Can I Nourish the Group?

The Dream: I am with a niece and some of her friends. They begin to talk about what a good cook my niece's mother is. “Don't they think I'm a good cook?” I wonder. I also praise my niece's mother, sincerely, for being very capable and helpful in an unassuming way. I think about my having cooked a meal for the group when we were last together, and I wonder if I made a bit of a fool of myself, offering to cook when someone else had superior skill.

Interpretation: My insecurity about what I have to offer is on display in this dream. In the dream it might have been a mistake, hubris, even to offer to cook. Not only am I concerned about how I will be judged, I'm concerned about having put myself and my inadequacies forward. It's hard to believe that at this stage of life I am still oppressed by feelings of inadequacy—but there it is. Having recognized the feelings, maybe I can start to get past them.

Alchemy

This dream is about transformation. Since we're all in the process of psychic transformation all the time, it's not surprising that it shows up regularly in our dreams.

The Dream: I am taking cooking oil to a recycle center that utilizes only food waste. To get to the center I have to walk down into a gulley, its slope covered with the kind of loose rocks used to control weeds and erosion. Once I get down, a helpful and friendly—in a professional way--man directs us to the proper drop off site. I take the oil to an underpass and see that it is recycled into beautiful carved kitchen cabinet doors. I am very impressed with this operation and plan to come again.

In another area waste is recycled into jewels. This work is so interesting to me that I would like to be a part of it. I hope to be hired. The man in charge of the jewels is leaving; as they look for a replacement for him I hope I will be considered for the post, but I think that is unlikely since I have no experience. However, his assistant is promoted and I am taken on to learn the craft.

Interpretation: In mythology oil is a gift fit for the gods. The used, depleted oils in this dream (my feelings about my own potential) are transformed into ornamental cabinet doors. These in turn protect the treasures of the kitchen (an area where ingredients are transformed into something that sustains us). There's something circular here: the oil goes from kitchen waste to a beautiful and useful part of the kitchen. But to turn this particular dross into gold I must first climb down the sides of the gulley covered with loose rocks. The dream tells me that I am feeling used up, wasted—but that if I can negotiate the slippery slope, where I might literally lose my footing, I will get to a place (my center) where I might become energized for the better.

The second paragraph of the dream reiterates the same theme, this time upping the ante by changing waste into jewels.

Getting to the Warmth of the Kitchen

Dreams can resolve issues we aren't aware we have.
The Dream: I am walking along a sidewalk. I come to a barrier. On the other side is a patch of ice, running down the center of the sidewalk and tended by a boy, about 12 years old, whose dumpy middle-aged mother tells me he likes to play on it. The “tending” consists of spraying the patch with water to keep it smooth. After we chat I cross over to my side of the street. The sidewalk on my side is circumscribed by a tall wood fence around my home. A gate opens to my garden. When I open it I am surprised to discover snow piled as high as the wall.

I wonder how I will get back to my house. I think I will attempt to jump up onto the snowbank. The boy offers to help. His mother watches. He moves as if to lift me up under my arms; at the same time I seem to effortlessly rise to the top of the snow. We're all pleased, and I tell the other two that now I will roll down to the house. The kitchen looks out over this snow-laden garden. Clark is inside, cooking.

Interpretation: Something that I don't often look at (it's a side walk, in other words, something that's not part of my usual preoccupation) is a barrier to me. Some part of me is frozen, and the 12 year old in me likes it that way; this part works at maintaining the freeze and smoothing it over. The two images, of barriers and ice, recur in the form of a tall wood fence around my home (me) and snow as high as the fence.

There is a gate, however, even if it opens onto a pile of snow so high that I don't think I can get into my house. This inability to gain access to my own home symbolizes an alienation from my true self. Once I let it be known that I intend to attempt to conquer the snowbank, my inner 12 year old changes from the care taker of the ice to my willing helper. Now in sync with this inner force I effortlessly surmount the obstacle. And having come this far, I can accomplish the rest by coasting ( I roll down to the house). Once inside and in the kitchen (symbolizing a place of both warmth and transformation) Clark, my other half, is cooking—yet another symbol of transformation. I've found a place where I am nurtured and can grown (the gate that opens to my garden).

The Distracting Child

In dreams, references to lower levels or the left usually refer to unconscious elements, and the kitchen is a place where transformation takes place.  The divine child represents rebirth.

The Dream: A young child, about three, is fretful and we don’t know how to amuse her. I don’t have any toys for her. It occurs to me I could give her a very simple recipe to follow and she could make some food. This would occupy her and leave me free to concentrate on other work, such as cooking the rest of the dinner. I make a work station for her on the kitchen table—at a lower level, to my left.

Interpretation: A part of me that I wasn’t aware of is kicking up a fuss and demands my attention. The dream ego finds a useful job for her and brings her closer (integrating her) while at the same time pushing her back down into the unconscious (I put her on a lower level and to my left). That the dream ego is “cooking the rest of the dinner” implies a mixing and blending of ingredients and a magical or alchemical (as Jung might put it) transformation.