The Messenger

One reason it's a good idea to illustrate your dreams is that the illustration itself will elaborate on your unconscious process. Don't think about the illustration too much as you do it; follow the dictates of your unconscious. Once you've created your illustration--a doodle, a mandala, a collage, whatever you feel like--look at the shapes and colors for more information. 

The Dream: I am in a Victorian house, standing in its large, high-ceiling entry. The bell rings, and through the door's frosted glass I see a messenger holding a fat manila envelope. I open the door to take it. I think he's going to leave, but instead he pounds on the door, cracking it, and then extends one hand through the hole he's made. At first I think he's about to give me “the finger.” Instead, he grabs me, forcing himself in. As he attacks me I scream for Clark. I know he's not in the house, but I'm hoping that if the intruder thinks he is he will be frightened off. I awaken in terror.

Interpretation: This dreadful dream ushered in my birthday. I'm being giving a message in a very forceful way. Will I get it? The frosted glass hints at my lack of clarity. The “finger” reminded me of these lines from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

My conscious awareness, here represented by Clark, is not at home. The dream is pointing to something deeply unsettling that's important for me to grasp. The timing, on my birthday eve, tells me this issue is a matter of “life or death”-- metaphorically—for me: I must come to terms with my mortality. The colors I unconsciously chose to illustrate the dream tell me where I am in my acceptance of my inevitable death. I'm in a gray and black space (not happy with the idea), but the messenger and his space are green, the color of growth. At some point I'll be able to accept my part in the cycle of life.

Boiling Over and Leaking Out

The Dream: I'm in a rectangular studio apartment with two girls. One is my daughter; the other, an odd girl with short dark hair, is her roommate. This girl has an off-putting face and expression; something about her “doesn't get it.” She puts my glass electric kettle onto a gas burner and turns on the flame. Clark notices and rescues the pot before it's ruined. We look again and see that she's done it again. Again Clark rescues it; this time we manage to get through to her, and she finds a traditional kettle.

A ceiling leak has created a puddle on the floor. The odd girl says, “We've told Uncle Nick, but he hasn’t done a thing about it.”

I'm annoyed at her over the kettle, and this idiotic remark ratchets up my ire. I am particularly annoyed at this odd girl's assuming the level of familiarity implied by her calling my brother “uncle.” “Why would you expect Uncle Nick to do anything about it? He lives 3,000 miles away. Have you told Clark?” Then I wonder why he should fix it. “Or the landlord?” Now I feel I have the right answer, so I say it again. “Have you told the landlord?” I feel sure he wouldn't want his building ruined by a leak. The girls assure me that they have informed the landlord.

Interpretation: This odd girl is my shadow. Her closeness to me is clear: she is the roommate of my inner child (my daughter) and feels a connection—as much as I want to deny it--to my brother. While she represents a part of myself that I thoroughly dislike--the oblivious part that wants to do what she wants to do, ignoring the consequences—getting to know her through this dream is helpful. Her insistence on boiling some water tells me I need to find a safe way to let off some steam. While I don't like the demands she makes on others to fix her problems, in the dream I catch myself doing the same when I expect Clark to fix the ceiling leak.

These girls are immature parts of me. The boiling water and leaking roof refer to emotions. After a number of false starts it seems I've finally found the appropriate place to express them. It takes a while to find the right vessel for the water, the place where it can safely boil, but the odd girl ultimately uses the right kettle. The ceiling leak is more problematical. It is not fixed during the course of the dream but, on the bright side, the landlord (consciousness) has been given the heads up.

Guest Dreamer: Sticky Ball Returns

Each of us has our own set of personal symbols, and the work of understanding your dreams lies in  carefully excavating them.

The Dream: I am walking up narrow wooden steps in a house. Low ceilings, pitch black except for small amount of light illuminating from either a flashlight I have in my hand or perhaps someone walking behind me with some light. It feels like one of those old homes you might find back east - narrow, dark stairs, tiny rooms. Then I'm in a bed. My right hand is in front of me and a rubber-like sphere is attached to my hand like it's sticky and stuck on me. It is still dark except for some reflected light on the ball (coming from a waning moon outside I think) so it looks navy bluish and the size of a baseball. I keep trying to disengage the ball from my hand by pushing it away but the harder I push the faster it comes back and sticks to my hand (as if attached by an invisible string). I am getting annoyed and frustrated.

Carla's thoughts: I don't know Maria, or anything about her life: I hope she will work through her dream, looking at its symbols in terms of what's going on in waking life. To get her started, and to suggest a way of going about the process, I'll write about her dream as if it were my own. Dreams have many possible meanings, so whatever someone else says about your dream is only accurate if it rings true for you.

For me, the narrow wooden steps stand for something in my life that is unbending, perhaps lacking feeling (wooden); something that constricts or limits me (narrow); and something that will take some effort to surmount (like a flight of steps). The low ceiling, the darkness, and the tiny rooms reinforce the idea that something is oppressing me. A home, being the place where I live, stands for me, and the characteristics of my dream home tell me that I'm not in a good place at the moment. The light is an encouraging symbol, however, telling me that I am capable of shining some light on what's bothering me and that the answer might come to me quickly, intuitively, in a flash.That the light might be held by someone else, walking behind me,  hints that there may be a helpful person I've overlooked.

The bed, being a place where intimacy occurs, symbolizes something that I'm very close to, for example, a relationship or my work. I'm in a sticky situation that's making me blue (sad), like the sticky ball in my hand. The moon is waning; romance (or the excitement of the job) has diminished, but isn't completely gone. My situation has strings attached; these might be the source of my frustration. My dream is telling me to shine some light (rationally evaluate) what's going on and then figure out what to do about the sticky situation.

A Place of Enchantment

From time to time a dream gives a glimpse of a unified and happy psyche.

The Dream: I am in a city apartment building with a friend or colleague and knock on a door. When a young woman answers I describe myself as a home health worker, although even as I say it I'm not sure that's quite accurate. It's my job to check on the welfare of children and families.

The woman is young and lives in an apartment with one large, high ceilinged room; there is a separate kitchen with an eat-in area off to the left. She lives with a man and their two daughters. What has me impressed, and even excited, is the way so many aspects of life have been integrated into this one space. The place is beautifully furnished,with a dark wood hutch to the left. There's a large bed in the middle of the room, and the clutter of children's toys and activities all around. The woman is bathing one of her daughters in a portable tub on top of the bed. The combination of the elegant furnishings and the joyous activity strikes me as wonderful. No conflict here between tidiness and the necessary business of life. The mother is completely comfortable with the low level of chaos, and it doesn't feel chaotic here,but rather serene and lovely.

Later I am invited to the wedding of the woman and the man. I go into the kitchen / eating nook. There is a window over the table and the spot looks bright and airy. “Look,” I say to my companion, “there's only one window, yet the entire place seems so bright and cheerful.”

Interpretation: The home health worker represents the part of me tasked with assessing inner harmony. She checks on the welfare of the various components of my psyche, symbolized by the children and families. In this unusual dream, it seems I've taken a step toward a synthesis of the sometimes discordant players in my inner world. The elegant and refined environment of the home, a symbol of this inner world, feels spacious and is full of beautiful and chaotic life. All are respected and cared for in a loving manner. Some sort of inner integration has taken place, and this is emphasized by the marriage of the man and the woman. Opposite tendencies have been resolved; the lion can lie down with the lamb. Serenity reigns, and illumination prevails. A mysterious light comes from within. Nice. Of course, it won't last . . . .

Do I Need Another Dimension?

The Dream: I’m invited to create art work for a Renaissance church. A fellow artist is Raphael-lo. I am honored that I have been asked to do this, but anxious because the job is a huge undertaking. It involves decorating an entire wall and ceiling up to the peak formed by a vaulted arch.

I’m in a state; I usually work small and this job is too much for me. On the other hand, I don’t want to say no. I go to look at the space and discover that it isn’t covered with painting, but with sculpture on little platforms jutting out. Some of the sculptures are of animals; one is a pig’s head. I feel I can use this as my excuse not to take on the commission, explaining to my prospective clients that I don’t work in three dimensions. They accept this excuse in good faith, and I am relieved.

Interpretation: My unconscious is suggesting that I consider pushing myself to a new dimension (work in sculpture, 3-D, instead of painting, 2-D). The primitive or instinctive (the animal sculpture) needs to be integrated into my higher consciousness (the church).  I am ambivalent, not wanting to do this, and not wanting to say no. I wriggle out of it. The unconscious, in accepting my excuse, lets me off the hook—at least for the time being.

Living at the Ritz

The Dream: Clark has bought a ski condo at the Ritz building in Manhattan. It is on Central Park South, facing the Park. Our condo is on a top floor and can be accessed only by going up ladders and through openings which look like holes in the ceiling. I find this method of access scary and cumbersome. Once I get up there, I wonder, how frightening will it be to come down?

When we finally get to our condo it’s very large, but dirty—stuffed with old furniture from previous occupants. It’s in need of a paint job, cleaning, clearing out. I’m not sure how this can be done, since there is no elevator and only a small entrance.

I’m in the lobby of the very fancy building, with uniformed doormen scurrying about. At first I feel quite classy for being a resident of such a place, but when I go outside to look at the building I see a marked change between the lower floors and the floor our condo is on. Our floor looks shabby, and it occurs to me that it must have been the servants’ quarters, which explains why it must be accessed with ladders.

I discover, however, that I can take the main staircase up to all but the very top floor. To get to the top I must still use a ladder, made of rope and hanging from the attic. I discover some workmen in the hall who are dealing with the mess upstairs, or attempting to.

Clark is quite pleased with the purchase of this condo, which he made without consulting me. He was uncharacteristically quick to buy it. When I reenter the condo, armed with my insight that it must originally have been the servants' area, I notice that, nevertheless, the ceilings are very high.

Interpretation: In my previous dream I faced my desire for wealth and fame; this dream takes the process forward. The part of me that deals with the world, what Jung calls my animus, is represented by Clark who has bought a ski condo at the top of the Ritz in Manhattan. That’s a pretty clear image of success! But the fly in the ointment soon emerges, as I discover the practical difficulties inherent in this success: it’s difficult to attain (must climb up ropes and go through hoops (holes) to get there, and once I do it’s messy and dirty. And was attaining this sort of success even my idea? The dream hints it isn’t, since my place is crammed with things from the past, put there by others.

To top it off, this success is a sham. My marvelous condo at the top of the Ritz looks shabby when I stand back and look at it, and I discover it once housed servants. But the situation is being worked on. Once my inner workmen clear out the debris left by others and I stop running after a version of success that is not true for me I start to notice the good things about where I am. The ceilings are, after all, impressively high.

Bodice Ripper Scene 5

The plot seems to be advancing very slowly, but I know what’s going to happen. While the Estate and the people still appear to be from the 18th c, World War II has begin. A great social change is in the works. The castle walls with their crenelated surfaces are covered with missiles and rockets to be used against the Axis powers. Yet I know the Nazis will prevail and this land will be occupied by the Germans. The Lady and the Viscount will hide an Asian woman from the racist occupiers.

I see a small attic access point in the ceiling. It has a couple of pieces of cloth hanging from it. At first I think that this is where they will hide the woman but then I think No—that’s too obvious. They know every nook and cranny of this vast estate, and they will find a secure hiding place. It also occurs to me that the practiced artificiality of their lives—the fact they are hard to “read” and don’t show what’s going on with them—will make it easier for them to fool the Germans.

Interpretation and conclusion: The new psychic center, as represented by the union of Viscount and the Lady, has become strong enough to take on a new challenge. The problems of my past recede; change is at hand, and a new battle must be fought. I fortify myself with missiles and rockets against my long-standing nemesis, my inner Nazi. A foreigner (the Asian woman) represents my repressed or unexpressed parts. The united psyche works to find a safe place to hide her from the rigid, overbearing, and limiting collective consciousness, absorbed by me long ago and symbolized by the Nazis. The elaborate cover up of the 18th clothing is no longer important; it’s replaced by a couple of pieces of cloth hanging from the attic, where I at first I think the Asian woman will be given refuge. But she will not reside in my head (the attic); the new psyche will find the proper place for her.

This dream has been interpreted by the well-known dream worker Jane Teresa Anderson in Episode 44 of The Dream Show.