Guest Dreamer: No Longer Caving In

How are we affected by the images of womanhood that are prevalent at the time we approach it?

Sunee's Dream: I had a very vivid, but strange dream last night. Seems I was going to a place for information about something. There was a beautiful old gambrel-roofed (sometimes called hipped-roof) barn which was kept up so nice--with freshly stained brown cedar siding (I remember thinking it would really have looked good if it had been painted the traditional barn red color), and the house had the same color siding, too. The place was a lovely old farmstead, with large shade trees and a beautiful well-kept yard--a place where mature adults would live (no sign of kids here). It was in the middle of summertime, and the air felt cool and slightly damp, but the sun was shining. The entire place set quite close to the gravel road, which is not unusual here for old farms. I went to the door and hanging on the door was a picture of my father and me, when I was little--taken years ago, but it did not look like a familiar picture to me. A man came to the door, his name was Mr. Huntley. I asked him about the barn, commented on my attraction to it, and could I go in it. He seemed a bit reserved, but did take me in the barn. Inside, was the entrance to 3 caves. They did not look very big. Each had mud paths going down, and each looked well used. Then, darned it, I woke up!
I do not know anyone by the name Huntley, and this place is unknown to me; also, there are no caves around here! This is probably just a goofy dream, but I remember it so well, and was wondering if it might mean something.

Carla's thoughts: In case Sunee is not familiar with the techniques of dream work I'd like to reiterate what I've said before about my commenting on another person's dream. I am working with a technique called projection, and that means that I treat Sunee's dream as if it were my own. Dreams speak to us in images and symbols, and these can have very specific meanings for a dreamer—so don't believe anyone who tells you that they can tell you what your dream means. Dreams come from our lives, and each dream has a meaning specific to the life and person who created it. What others can do is to give you ideas about what the dream might possibly mean. My hope is that this will get you started on your own exploration.

So—if this were my dream, I would think it had to do with my being at a stage in my life where I am ready to understand an event in my past in a new way. I would look back to the two or three days before I had the dream to see if there were something that brought to mind a person or situation from the past. In the dream, I am looking for information. The beautiful old barn gives me some hints about the topic. A barn is a place that houses animals, so the information I'm looking for might have to do with my physical self (my animal). This is a place of productivity; all is well cared for. The atmosphere is one of fertility, and several images in the dream make me think of myself coming into the fertility announced by my first menstrual period. First there is the hipped-roof building (my hips), and then there is the freshly stained brown siding (the red-brown of first menstrual blood). This is emphasized by my thinking it would be even better if it were red (blood). That this is a place for mature adults tells me that I might be on the right track here, because as of my first period I became mature, an adult.

Something about this time was difficult for me; the road was rough (the gravel). The picture of my father and me appears at this point. Fathers in dreams can stand for the traditional values of a culture, and, when I was a girl, periods were highly embarrassing things. I felt self-conscious about this natural and healthy occurrence, and this added to my adolescent angst. Mr Huntley appears just at this time; he's the person who will help me hunt for my own truth about how I feel about my body. Many things in the dream tell me that that truth is far more positive than the negative images of my youth: the loveliness of the well-kept farm and its garden, for example.

What's stopping me? Mr Huntley's reserve is my reserve. (All characters in a dream are the dreamer.) The caves are the entrance to my unconscious, and that's where the true information resides. But it's a slippery (muddy) slope getting down there, and there might be something that is muddying the issue. Nevertheless, I think the dream is telling me to go with my own feelings; I don't have to cave in to the opinions of others.

There is No Safe Way

The Dream: Clark and I go into a Safeway grocery store. Clark decides he will shoplift the day’s groceries. I’m very uncomfortable with this idea, but he’s determined. The next thing I know he’s disappeared, and I’m afraid he’s done the deed. I don’t see how he can possibly get away with it: there are security cameras everywhere.

The next time I see Clark he is in the hallway near the employee lounge area, using push pins to post clues about how he managed to shoplift right under the store’s surveillance cameras. He’s feeling very smug and clever but I explain that his prints will be all over the push-pins, and he’ll be caught. He finally agrees and removes the clues.

We leave the store and go to the parking lot. I drive. Police question us, and I explain that Clark is the most honest person I’ve ever met. They don’t pursue their inquiries, and I drive off after having a little difficulty starting the car. As I drive down a hill I notice flooding near the bottom, getting progressively deeper. Clark criticizes my driving, and I turn the car around and head for higher ground. There’s a round-about at the top of the hill, put in place to make the turn easier for boats.  A boat on a trailer goes down the hill as we go up.

In the next scene we are in a cave. The earthen walls are rich red sienna, and so is the calf-deep mud we are wading in. This is unpleasant, but soon gets much worse as I fall into a hole I hadn’t seen under the mud. Submerged up to my chin, I holler for Clark; I expect him to rescue me. He ignores me. I have an expensive camera with me, and I’m sure it’s been ruined. I extricate myself, unaided, from the hole, and my new concern is for the camera. I hear a story about a man whose camera suffered similar abuse: he gave it away, thinking it was broken. The new recipients were two young boys and, to my surprise, they were able to make good use of it.

Interpretation: In this dream my psyche is looking for safety (the Safeway) and is reduced to stealing to get it, clearly not feeling entitled to have what it so desperately wants (food, sustenance). And what is it facing that has caused such alarm? The recent death of two close friends has forced me to face my fears about my own death. I realize I can’t get away with cheating death, as I explain to Clark (my other half) who thinks he can. (He is  planning to steal food, that is, life).

The flooding is unconscious material forcing itself upon me. I head for high ground, trying to get away, but the dream tells me I’m going in circles (the round-about). I escape the flood, only to be submerged in mud: the red clay symbolizes my mortal flesh, my earthly existence. I call for help from my animus, the part of me that deals with life in a rational, practical way—this part can’t help here. The camera represents my eye (I); that it’s expensive says I value the self I have created, and I fear its ruin (death). The camera records my experience and might be a way of leaving, or bequeathing, something of myself. In the dream the camera evolves from something that watches and judges (the store’s surveillance camera) to something valuable to me that will inevitably be ruined (my camera in the muddy cavern) until it is given to two young boys who make good use of it. The dream tells me that the job of my life at this point is to prepare a gift for others and to believe they will find it useful, whatever my doubts.

Circle of Life: Not as Scary as It Looks

The Dream: I’m in a large structure, part cave and part man made. My friend Polly and two others are with me. Polly and I talk about taking a pattern-making or draping class just for fun and to refresh our memories (we were once clothes designers). I have some sort of hooked implement with me. We go up and up, into this structure. It’s not too difficult a climb; it’s like a Disney version of a cave. I decide to show the others how to use the hook, throwing it into a cave wall with the idea that I’ll hoist myself up. As I put my weight on it the hook breaks and I fall into a very steep-sided crevasse. I realize as I fall and fall—while my friends watch in mute horror—that there is no way I can climb out of this deep pit.

After my terrifying descent I finally hit bottom. After a little exploration I realize the spot I’m in is not far from our entry point—the place where we started our ascent. I find a door out from the dark and scary pit into the brightly lighted stairs, now looking like a lobby, that lead to the cave ascent. I know I can quickly rejoin my friends, and I feel greatly relieved.

Interpretation: The action in this dream forms a kind of circle: in some way it reminds me of life, death, and rebirth. I climb with my friends; we are involved in work-related activity (pattern making) and enjoy the gentle challenge of the climb. The cave reminds me of early peoples in the Dordogne who created art and practiced religion within similar walls. When I use my “hook” to try to attach myself to this earthly (and what’s more earthly than a cave?) life, I get a terrifying shock. My connection to the earth fails, and I fall into the depths, seemingly gone forever. As the early cave people lived their lives and passed on, I must be prepared to do the same. The reference to Disney tells me that although we would like to sanitize the difficult realities of life on the planet,  the superficiality of commercialism and consumerism don’t actually change our core experiences. At the same time, I am given the insight that what looked like the end is a new beginning.

Time for My Own Vision

The Dream: I am subletting an artist friend’s apartment. The main room is square, and I’m very busy preparing food for a large group. A lot of clean-up work is generated. Some guests offer to help but I tell them not to; they have to go to work tomorrow and will need to get up early, whereas I can sleep late. Nevertheless I’m not happy being stuck with all this clean-up by myself.

A very large computer with many components is in the middle of the kitchen. It has a giant screen, of amazing clarity, on a moveable arm. I imagine watching movies on it. But the system is too big, and when we move it out of the kitchen the room is much nicer.

In the course of our rearrangement I discover an image that takes up most of one wall. It’s made of red clay, like the walls of a cave. In its center is a thick, waterfall-like seepage.  To the right is a recessed area: at first I think I’m seeing into outer space, as if the recess is a window into the universe. Later I’m not sure: it’s ambiguous. Am I looking at something near or far?

Interpretation: This dream further develops the theme of Relieved of Duty. In that dream I was determined to do a boring and impossible task, and in this dream I jump in to be helpful at a boring task and then feel taken advantage of. The computer (the rational mind) in the middle of the kitchen (a place where transformation takes place) needs to be moved before a more personal, deeper (cave-like) image can be revealed. While the rational mind shows us a very clear picture (its screen has amazing clarity), it’s also impersonal and external, like a movie I’m watching. The more personal image is only revealed once we get this contraption out of the way. The ambiguity of seeing something near and far at the same time tells me that what is “out there” is at the same time “in here.”

A Metaphorical Meaning of Christmas

For today’s post I thought it would be interesting to use the methods we’ve been using to look at personal dreams on a dream that belongs to our culture: Christmas. This day has been observed as a Christian holiday for over 2000 years. Christianity paired its celebrations with those of older religions, so the birth of the Christian deity was celebrated on the night of the Solstice. Symbolically this dark time of year creates the dark cave of the unenlightened soul, a cave which may be seen behind the Virgin Mary in Orthodox Christian nativity icons. The virgin birth symbolizes the soul’s rescue from this unenlightened dwelling: the spirit is born and becomes incarnate in our previously animal nature. In other words, the birth of the deity to a human mother reenacts the historical moment in our evolution—and the actual moment in each and every life--when we become capable of consciousness.

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.

A Plane in a Cave

The Freudians would have a field day with this imagery, but the more I thought about it the more it seemed to me that the dream was about the immortal soul. (An appropriate post for Sunday, no? Unconsciously selected, of course.)

The Dream: I am in a very large cave, made of a reddish stone. It reminds me of the caves in the Dordogne. I see people looking expectant, as if an event is about to take place.  To my surprise I spot an airplane perched among the cave’s rocky outcrops, very neatly wedged into a series of rocks near the top. Did it crash there, I wonder? Yet it looks unscathed. The airplane’s crew are getting ready to do something, we know not what. A little house is set into the rock next to the plane. Some crew members will sleep in the plane, others in the house; they seem to be sorting out the arrangements. I see welcoming lights shining from the windows of the house set in stone, and I am interested to see that it’s used. I had often wondered about its purpose. I spend most of the time in the dream wondering how the plane got in, and how it can possibly get out.

Interpretation: The cave is associated with the Lascaux caves of the Dordogne, a famous repository of Paleolithic art. This tie-in to ancient man implies the dream harkens back to my earliest experience of consciousness. How early? The reddish color of the cave suggests the womb. The “expectant” people include my mother, who awaits my birth. Airplanes are symbolic of our aspirations, and this airplane is my immortal soul. Its location, high above the cave’s floor, is another hint that the dream is dealing with the holy; gods often dwell on mountain tops. How did spirit (the plane) come to be lodged in matter (the inside of the earth, a cave)? How precarious it looks, and yet it’s neatly wedged and seems stable. Some aspects of the soul (the crew) remain in their natural setting (the plane). Others will dwell in the earthly rock house, at least until it’s time to depart. I ponder this wonder: how did the soul get here, and how will it leave?