Moving is a Lot of Work!

The Dream: We've moved to a new house: it's an old new house and needs a lot of work. It was expensive, but I'm afraid it doesn't look it. My cousin is coming to visit, and I wonder how she will react. I'm concerned that she won't realize how much the house cost. I also think about my old town, that it was dull and that this is a better place. I wonder if my cousin will prefer our other house, the one we left behind. And where will I put her? The family reminds me we have moved the guest room furniture into a new guest room, and it is ready for her visit.

The rest of the place is a mess. The previous owners didn't clear out their things. The family room is full of pictures and articles pasted on the wall in a haphazard way. There's a raised work stand for chopping and cutting that should be part of the kitchen but instead is apart, on its own, in a corner.

The back garden is organized into areas but also needs attention. One section is a raised cement herb garden. As I look at what's left of the plants a small animal appears at my feet: a reptile with a long tail, plump in the middle. At first I think it's cute and point it out to Clark. It has curled, like a possum, into a pretty colored ball. It's joined by others, and six or seven or so run about our feet. They now appear to be furry and somewhat rodent like. They've started to annoy me, and I do my best to shoo them away.

Going through the garden we come to other undiscovered parts of the house. I think one area will be a good place for my studio, but then find another spot that will be even better. It's a long, large room, looking like a basement with a cement floor and cinder block walls. Like the rest of the house, this area is full of debris and will need to be sorted out. There's a large refrigerator, in good repair and not looking too old. I confer with Clark as to whether it could be useful. A woman tells us the food inside is good; we should try it. There are some health food-type drinks, white like milk, that she particularly recommends. She seems concerned that we might chuck out everything in there, and it's likely we would.

As I think about the studio, I see that preparing this place will be a lot of work: first I'll have to clear out someone else's debris. But I am excited about having this expansive studio with high ceilings and fluorescent well as incandescent light. I say to Clark, “Now I'll be able to work on large pieces.

Interpretation: The new house is a mess, but also full of interesting possibilities. The first thing that needs to be sorted is the family room, and the clue as to what about family I need to sort is given by my reaction to my cousin's visit. I am very concerned that she will be critical, that she won't like where I am, that I'm not ready for her, and that she won't appreciate how much I've “paid” for the place where I live, in other words, that she won't appreciate the value of my life choices. The dream tells me that I am ready to accept this, my inner critic, even if I don't feel ready. I have prepared a room for her.

The herbs and odd animals in the garden and the food in the refrigerator all point to new, if uncomfortable, possibilities. The scurrying animals represent challenges that go way back-- to the lizard and rat parts of my brain, the parts that respond instinctively and without reflection or awareness. Here dwell the beautiful and the ugly, the appealing and the off-putting, all at the same time. The new studio, with its two sources of light and it's deep (basement) location, offers me a space where I can work on these “large” issues. Perhaps my cement, the things that have been written in stone in my psyche, is being transformed into something more enlightened—if I can avoid being overwhelmed by all the work that needs to be done.

Studio for Sale

The Dream: An artist friend is selling her two-story studio. The unfinished downstairs smells musty, like a basement. Black construction paper lines some of the walls. The person moving in will use the larger of the two upstairs rooms for her painting. The smaller room, to the right as I look at them, will be for storage.

Interpretation: The downstairs, evocative of a basement with its musty smell, tells me that I’m dealing with an issue that has basic, or primitive, overtones. The black paper evokes a dark cave, perhaps one with writing on its walls (paper is something we write on). That it’s construction paper hints something was built on this obscure foundation. This train of thought leads me to the Lascaux cave paintings. Here these French caves symbolize our species’ early commitment to art, and the dream deals with some sort of unconscious change in my relationship to the art I make.

The dream emphasizes duality: the studio has two stories; the upstairs has two rooms. One part of me is getting rid of her studio; another part who’s moving in seems to be elevating the work, taking it to a higher level (on the second floor) where she will paint in the larger room and store things in the smaller one. I hope the transformed artist will be nourished by the primitive energy from downstairs, and that she can synthesize that energy with the higher consciousness upstairs.

You Don’t Know Me

Look at the people who populate your dreams and see how they fit into your inner landscape.

The Dream: A friend of my older brother is visiting. She has blond curly hair and is slightly heavy-set with a round face. I like her and feel that she has become my friend as well.

My friend Patsy appears, coming up from the basement. She is pleased with herself for pulling off this surprise visit; her face is very expressive. “Patsy!” I exclaim, “What are you doing here?” She teases me about that ungracious welcome. Of course I am thrilled to see her and realize that I have been wondering how she is. She indicates that she simply decided to make the trip at the last minute. “I can go to the dentist here,” she says. I look forward to a few days of visiting and entertainment and am glad to notice that my compulsion to work, and my usual annoyance or resentment at being interrupted, are nowhere in evidence.

My brother’s friend is leaving, and I want to hug her. I say, “It’s been wonderful getting to know you better.” She says, enigmatically, “You don’t know me at all.”

Interpretation:  My older brother represents my authoritarian, competent part. His friend, since it is someone I don’t know in my waking life, represents my intuitive side. Her light colored hair tells me that she is symbolic of awareness or enlightenment. Another friend appears, unexpectedly, coming up from the basement (unconscious). Her remark about the dentist hints that she is associated with pain.

All aspects of my personality--the work-oriented, the intuitive, and the spontaneous—are coming together here. Patsy hints it won’t be all fun and games—there’s that worrisome trip to the dentist: that might indicate I have to work on something associated with my mouth, like what sometimes comes out of it. Nevertheless we’re all set to party, which sounds like one of Jung’s coniunctios.  At the same time I get a warning from the Enlightened One that lets me know I have work to do before I can call her a friend. 

Guardians of the Deep

Sometimes material from the unconscious seems threatening and you might decide to try to get away from it, as I did in this dream.

The Dream: As the dream begins my husband Clark and I are sitting in lawn chairs on a cement patio next to the bay. The patio, which has the ambience of a garage, is beneath a house on slats. Suddenly a gray boat that looks like a cross between a fish and a submarine starts to tear about the bay near us, making tight circles.  I think it must be the Coast Guard. Then another vessel arrives: it looks like a large truck pulling a long trailer. Like the first one, it also tears around the bay in circles near us. This nearby activity makes me nervous, and I suggest to Clark that we move back from the edge of the bay before these water craft come crashing into us.

The Interpretation: I’m on a cement patio, dealing with a heavy issue. Since I’m close to—but not in--water, I can guess that this material is on the cusp of consciousness. The patio is where the basement would be in most houses, and even resembles one, looking like a garage. Symbolically, basements are where we store unconscious material, such as old wounds and feelings we aren’t aware of; but also a place where the life force, or libido, dwells. This unconscious material is becoming very animated and threatening to break into my conscious awareness (come on shore).

What about the strange vessels? In Jungian terms, a vessel is a place where transformation takes place. The first vessel is a cross between something very militaristic (a submarine) and a fish, a symbol of the inner treasure held in our unconscious. To me this signaled a conflict between the authoritarian “controller” part of me and the natural, less structured, unconscious part. I’m trying to resolve the conflict with the combination submarine and fish, but the emergence of the trailer truck indicates there’s too much “stuff” being pulled in my wake for this resolution to occur. So I retreat.