Boxed In

This dream begins a series dealing with the deaths of loved ones over the years.

The Dream: I am trying to move, packing my things into a car. Stephen (a friend from long ago, now dead) is helping. There are things I can't solve that he easily overcomes. For example, to load the backseat he removes a sliding door, effortlessly. I hadn't realized that was possible. I'm in the backseat as he does this and get “boxed” in. I wonder how I'll get out so that I can join him in the front seat, but then it occurs to me that I can climb over the seat back. This realization gives me a free and happy feeling.

Interpretation: Stephen, my first close friend to die, has come to help me move (move on). In other words, he helps me begin to accept our limited time on earth and gives me a sense of the possibility of an afterlife. Because he has passed through death he understands things that I don't. He knows how to work the sliding door, the moveable separation between this life and the next. I am almost boxed in by my limited view, but just in time get enough insight to climb out of my difficulty.

Open Your Eyes

The Dream: I am in a truck. We are parked near the entrance to a gas station. A man in a red convertible pulls up, trying to enter, but we are blocking his way. As the backseat passenger I say, “Sorry, we can't move.” The driver is doing something outside at the pump. Then I realize I'm in the driver's seat, but I can't open my eyes. The vehicle begins to inch forward, and I'm panicking because I can't open my eyes or control the truck. I plead with Clark, sitting next to me, to help. He doesn't respond. I take my hands and pry open my eyes, with difficulty. I awaken.

Interpretation: The panicked pleading of this dream reminded me of a church service I attended  recently. I was struck by what seemed to me a kind of unctuous begging for some sort of help, for salvation, from the deity. It seemed that the idea behind the service was that if you asked enough times, desperately enough, maybe god would respond. In other words, I'm getting a lot of gas, hot air. So it's probably time for me to convert, to change from a backseat passenger to a driver. The dream tells me to open my eyes and take charge of where I'm going. It's time to find my own answers to the age old questions.

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.

Interpretation: 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.

The Scowler

The Dream: I'm in the backseat of a car. There's a very cute little boy sitting there as well. His mother doesn't have a child's safety seat for him so I wonder if I should hold him. There's also a little girl I hadn't noticed who, as I'm thinking about the boy, says, “Everyone thinks he's cute.” She protectively hands the boy forward to his mother.

Now that I've noticed the girl I take a better look at her. She's very unattractive: overweight, very white skin, hair pulled back tightly from a scowling face. She has short little bangs and is wearing a little princess tiara on her head. I suddenly realize that this unappealing little girl needs some attention. I ask to see her artwork. She brightens up and shows me what looks like some well done contour drawings. As I praise her she warms up and relaxes, telling me that she needs to “loosen up.” I think she's loose enough already.

Interpretation: As the dream begins it's clear I'm not in the driver's seat with whatever is going on right now. (I'm in the backseat.) One small part of me—the acceptable “cute” part—has been handed over to mother. This good child part belongs to her; in other words, he does what mother requires. Another part is not so attractive:she scowls and wants to rule (she wears a crown). But if I can recognize her for who she is and what she does (admire her work) she will be able to relax. When she says she wants to loosen up she is telling me that she wants to let go of her tendency to control things in ways that make her (me) tense. That I've recognized her in this dream enables this to happen: she's “loose enough already.”

Guest Dreamer: The Light and the Dark

This dream was donated by BostonBabe, who provides us with both a context and an interpretation for her dream. She has asked for my comments as well, so I’ll add them at the end of the post.

The Context: Nine months ago, I left my corporate job to devote time to my own creative work. Eight days ago, I held an open house in my home to show my recent work, the first public viewing of my art in five years. Two days ago, I spent the afternoon with an artist and his wife (a former colleague). I was introduced to artist friends of theirs, saw the husband’s recent work, and was given some guidance on the business of art. That night, I had some disturbing dreams.

Three Dream Fragments:

1. A piece entitled Floor Lamp, the first piece in my show--to the left as you enter the gallery--lies in disarray. It has fallen off its shelf and lies on its side on the floor, damaged. The art books that were carefully arranged in a pyramiding stack under the shelf are also in disarray scattered about the floor. Needless to say, this was upsetting.
2. Out of necessity, I have gathered up some essential belongings and am holed up in the back seat of my car, which is parked outside my house. My house is isolated on a dark, lonely street. As I look towards the end of the road (to the right as you face the house), I see the entrance to a dark woods. I am frightened.
3. This dream is the most fragmentary: A man is dying very, very slowly.  Not painfully, or sadly, but in a very slow process. 

 BostonBabe’s Interpretation: On one level, the danger captured in these fragments is from my inner critic, who goes back to my father.  I think the stubborn persistence of the inner critic in my psyche is captured in dream  Fragment 3. The destruction in dream Fragment 1 may be my inner critic's response to the "audacity" of claiming to create work that is founded on centuries of art history (represented by the piled up art books) -- the "audacity" of claiming my place as an artist. As for dream Fragment 2, I think I am concerned, not only about managing my inner critic, but also about the couple I visited right before the dreams -- can I trust them? Do they have my best interests at heart? Do I need to protect my self? Will I lose control of my life? Anxiety about becoming more visible to the "serious" art community may have influenced this fragment, as well my concern to protect my creative core.

Carla:  Since interpretations of others’ dreams—as well as of their words or deeds, for that matter—are projections, I will take BostonBabe’s dream on as my own in these comments. My take on it may or may not be true for BB.