The Bear on a Fixed Track

You can learn a lot about your dream by taking the time to look at the words, especially plays on words or double meanings. The following dream is a good example.
The Dream: I have a stuffed bear that navigates the world on a track. I'm with it in the back garden, then watch as it goes through the back door of my house, on its track, and out through the front. It's not capable of locking the doors so I do that. I watch the bear roll down the street and wonder what the neighbors think of it.

I'm planning to rendezvous with my bear at a museum I used to enjoy. To get there I have to scale down what looks like an artifact of the ancient past: a steep, carved palisade. Part of its side begins to detach as I descend. Two things worry me. I don't want to deface this ancient carving, and yet I'm afraid that if I try to fix it, to make it right, I'll lose my footing and fall into the pit.

When I get to the museum it is rundown and in disrepair. Not much is left that is interesting. I'm disappointed; this place is not what it was. There's one bright spot: I recognize a stained glass window that I still like.

Interpretation: To start, let's take a look at the word “bear.” Am I as grumpy as a bear? Is there something I can't bear? Am I feeling discouraged, in the dumps (bearish)? Am I closed-minded, fixed and unswerving in my fixed track? One thing seems obvious, the state of mind this dream is dealing with is rooted in the past. You'll notice the references to the back garden, the back door, the palisade that's an artifact of the past, and the museum, a place that houses old things. And since my bear is stuffed, I'm guessing that what's got me down and grouchy is some stuff from way back.

The dream gives me an opportunity to work through some unresolved past issues. The meeting with my bear takes me to a place where I can look at my old stuff (in the museum) and realize it's not interesting anymore. My fears are unnecessary: I don't lose my footing or fall into the pit along the way. If the carved sides along my descent are disintegrating, I accept that I can't fix them. And there is even a bright spot: I find something to love and cherish, a stained glass window. It lets in a transformed and colorful light.

Guest Dreamer: My Dazzle is in a Hole

Angelina has sent us a dream about her dog Dazzle, who came to her through the Golden Retriever Rescue Association about 8 months ago.

The Dream: Last week I dreamed that Dazzle was in the house and let me know that she wanted to go outside as she usually does.  I let her out through the sliding door to the back yard which, oddly enough, looked very different.  There was a huge hole about fifty feet in circumference and about five feet deep.  Dazzle was in the hole when I went outside, and it was unclear to me if she had been hurt or was just resting.  Her eyes were closed; she was reclining and didn’t pay any attention to me.  I was frightened and just wanted to get her out of the hole.  I was afraid to go into the hole since I didn't feel I would be able to get out on my own or to save her.  I thought of putting something into the hole to grab her but nothing was available to me that I could see working.  When I woke up I was so relieved to know that it was all just a dream.

Carla's interpretation: In my version of Angelina’s dream the first thing I’ll take a look at is what my dog represents. What traits does my dog embody? She’s joyful, loving, full of life, dependent. She’s an animal, so she operates at an unconscious, instinctive level. She lives in the present, with no concept of past or future. In my dream, she is the part of me that shares these traits.

Where does the action take place? Jungians see the front garden as representing the persona, or the part we show publicly, and the backyard as the place where the soul lives. My joyful spontaneous part has fallen into a hole; my innermost being needs nurturing. Dazzle initially came to me because I rescued her, and I want to rescue her now but find I can’t. My dream is telling me to let go of rescuing others for a while and to focus instead on taking care of myself.

Why do I think so? In the dream Dazzle is paying no attention to me (she doesn’t want my help). I don’t think I can get out of the hole on my own (I need some help). My fear is making it difficult for me to solve the problem, and I don’t have any practical solutions (nothing is available to me). If I can let sleeping dogs lie (not try to fix everything) I think the hole will become whole, and my Dazzle (sparkle) will wake up, get out of the hole, and shine forth as usual.