Two Different Sides

The Dream: One boob is cute and perky; the other larger, saggy and floppy.

Interpretation: This reflects the two sides of my artistic life (the thing that nurtures me). One side is controlled and attractive; the other is not so acceptable and well-behaved. Yet the two are part of the same body (of work). This image represents a conjunctio or coming together, in the psyche, of two opposing inner forces.

Della's Dress

The Dream: I see an old dress belonging to my friend Della. It's gray, with bat wing sleeves and a pencil thin slim skirt. The only decoration is across the shoulders and front. The material is a heavy weight, good quality silk. It's a beautiful dress, but dated; it has a built-in bra that gives it a stiff shape in the breast area.

Interpretation: Here's something I find beautiful that's no longer relevant (in style), just like the traditional femininity of my youth. The dress' stiffness in the breast area suggests that the downside of this traditional way of being was its rigidity: its insistence on proper form was somewhat hard hearted. This way of being no longer works; women, and society, are more flexible now.

Diminution of the Mother

I had this dream after my older child moved to her own apartment.
The Dream: My mother is getting breast augmentation surgery. My son and I clutch hands for comfort in our anxiety over mother's operation. I begin to wonder if he is too old (he's about 9) to hold hands with his mother, and I wonder if he will pull away in embarrassment.

Next we are inside the medical facility where we see mother's picture on a video screen. She has turned into a baby and is dressed in a very feminine outfit with a bonnet. Her face, however, is still mother's. She looks cranky. “I don't think mother is going to like this,” I say.

Interpretation: As much as we are happy to see our children achieve and go out on their own, it represents a loss. As I lose the mother role to my child's independence, my mother (me as a mother) wants to have her mother role (breasts) enlarged. I ponder accepting the child's need for independence as I wonder if my dream son will be embarrassed to be holding hands with his mother. By the end of the dream, mother has been reduced to a cranky baby. I apparently haven't accepted my child's new life with good grace quite yet.

So Ugly She’s Cute

The Dream: My college friend Mary has a baby who’s so ugly that she’s cute. She is brown with straight golden-brown hair cut in long bangs, and she wears glasses. The baby is very young, only a few months old. She nurses with delight at Mary’s large breast. It soon becomes clear that the baby is very precocious. She can sit and talk; we can tell she is extremely intelligent. Mary is thrilled with her baby.

Interpretation: I think the newly arrived brown babies (this is the second one recently) are linked to a more authentic artistic self emerging as I work on my illustrated dream journals. Not all will find these drawings “beautiful,” yet I find them immensely appealing: so ugly they are beautiful. In waking life Mary is someone who has expressed her own artistic proclivities through others: she married a writer and has many friends in the arts. In the dream the Mary part of me—not quite brave enough to be an artist—has given birth to someone who might manage it. Mary nourishes the baby and is thrilled with her arrival: both good signs.

Guest Dreamer: My New Life

Today’s guest dream leads the dreamer toward a glowing transformation. 

The Dream: I dreamed I was present at the birth of another woman's baby.  It was very large for a newborn, plump and mature looking.  The baby was big enough to weigh about 20 pounds but it was not at all heavy to hold. I held the baby close to my breast immediately; it wanted to nurse but of course I couldn't comply.  I covered both of us up with a sheer yellow fabric.  The baby sat quietly in my lap and we both looked toward the light that surrounded us. It didn't matter that we could not see beyond the fabric. Inside our glowing yellow light-weight tent, we were safe and warm without distractions.  We were both pacified.  

Carla’s interpretation: In my version of your dream, I am experiencing the emergence of a new sense of who I am and what I do. That I refer to the baby as an “it” rather than a “her” or “him” tells me that the baby represents an abstract quality: some important aspect of myself is being born. This new me is not yet integrated into the self I know, so I see the person who is giving birth as another woman. My creativity is channeled through this newly emerging self (the woman's new baby). The baby looks good to me (good-sized, plump, and mature looking) and I want to nourish it. Although I take it to heart (my breast), I am not quite ready to feed this new self. I need to acknowledge that its mother and I are one and the same. I find a safe and beautiful place, the color of life and enlightenment (yellow, sunlight) for me and the new baby to be together while I wait until I can recognize that what seems like someone else (the mother of my most precious creative force) is me.

Baring the Breast

Have you ever had a dream that seems to resolve a previous dream? Jung tells us that this is to be expected, and that it is part of our natural psychic regulation. This is similar to the way natural physical adjustments take place, for example, sweating to cool the body when you get too warm. In my chat with Jane Teresa Anderson (Episode 44 of The Dream Show) she pointed out that the title of the dream The Bodice Ripper could refer to an opening (exposure) of the heart. I had this dream the night after our chat.

The Dream: I am sitting at a table of arty and intellectual architects. After a while I realize I have no clothes on above the waist. One of the men comes and sits next to me, kissing me on the cheek and saying, “I’ve missed you.” I notice the softness of his youthful face, although his hair is thinning and he must be in his 40s. I say, “I’ve missed you, too.” His name is at the edge of my awareness but I don’t quite get it. We’re happy to be together but can’t think of anything to say.  I notice my bare breasts and think I should cover up, but do nothing about it.

Interpretation: The bodice is off; my heart has opened. The rapprochement is not only with the part of me that can deal with the outer world (my animus) but also with my first image of a man, my father. The exchange about missing each other refers to my grief over his death. That I am sitting with a table of architects tells me that something new is being built.