The Magic Bike

The Dream: I’m riding a bicycle on a busy city street. It’s not exactly under my control, and I am uneasy. I’m pedaling on the sidewalk, crowded with people. I worry about slamming into a curb when in a crosswalk, but the bike magically jumps the curb. I’m worried about hitting people, but that doesn’t happen either. Each half of the odd-looking handle bars can move independently of the other. The brakes are in the pedals, but they don’t work; when I try to use them they only spin around.

Interpretation: I’m moving under my own steam (on a bicycle), yet getting from here to there is making me anxious. I’m not in the right place: I’m on the sidewalk rather than in the street. And let’s look at the word “sidewalk:” Am I side-stepping something? When I come to a possible turning point (the crosswalk) I worry about meeting an obstacle (slamming into a curb). As I surmount this difficulty (the bike magically jumps the curb), I have a new worry: I might hurt someone (hit people). I successfully navigate that obstacle, when I’m faced with two new problems. First, my handle bars move independently of each other; this unusual steering device tells me that I’m trying to go in two directions at once. And second, I’d better slow down, because my brakes don’t work.

Blue Rider

One character we often see in myths is the helpful guide, whose job it is to point the hero in the right direction. Our dreams can also provide guides to help us through the journey of life.

The Dream: An artist is displaying his work. I look at the piece intently, admiring his skill. I notice his work is effective because he has a light background and a dark foreground which creates enough contrast to make the picture “read” from a distance. As I admire his work he talks about it, emphasizing the importance of contrast. He tells me how he backs up to look at the piece in order to gauge the impact of what he’s doing.

He invites me to go “horse riding” with him. The way he expresses it is a little odd: he doesn’t say “horse-back” riding. I say that I would love to, but the last time I was on a horse I realized it had no brakes. He thinks I felt insecure because of the sort of saddle I had used, and he describes a new one which would hold me firmly on the horse. Then I begin to wonder if this would be a date, and if Clark would object. I think of skiing, where I am frightened of losing control and careening off into danger.

Interpretation: My guide invites me to look at life in its totality, to accept the dark and the light, the contrast which makes the entire “picture” resonate. I back off from this advice. He invites me again to do the daring thing: to take the horse and ride it. I recognize my fear of losing control.