situated in long rows, I would have had to walk all the way around. I took a spot to her right and noticed that on the table, various objects were arranged. Sort of like a big yard sale, except they were not piled on top of each other, but arranged a certain number to each table, one in front of each place.

I noticed there were shoes, handbags and various other objects. I was looking at the table when a voice came over the loud speaker. I did not know what I was supposed to do, and I do not remember the words, but I noticed that when the voice came on, individuals all reached to grab or claim one item on the table. So, I reached to the right and claimed a strange object. It was a ring of printed cardboard or maybe thin plastic, that had some sort of print on it - and then there were paper/cardboard/thin plastic little people and objects that went with it. The cardboard ring was supposed to be a stylized world / globe, and the paper people/objects could be moved on different places on it - maybe with velcro? It was some sort of decoration and I thought I might put it on the refrigerator. The people/objects were stylized like the old fashioned pen and ink drawings / etchings (I am not sure exactly how the prints were created). See picture.

I remember the largest piece was a woman who was printed in this old-fashioned wood block print. I realized that the "game" was essentially this: everyone took his/her place at the table, the cue was given, everybody rushed to claim the object he/she wanted on the table, and then they took the object over to the cash register to pay for it. I felt pleased with the object I had gotten, even though it was chance I had gotten it, as I realized the rules of the game too late and had to grab what was left. I liked it, though, and went towards the line at the other side of the gymnasium to pay for it.

Carla's thoughts: The gym is a venue for activities that require practice: I am working to perfect a skill. The tables (Has something been tabled, i.e., stifled?) have aspects of a barrier: they are set up in rows, and I would have a difficult time getting around them. Yet the tables can be folded, which hints that the barrier they represent contains its own solution. In order to understand the significance of my friend M, the one I'm eager to be near, I have to think about her qualities so I can figure out what part of me she stands for in my dream. Since I want to be close to her, these are the qualities I want to encourage in myself. I join this friend by going under the table. Is there something shady about my action, for example, as in the expression “doing business under the table” to avoid paying tax? Does my under-the-table dive reflect my desire to take short-cuts in order to avoid the taxing effort that attaining my skills in the gymnasium requires? When I take my place on M's right I signal my willingness to allow this issue to come to the conscious level. 

Yard sales are generally held to get rid of items that are no longer useful. In my dream I've put these things into an organized framework where I can take a look at them. Shoes (walk a mile in my shoes) can represent my situation, and handbags, the holders of credit cards and I.D.'s, are closely linked to my sense of identity. I have tabled aspects of myself, and, as I contemplate my own complexity there's a free-for-all as I reclaim the parts I want to keep. I reach to the right, bringing a new realization to consciousness. I'm not used to it yet, so it seems strange at first. I see a globe and the people on it. There is an artificiality about this world. It's cardboard (not too substantial) or plastic (phony?) and the people are not truly a part of it; they are only attached with velcro. They aren't completely fleshed out: they lack color, and they are rendered in an old-fashioned style. This world and the people in it represent a part of my life that I have outgrown.

The largest piece to claim my attention is a woman. I haven't been willing to acknowledge her previously. (She's a wood block print.) The new woman that I am has emerged from the small out-dated world I once inhabited. I have grown, I now understand the “game.” I am pleased with my new ability to decipher the rules. I'm no longer going under the table to avoid paying what I should. I cross the gymnasium (the place where I've acquired my skill), and I accept responsibility for the new woman I am. (I'm willing to pay for it.)

Monday, August 12, 2013

Bird in the Hand

The Dream: I'm near a train station in the suburbs when I see something under a chair: it looks like a bird entangled in one of the chair legs. I can't tell if its a real bird or a stuffed toy. In some way the thing is off-putting and part of me wants to leave it where it is—but another part is intrigued.

I touch its soft fluffy feathers and realize it's a small purse in the shape of a bird atop a round bag. I am not sure what to do with this—whether to keep it or try to return it. I look inside and see a collection of children's silverware, little forks and spoons in a pattern very similar to my mother's silver. Suddenly I feel a desire, so strong it's physical, to keep this bag and its contents.

I go through the bag, struggling with myself. As I look at the things inside I realize it's a gift for a new mother. Besides the children's silverware, there's a CD that teaches relaxation techniques. I find a turquoise blue card with a name and address. Now that I have the name of the rightful owner I have a new quandary: clearly I should return these things, but is this the name of the sender or the recipient? If it's the recipient and I call, I will ruin the surprise. Once I decide the name and address most likely belong to the gift giver I attempt to make the call, but then I'm not sure I can make out the phone number.

Interpretation: I'm repulsed and attracted by something that I don't want to look at—but once I do I don't want to let it go. The dream is full of conflict. The object is a bird, an ancient symbol of spirit, yet it is also a purse, something that stores earthly treasure. The treasure it contains is associated with both the mother—it's her silver pattern—and the child (the child-sized utensils). Even the turquoise (blue-green) card points in two ways: blue for sadness, green for new growth. The dream is telling me that I'll achieve some new growth once I face my sadness. The mother / child symbols point to this sadness being connected to my inner child trying to come to terms with the loss of her mother. Having seen inside the bag (gained some knowledge of my inner workings through carefully observing my dreams) I very much want to hold on to what I've learned, and yet I feel anxious about my ability to do so (I can't make the call).

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Entangled in a Mask

The Dream: Clark and I are surprised to find an extra, unattractive room, and we don't think we have a use for it except perhaps for storage. Then I notice it's full of my old clothes. I pull out several items, excited to have found these old things: it's a sort of rediscovery. I am about to discard many of these items when I come across a skirt that attracts me: it's dated, with a fitted waist, a full skirt, and a ruffled edge. Nevertheless there is something appealing about it. It doesn't hang well, and I discover that's because it's entangled with a mask.

A newly discovered room (part of my psyche) is not so attractive at present, especially to my integrated self (anima: dream ego; and animus: Clark). It seems to us the room is useless except for storage. Yet when I start to discard my old clothes (outdated concepts) I discover there's something appealing about them. What are these old ideas? Perhaps they, like the ruffled skirt, are part and parcel of outdated ideas of femininity. They no longer hang well, and the reason they don't is because they've become entangled in a mask; in other words, they are not true, but part of a socially imposed persona.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

House for Sale

The Dream:
We go through a house that's for sale finding rooms with striking, very bold wall papers: large scale, abstract, very colorful florals. The papers overwhelm the rooms; but there's something so beautiful about them that I think I would try to work with them if I bought the place.

Interpretation: The house for sale implies a change. I am trying to deal with something overwhelming that's both beautiful and problematical. If I buy the place (accept the challenge) it will mean I can't settle for the easy, quiet, comfortable route.