Am I Dark?

The Dream: A woman, a teacher, lives nearby. She has an Irish/German/American face, but dark coloring. She is looking into her family history and says that her ancestors come from Nom, a country she has been unable to locate on a map.

I go home and look at a map and, to my surprise and delight, very quickly discover that the province of Nom is inside Egypt. I go to her place and bang excitedly on the door. (Her house is a white stationary trailer.) She answers, and I enter the narrow building. “I've found Nom,” I say. “It's in Egypt.”

I either think or say, “That explains why you are so dark.”

Interpretation: This woman has something to teach me. Nom in French means name. This--plus the woman's mixed ancestry, her family history research, and her inability to locate her family's geographical origin--tells me that this dream is dealing with where I fit into the human family. Where do I come from? And beyond that, what does it mean to be human?

The dream tells me that the “dark” aspects I carry within (and that are clearly visible to all) are ancient (like Egypt) and very rich (like the Pharaohs). If I disavow these parts of myself I'm left with a life that is white and narrow, like the woman's trailer home. This is another way of saying that my self-understanding doesn't own up to the complexity of the human psyche and experience. At the same time, while accepting my atavistic human traits is an important step in developing the sort of human being that doesn't wallow in self-righteousness, it's not an excuse or justification for bad behavior.

A Challenging Fight

The Dream: I'm a man on a spaceship shaped like a long and narrow oval. I'm on the deck reestablishing its hexagon shapes; they've been covered with snow.

Even though I'm in outer space I am gliding over a dark sea. I wear no special outer space gear. I realize I've passed an island full of exotic beasts, but I'm so preoccupied with inscribing my hexagons, so narrowly focused, that I'm missing the marvelous sights of this amazing journey. I'm aware of the contradiction of being in space and on the sea; I don't understand it.

Later I'm in the lower portion of the ship when a fire breaks out. Someone's wife, perhaps mine, had left paper plates on deck. I wonder if these might have triggered the blaze. I'm the captain, so I rush upstairs to lead the crew in the effort to extinguish the blaze. We all realize we're fighting for our lives, and this is very energizing and motivating.

Interpretation: This dream was triggered by news about the birth of the cosmos, dark matter (the dark sea), and dark energy. Is my narrow focus causing me to miss the wonders of the universe? Domesticity (the wife's paper plates) create a blaze. Am I angry about its demands? The dream points out that I need a challenge that I feel is crucially important (leading others in a life or death struggle) to be energized and motivated. Yet it is the feminine that releases the captain from his narrow focus, if we assume that the wife's paper plates did indeed create the blaze. He won't be re-instating hexagons when he's fighting for his life. On the other hand, he won't be looking at the marvels of the universe either.

So--is there something that the life and death struggle distracts from? Is it not so important in and of itself, but rather as a way of not seeing something? What about the exotic beasts? In the dream they are something like gargoyles, ugly and fascinating at the same time. Why do gargoyles appeal? They have the undeniable intrigue of something atavistic, something scary that can't hurt us. Something that holds primitive antisocial tendencies, but also symbolically protects us, just as they protected medieval churches.

Interesting to note that it is when I (the captain) go "under" (into the unconscious) that the blaze breaks out.

Taera is the Color of the Earth

The Dream: I am painting Taera, a mythological goddess who represents the Earth. I paint her the color of earth. It seems very dark to me; I am concerned as I put this color down that I will not get smooth transitions.

I didn't remember this dream until later in the day when I was reading Marija Gimbutas' The Living Goddess. On page 208 she mentions that an Old European goddess, the Lithuanian Zemyna, is black. Her name comes from the word “zeme,” meaning earth.

Interpretation: My dream evoked an archetype: the earth, fertile and black, represented as a female deity. I accept this concept, but with some misgivings: when I wonder if she is too dark. I am looking at the difficulties of the life she symbolizes, with its inherent pain and inevitable darkness. And yes, the transitions are difficult!

Through a Screen Darkly

The Dream: I am at my childhood home. All is dark. I go to the front door; expecting it to be shut and locked. The screen door is shut, but the heavy door behind it is open. Inside all is dark, and I'm not expecting anyone to be there. I call out, alarmed. “Is anyone there? Who's inside?” I get no answer and walk over to the porch by the side of the house, thinking I might have better luck reaching someone through the back door.

Interpretation: I try to get past the screen that separates the dead and the living. I'm in the dark and get no answers. I'm not expecting anyone to be there, yet the evidence of the open door tells me that someone might be inside. The dream hints that “inside” ourselves is the place to find those we love who are no longer with us, but I don't have that realization during the dream. Instead I'm left feeling concerned, uneasy, worried. Has the home been breached by intruders? Is anyone there? The mystery might be solved when I go to the back door, in other words, when I approach the problem from a different vantage point, a different point of view.

Guest Dreamer: Uninvited Guest

Today's guest dreamer, Myamystic, is looking for the key that will unlock her dream. It's found by looking beyond the waking life people who populate her dream to figure out which part of her the characters represent.
The Dream: My dream kicks off with me visiting my boyfriend in Mumbai. I enter the house with a key, I don’t know how I got it. The house is in total darkness and empty. I then realise that I am in his parent’s house and am about to leave when the parents return . . . . The mother gets all worked and questions me.

I apologise and leave with my bags.

Carla's thoughts: It's certainly possible that a dream like this is about Myamystic's feelings about her boyfriend's parents, or about how she feels society judges her relationship. She will know if that is the case. It's also possible that the dream is about her own feelings, and in this analysis I'll explore the dream from that point of view. As usual, I'll talk about Myamystic's dream as if it were my own.

In this dream I'm working through my feelings about intimacy. How do I feel about this relationship? How do I think it will go? The key represents a new insight. The "uninvited guest" of my dream title refers to these unconscious thoughts intruding into consciousness. I've been in the dark about my own feelings when it comes to closeness and trust: I am exploring unknown territory here, and that's why the dream is set in someone else's house.

I am in his parent’s house. All the people in a dream have been created by the dreamer and have more to do with her than with the waking life people they represent. So I will look at what I have in common with the dream mother. Like her, am I worked up, suspicious? Do I feel that someone has invaded my space just as the dream ego has invaded this woman's house? Perhaps I'd like an explanation for things about my boyfriend that I don't understand, or about feelings I have that I've pushed away.

That I apologize tells me I might be wrong here. There's something I haven't seen (I've been in the dark). The luggage I take away represents my emotional baggage, things from the past that I'm still lugging around. I think my dream wants me to look at these things in a new way in hopes that it will be the key to my avoiding an empty house (loneliness).

Still A Beginner

The Dream: I am waiting and waiting for a fellow to go skiing with. It is getting onto 4:00, about the time I would like to stop skiing for the day. At one point I think “Why did I wait for him? I should have just gone on by myself.” I think about what an inept skier I am, and how this fellow probably doesn't realize that and will be annoyed when he discovers it. I know it's a very long, but beautiful, lift ride up to the ski area. “By the time we get there,” I think, “it will be getting dark.”

Interpretation: In this attempt to do something that looks beautiful but that I seem to have difficulty grasping I see my struggle to create a meaningful life. I feel I'm running out of time. In feeling that others are impatient with my inadequacy I project my own harsh self-judgment onto them.

Self Defense

The Dream: I am leaving my apartment building at 61st and 1st. As I exit I want to lock the outside door, but I don't have the key. A slightly built young man with close cropped blond hair is standing uncomfortably close. I'm not too concerned about the missing key because the door is self-locking, but I do wonder how I'll get in later, and whether my unlocked apartment is safe.

As I exit the man shows no sign of leaving but comes toward me in a threatening manner. I go across the street, toward total darkness. He starts to follow and I threaten him with a pair of kitchen scissors. Even as I threaten him, trying to drive him off, I question whether or not I could actually stab him. I'm not sure my posturing is convincing. I awaken in fear.

Interpretation: Dreams are generally triggered by a recent event. At a dinner party the night before Hilda, a woman from Germany, told the story her mother's teaching her to carry scissors as a defensive weapon. At 17 Hilda had the opportunity to test their effectiveness: she saw a man attacking a woman and used the scissors to drive him off. The story and the storyteller provided the raw material for a dream that weaves these influences into my personal issues.

The setting of the dream tells me that the conflict goes way back: I lived at 61st and 1st many years ago. I can't lock the door on this, even though I'd like to. (I don't have the key.) The fact that this door is “self” locking says two things about my dilemma: that it limits the full expression of who I am, and that I'm the one responsible for my own limitation. The dilemma is subtle: I am threatened by being locked out (denied) my authentic self—but equally threatened by being open, by leaving the place where I feel safe (my apartment) unlocked.

The German lady telling the story activates my familiar inner Nazi (my rigid, totalitarian part) who, in the form of the young man with close cropped blond hair, frightens me here. I'm pleased that he is now “slight” (diminished) but he still scares me. To get away from him I retreat into total darkness. (I'm sure in the dark about this problem!) It is probably a good sign that I threaten him and attempt to drive him off, even if I haven't quite convinced myself that I'm capable of getting rid of him.

Wrestling with Heavy Issues

Something that has happened in the recent past usually triggers a particular dream. But there is always a reason that, of all the things that happen every day, our dreams focus on the particular thing they choose.

The Dream: A woman with dark curly hair is in a wrestling arena, lying on the floor of the rink as if in bed. She is supposed to be recounting her dreams for a panel of dream experts, but instead she is telling us about her life experiences. I don’t feel qualified to comment on these.

Interpretation: This dream was triggered by The Dr. Phil Show that had a segment on dreams shortly before I had this one. While I had commented on some posts about dreams that had been generated by the show on the program’s website, some people had written about serious personal problems, and I didn’t feel comfortable commenting on those. But to bring the dream’s meaning home to my life: the recent deaths of two friends have left me wrestling with some heavy issues. The sports arena is the symbolic venue for the struggle. My life experience, so far, hasn’t given me the means to work through these difficulties. But if I can get away from dealing with the problem rationally (through life experience) and give it over to the dream expert (my own inner wisdom) I might find a way to cope.

The Beautiful Dark Baby

The Dream: A good friend from my college days has a very young daughter, about 3 years old, with dark skin. I look at her husband to see if he is the source of the girl’s complexion, but he is as fair as his wife. The girl is adorable; her coloring is inexplicable. Was she adopted?

Interpretation: Something that has its roots in my past (college days) has recently (within the past three years) come to fruition. While it isn’t what I expected, and I’m not entirely sure where it came from, it is beautiful. Clearly I must adopt (accept) it.

Guest Dreamer: The Light and the Dark

This dream was donated by BostonBabe, who provides us with both a context and an interpretation for her dream. She has asked for my comments as well, so I’ll add them at the end of the post.

The Context: Nine months ago, I left my corporate job to devote time to my own creative work. Eight days ago, I held an open house in my home to show my recent work, the first public viewing of my art in five years. Two days ago, I spent the afternoon with an artist and his wife (a former colleague). I was introduced to artist friends of theirs, saw the husband’s recent work, and was given some guidance on the business of art. That night, I had some disturbing dreams.

Three Dream Fragments:

1. A piece entitled Floor Lamp, the first piece in my show--to the left as you enter the gallery--lies in disarray. It has fallen off its shelf and lies on its side on the floor, damaged. The art books that were carefully arranged in a pyramiding stack under the shelf are also in disarray scattered about the floor. Needless to say, this was upsetting.
2. Out of necessity, I have gathered up some essential belongings and am holed up in the back seat of my car, which is parked outside my house. My house is isolated on a dark, lonely street. As I look towards the end of the road (to the right as you face the house), I see the entrance to a dark woods. I am frightened.
3. This dream is the most fragmentary: A man is dying very, very slowly.  Not painfully, or sadly, but in a very slow process. 

 BostonBabe’s Interpretation: On one level, the danger captured in these fragments is from my inner critic, who goes back to my father.  I think the stubborn persistence of the inner critic in my psyche is captured in dream  Fragment 3. The destruction in dream Fragment 1 may be my inner critic's response to the "audacity" of claiming to create work that is founded on centuries of art history (represented by the piled up art books) -- the "audacity" of claiming my place as an artist. As for dream Fragment 2, I think I am concerned, not only about managing my inner critic, but also about the couple I visited right before the dreams -- can I trust them? Do they have my best interests at heart? Do I need to protect my self? Will I lose control of my life? Anxiety about becoming more visible to the "serious" art community may have influenced this fragment, as well my concern to protect my creative core.

Carla:  Since interpretations of others’ dreams—as well as of their words or deeds, for that matter—are projections, I will take BostonBabe’s dream on as my own in these comments. My take on it may or may not be true for BB.