Saint Me

The Dream: I am looking at old photos of myself. I see one with my daughter, from when she was 3 or 4. I am surprised at how pretty I am. I now realize, but didn't in the dream, that the face I'm admiring, while similar to mine, is not me. Nevertheless, in the dream it is a revelation that I am prettier (or was) than I thought. I know I'm now older, but I think that maybe if I put a little effort into it I wouldn't look too bad.

I see a picture of myself in a group. I emanate a kind of illumination, like a saint.

Interpretation: The dream is concerned with what Jung called the “persona”, the side of ourselves we put on in public, at work, in social situations. This face is not mine. The dream is about appearances: a part of me thinks I need to try a little harder to keep up an image that will be well received. The second part of the dream tells me that another part of me thinks I'm more than good enough, as good as a saint, and that my role is to enlighten others; no doubt they need to be told how good I am! These images tell me my self-image is off balance: time for a reality check.

Make A Choice and Pay The Price

If you look at conflict between the characters in your dream you will be able to home in on the difficulty the dream is attempting to resolve.
The Dream: My daughter is going for a treatment of antibiotics at a new age facility. I get preachy and tell her that if she needs antibiotics she should see a doctor, not go to the sort of squiggly-headed pseudo-scientific place she's chosen. I point out that if she's taking antibiotics unnecessarily they might not work when she really needs them.

I become aware that she has made this choice because she thinks she can sneak in without paying, whereas if she went to a doctor she would have to come up with a co-pay. I'm surprised she would do such a thing.

Despite my reservations about the place, I go to the facility myself, into a dressing room that is a converted parking lot. A male attendant scolds me for not getting into the queue for one of the two private, curtained dressing rooms. I hadn't been aware of the queue, but when I realize there are only two private changing rooms I start to pull off my clothes where I am, thinking it would be ridiculous to wait and who cares? The rough, tough security guard is embarrassed and looks away awkwardly.

I undergo some sort of treatment at this spa, pay for it, and leave. Later a bill comes for my daughter's treatment. It's over $600.00. She won't like it, but she can afford to pay. I know she'll be upset about the amount and surprised to learn that she didn't get away with anything after all.

Interpretation: My inner child is stubbornly trying to get away with something. From my “mature” point of view this child part of me ignores the facts and chooses an ineffective treatment for my problem. And yet the older, wiser, and objecting dream ego chooses to go to the same place for treatment. Through the dream I become aware that I don't want to pay the price my cure requires.  It's as if the dream wants to show me that there are ways to grow even in situations that aren't ideal.

The healing process begins as I expose my vulnerability (undress) without discomfort.   When told I must wait my turn for a private “changing” room I change publicly, without shame. This takes place in a partially converted parking lot, and the part of me that protects my security looks away. These two things signal that the “change” is to a “parked” and closely guarded part of myself.

Finally I accept that there is a high price for my child's attempt to freeload, but I know that my child, now grown, can afford it. I won't like it, but it's a price I am able to pay. It's as if one part of my psyche is dragging another along into a more mature awareness or resolution.

The Boy Baby

Your dream will often have a back story; don't be too quick to think you've pinned down its meaning. Most of the time you will need to lift more than one veil.

The Dream: My daughter has had a baby. She arrives at my house with her husband and hands me the baby, who has a crabby little face. Nevertheless, I gladly receive the child. After a few moments I realize I don't even know the baby's sex. I ask, and my daughter tells me it's a boy. I am slightly disappointed and say, “I'm not sure I know what to do with a boy.” All my experience has been with girls.

I seem to be in charge of the creature; he goes everywhere in my arms. If he cries, I wonder, will I hand him back to his mom as most people do with a baby? My daughter is glowing, very happy. She looks very thin, and I'm concerned. She tells me she weights 150 pounds: is that enough? “You don't look it,” I say.

Even though I'm  enjoying holding him, part of me is concerned that I'll get saddled with this child to raise. I wonder if my daughter will leave him with me and go along her merry way, unencumbered. I don't think I can take on children at this point. One quiet baby is one thing; a couple of active toddlers would be exhausting.

Interpretation: The day before I had this dream I had a visit from a friend cataloging a list of recent losses: one of her aunts had died as well as a very good friend. Being presented in waking life with her pain made me question my ability to nurture her. Part of me wanted to fob off the responsibility; someone else should be taking care of her. As long as the “baby” is quiet I can manage; if he becomes activated it's too much!

What's behind this unwillingness to comfort and console, to take care of a friend? My own “baby”that becomes activated in this situation is the underlying thing that frightens me. An incident that coincided with the visit from my friend was the more important dream trigger. We found three dead birds on our property, all victims of the neighbor's cats. Seeing the mangled birds brought back memories of seeing dead baby bird fetuses as a child. At the time it upset my child sensibility terribly, and the dream reminds me, once again, why it's difficult to deal with another's pain: it taps into my own reservoir.

A Shaken World

The Dream: Four girls, two of them my daughters, are in a one-story Victorian building when an earthquake breaks it in two. I am very worried about the girls, but it turns out they are fine, unharmed. After a while I think I should survey the damage, thinking most of my crystal will be broken. When I look, all seems intact, surprisingly. I do find evidence, however, that a piece has broken, there are some pieces of glass on a shelf that hold the goblets. I can't figure out, however, what broke.

Interpretation: Dreams have a way of taking what is going on in our interior world and merging it with images from waking life. One of my daughters had been abroad visiting her primary school (a Victorian building). A recent television show had featured buildings with destroyed interiors. The dream tells me that I've been shaken up (the earthquake), so my question to myself is: “What threatens me?” Both my daughters had been traveling, and I had been worried, perhaps subliminally, about their safety. The dream shows me my parental concern and asks me to decide whether or not it's realistic. While their being away may have shaken up my interior world (my serenity), the dream points out that no damage has been done, even though I'm expecting it and go so far as to look for it.

A Broken Engagement

The Dream: I am engaged to the fiancé of a gay friend. He and I are dancing together in preparation for our wedding. He is very small, but very self-confident, and to me this comes across as his being full of himself. He does one surprising dance move, a head to toe shimmy. I'm impressed, but—try as I might—I can't get him to catch on to the grapevine.

I become aware that I have no feeling for him. This makes me a little sad. At one point I hold him as if he were a child, across my lap. I don't know why we're engaged. I say to him, “Don't you think we should get to know one another better?” He is hurt, I can see that in his eyes, but as far as I'm concerned we've only met 3 times. He says, “You know it's right when it's right.”

It doesn't feel right to me, and I want to break it off. At first I don't think I can because people have been invited, all sorts of arrangements have been made. How many people go through with a marriage, I wonder, only because they don't know how to get out of it? Then I remember that it's the planning for my daughter's marriage that has been finalized, not mine. I call it off.

Interpretation: What is the engagement I've broken? Clearly it's to something I find inappropriate, to another's fiancé, and a gay man at that. This dream character represents a small part of myself that excels in spontaneity (the shimmy) and refuses to be trained (I can't teach him the grapevine). The dream points out that I've broken off my engagement to the emotional, intuitive side of myself, that part that knows without analysis when something is right. It's the egotistical small child side, the 3 year old who is full of himself.

I come to realize through the dream that I don't feel I know this part: despite the fact that we're engaged I don't think we know each other. He embarrasses me, and I want to be free of him. The dream points out my discomfort, giving me the first step in possibly reintegrating this alien aspect.

The Reading

The Dream: I'm at a reading taking place in a storage facility. People sit among shelves and equipment. I read a piece, then ask to read another by my friend Jane. Describing Jane to the organizer I say she's intelligent and pretty—then I amend the pretty part, saying I'm not so sure about that. I wonder to myself if there is actually something a bit creepy about her looks. I think it would be good if Jane could come and talk to the group, but dismiss the idea because I think that San Francisco is too far away from her home to make the trip worth her while.

I'm allowed to read Jane's contribution. I begin to feel I might be taking too much of the group's time, having read once already. As I read I don't know whether Jane in fact wrote this—it's in the style of a Victorian like Poe--or whether it's a newly discovered old manuscript.

In any case, I read it aloud and as I do I realize I haven't prepared, and I'm stumbling over the text, not reading well at all. About the second stanza I come to a verse about farts; I wasn't expecting this and plow through, trying not to giggle like a kid.

When I've finished there is a man to my right, sitting behind a movable staircase, who seems taken with my reading. “When you smiled,” he says reverentially, “I thought you were an actress!” He speaks as if this is a great compliment, and I wonder if I should tell him that I once was an actress. I decide not to. I can see this fellow has a crush on me, and I think about telling him instead that I take my marriage vows seriously. I think about my daughter and the way she dismisses the many men who fall in love with her as if it is a homage to be expected and tolerated.

Interpretation: This dream is about acceptance. In the first paragraph the dream reveals the theme, the need for me to take a look at my stored self-concept. So as not to be too alarming, the ego is disguised behind my “friend” Jane. Then, one by one, the dream delves into my various insecurities. Apparently I am comfortable with the idea that I'm intelligent, but can't accept the idea that I am pretty—in fact, I see something about my appearance as off-putting, creepy. I'm kind of out of it, too, so far from the city that going into town is not worthwhile.

Still, I forge on with presenting myself, cloaked in the Jane character. I read her contribution, and the problems multiply. I worry that I'm imposing on the group, taking up too much of their time. I'm really not worthy of this attention. And did I actually do the work that I'm taking credit for? Maybe not. And I'm not even prepared! I stumble around, perform badly. When the unconscious finally gets fed up with all this self-abasement it presents me with a fart: a lot of hot air, and stinky to boot.

Having confronted the absurdity of my low self-esteem, an admirer appears. He lets me know my fumbling around and relentless inadequacy was nothing more than an act. He sees me as I am, and he loves me. I'm not ready to accept this acceptance so I get a little stuffy and contemplate lecturing him about marriage vows.

By the end of the dream it seems I've gone from deflation to inflation, dismissing (now in the guise of my daughter) those who love me in a high-handed manner. Or is it more subtle than that? The dream is pointing out that if I am accepted I reject the acceptor, like the old saw about not wanting to belong to a club that would let you in. That explains the man's position near the movable staircase. With this inner script there is no way to avoid climbing, endlessly.

Time to Get Rid of Tired Old Ideas

The Dream: My uncle S is a very old, decrepit man. He walks bent over and is housebound, yet his spirit is domineering, his voice is strong, and he's calling the shots. My daughter, about 5 years old, needs a home and I've “placed” her with him. She comes to me saying he's kicked her out; he has someone older, an adolescent girl who can do chores. I wonder if he has a dirty old man's interest in an attractive teenager.

I realize I need to find a new home for my child, but resent this intrusion into my work-a-day world. I have so many projects—now this! But I soon realize what my true priority should be: taking care of my child.

Interpretation: This uncle represents the stern, unattractive  side of my animus, my own internalized patriarch. Forty years of feminism have weakened him, but his voice remains strong, and he has made no place for the feminine except as a convenience (a doer of chores) or a sex object. Of course I'm everything in my dream, so neither have I! At first I am too preoccupied by the busyness of contemporary life to pay much attention, but the dream tells me that this should be a priority. I need to care for the vulnerable (young child) part of myself, my inner femininity, and the first step will be to stand up to my own faulty conceptions of masculinity and femininity.

Too Many Fingers in the Pie

The Dream: I'm wandering, perhaps lost. I become aware of my daughter's fiancé, an older lawyer who is working as an accountant. He has many extra fingers on one hand. He asks some questions, and I realize how sharp he is. He's very incisive in his questioning, and understands the possible ramifications of things almost intuitively. He seems like a good match for my daughter, who is very focused on work.

Interpretation: The dream is pointing out (with all those fingers!) that I'm overly focused on work and obligation. The questioning part of myself (the lawyer) is trying to figure out (keep account of) what's important. If he succeeds, perhaps he'll get my daughter (my inner child) to take a break.

Phantom of the Opera

M

The Dream: I am with my mother in a subway. We are planning to meet my father and my daughter at a play. The subway we're on is due to make a special stop to accommodate opera goers. We are running a little late, and I'm getting anxious. The subway operator announces that we are going to skip the extra stop, and I'm relieved at this time saver. I had thought our meeting was at 8:30, but mother tells me it's not until 9:00. Again I'm relieved; we have a little more time to make it. 

“Oh, yes,” says my mother derisively, “you and your father will be getting nervous, but your daughter and I won't be concerned.”

Mother is an insulin-dependent diabetic. To add to my anxiety she announces she needs food (to avoid a life-threatening insulin shock). We get off the train and go in search of, but nothing seems right or appropriate. The few food stalls we find have the wrong sort of food.

Apparently we do find a place where, as I continue to worry about being late, an Italian woman serves me a bowl of soup as I sit/lie on a twin-size bed. The soup looks better than I had expected, with lots of julienned strips of vegetables like zucchini. I eat while still in the bed, and spill some. It makes a mark the color and consistency of pomegranate jelly. I point this out to the woman and tell her it can be cleaned up easily; I start scrubbing with pretty good success.

The Italian woman's husband comes in and the woman signals to him that outsiders are present. They speak in Italian. Soon they switch to a combination of English and Italian. Meanwhile I become aware that my mother is incapable of feeding herself. I sit down next to her at a small circular table and feed her.

Interpretation: Even with the best of mothers, and my mother was as good as it is humanly possible to be, some dregs of unhappiness will settle to the bottom of the mother/child relationship. In this dream, years after her death, I look at some of this murky sediment. The first thing that struck me about the dream was my mother's derisive comment. She did have this hateful way of criticizing me occasionally; rather than acknowledging that there might be a reason for my anxiety (or other negative feeling) the message was that I was wrong to feel it. The comparison to my father in the dream reflected a frequent jab as well: comparing me to my father was an indirect and implied rejection. She must have felt that she was the superior one; he was not the one to emulate. Here (on the subway) we see the subterranean conflicts of the mid-century marriage. We're running out of time. I do feel that, especially after my younger brother's death.

Despite Mother's superiority she needs to be taken care of. The diabetes of the dream was real, and it had us all running in circles. She was very brave about it in many, many ways, but the threat of insulin reactions , horrible to behold, was ever present and frequently happened. The need to get access to food could be, and often was, a problem. This created an on-going anxiety: another sort of running out of time.

I eat, forgetting the purpose of the stop for food was mother's need. Am I demonstrating my selfishness? I've certainly been accused of it, directly and indirectly, by Mother. The foreign language being spoken tells me that there is something I don't understand. When the language switches to a combination of English and Italian, I begin to get it, partially: I must feed (take care of) Mother. Now I have to ask myself, "Is what I've come to understand that I do feed mother, or that I should feed mother?" She has been dead for 8 years. Is it appropriate, at this point in my life, that I feed her? Or am I living with an unpleasant burden that I have created for myself by continuing to feed her? Time is running out, and if I want to skip the work (the opera) and get to the “play” I probably need to sort this out.

The Mute Child

The Dream: I've picked up the phone. I know it is my daughter and that she's upset. She says nothing. “Alice?! Alice?!!” I say. I know the news will be bad, but perhaps not as bad as she thinks; I know she tends to be very emotional. She still says nothing, trying to collect her emotions so she can speak. I awaken in fear, as from a nightmare.

Interpretation: When I pick up the phone there is, in a sense, no one there. This dialog is with myself. My daughter represents my own inner child who is unable to express her strong feelings. The dream tells me that she is trying to collect (gather together) her emotions so that she can speak (express them). These emotions are overwhelming to me, so strong that they feel like a nightmare. I awaken before I can confront them. The dream does not resolve the emotional difficulty, but it does call me on it.

Guest Dreamer: Rapprochement in the Garden

Susan, whose daughter has recently divorced, contributed this dream.
The Dream: I am in the back garden with James (my daughter's ex-husband). I remember there was a time when I asked him to fix a broken tooth, and he looked into my mouth. This memory leaves me feeling exposed and uncomfortable. We have a conversation, and as it goes on my anger at him lessens. In some way I forgive him for the mess he made of my daughter's marriage. A sort of peace prevails, with a feeling also of sadness and loss.

Carla's thoughts: If this were my dream, the broken tooth would symbolize the broken relationship. My son-in-law's looking into my mouth represents a level of trust that he has betrayed by the way he treated my daughter. I'm now embarrassed that I allowed him into my life and into the close circle of my family. Yet the dream shows me that I will not hang onto these negative feelings. I acknowledge my sadness and the sense of loss that I feel because this relationship failed, and in recognizing these feelings I can begin to get past my anger and forgive him.

Medieval Fortress

The Dream: We are walking in NYC. I'm with Clark and one of my daughters. We're in the neighborhood of my old apartment. I say, “Ahh! Second Avenue.” I tell them that the building on the corner has been redone; it was far more modest when I lived around here. Its pitched roof looks Tudor yet the building's simple lines are contemporary. Turning to look at the building I once lived in, I say that it hasn't changed. But it has: it is nothing like what it was. It looks like a blocky medieval fortress with a large courtyard. Its carved stone is ancient, showing clear signs of age. There are several entrances to the building. I see a large formal main entrance up some steps and a less formal one closer to us. My daughter spots one I didn't see, a basement entrance to our right. She pushes on the door; it isn't locked and we enter. I'm surprised access is so unguarded.

When we enter we find a large lounge area, full of people. Do they all live in the building, I wonder—or have some wandered in off the street looking for a place to stay?  It's difficult for me to get around them. Finally I get through and we go up an escalator. All the time I'm surprised by how different this building is to the one I remember living in. I'm separated from Clark and my daughter and go into a room that's full of computer-type devices. As I start to leave the sales manager asks if he can have a little bit of information. I say no.

Interpretation: This long dream seems to be about the complexity of maintaining a consistent sense of self as I go through life. A building (my “self”) is clobbered together from wildly divergent styles:Tudor and contemporary. The building I once lived in is now a medieval fortress made of ancient stone. The self this represents is ancient, made of stone, and shows clear signs of age—I suppose I'll have to admit to being an inflexible old biddy. My unconscious seems to be hinting that this is a fortress that needs to be stormed, or at least entered, and there are several paths that would serve the purpose: going through the basement (becoming more down to earth) would result in my being more open (unguarded).

I am surprised to discover the many parts of myself—all the people that live in this building. Can they all be me? Or have some of them only wandered in for a while? The ego (the sales manager who's looking for information) wants to know more; the unconscious doesn't want to cooperate.

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.

Aren't They Grand?

The Dream: I observe grandparents very excited about their grandchildren. I think it must be something you have to experience to understand.

Interpretation: The night before I had heard a politician speak ecstatically about his new daughter, and I felt there was something phony about it. It was as if he were trying to create a feeling of commonality with his listeners; aren't we all alike, us doting parents? My dream tells me I wasn't able to accept his version of reality on his say so; first I would need to experience it.

Lady in Red

As you work to figure out what a dream is trying to tell you, one thing to look for is conflict.

The Dream: I send my daughters red net fabric so they can make themselves costumes. I'm not sure they will be able to. I think I will also make myself a costume from this fabric, and I become excited about the prospect. A playful occasion is coming, some event that calls for these outfits. One part of me resists the idea of the work involved.

Interpretation: The conflict here is between work and play, and perhaps there is some confusion about the two. I am giving my (inner) children the means to be creative in a playful way, and I'm enthusiastic about joining in the fun. Then I realize that work is involved, and I am not quite so eager. This is one of the dichotomies of a life devoted to the arts. On the one hand, it's fun. On the other—it really is a lot of work. My unconscious is telling me not to get bogged down.

My Child is Kidnapped

The Dream: My daughter and I are walking along a road that leads to the train station. The street and sidewalk are empty. A car draws near, an old-style sedan with a black landau top and a white body. The car is going slowly, near us, behaving oddly enough to make me slightly apprehensive. I look away for a moment and when I look back my daughter has disappeared. I stare into the car and see her in the front seat sitting between two severe-looking adults. The clearest one is an older woman with gray-black hair and a quiet demeanor. When I call 911 the operator tells me there is nothing the police can do. She suggests I go talk to the kidnappers, face to face.

Interpretation: Is my (inner) kid napping? Has she been stolen from me? On the other hand, I’m seeing the situation in black and white, no nuanced shades of gray; that hints that I might be operating under the influence of some simplistic, childish ideas that I’m unaware of. Who are they, these somber people in an old-fashioned car? Do I need to talk to (better understand) the forces that have taken my inner child? Clearly, I’m on my own with this one; the “authorities” cannot help.

Sisterhood is Powerful

The Dream: I’m in a very nice, upscale restaurant with Clark and my two daughters, who are adults, but are wearing clothes they might have worn as children. The dresses are pretty, old-fashioned, summery. I say something about the fights they had as children over clothes. “Are you going to embarrass us in this restaurant?” I ask. They pretend they are going to have an argument, just to tease me.

Interpretation: My waking- life daughters didn’t fight over clothes or embarrass us in restaurants, and they don’t currently dress as children: the children in this dream represent my own inner children and tell me that I’m integrating psychic material from the past. (Their clothes are old fashioned.) Their squabbles stand for old internal conflicts that still make me uneasy. (“Are you going to embarrass us. . ?”) On the other hand, their differences have apparently been worked out to the point that they can get together and tease me. And I know they’re teasing, a good sign.

I’m a 10

The Dream: My daughter is looking for a job, in spite of the fact that she has one. Scores are given to applicants based on GPA and work experience so that prospective employers can get a quick idea of potential employees’ capabilities. My daughter’s score is 325, and we try to figure out what that means. We discover that she got credit for having an “A” average and, in addition, so much work experience that her score is over the top. We are relieved by this good news.

Interpretation: Over the years my dreams often pointed out that I wasn’t getting (or giving myself) any credit, symbolized by my not being awarded things like credit cards or loans. In this dream, my inner child (my daughter) triumphs with an out of the ballpark score, based on “credits” she has earned. The numbers of her score, added together, make 10, another symbol of perfection. Am I getting over-inflated here?

Why is she looking for a new job?  The dream tells me to keep an eye open for new opportunities; perhaps there are some that would make better use of my abilities.

I Sacrifice My Social Security

The Dream: My daughter has been working as a prostitute in order to pay off her school debt. At first my husband Clark and I don’t react to this; we think she’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. However, I come to realize, and can see in her countenance, that this “work” is a threat to her very soul since it demands that she cut herself off from her true feelings. I want to help her get out of this situation, so I offer her money. I don’t have much, only my social security check, but I decide, after a little internal struggle, that I don’t need it.

Interpretation: In this dream I begin to realize that I’ve been prostituting my inner vision to satisfy outside demands. I’m paying off a debt (what I owe others) for my education--or what might be more accurately called my socialization. In the course of the dream I become willing to sacrifice approval (social security) to free myself from the necessity to do work I don’t love.

The High Cost of Femininity

The danger of being a woman was on my mind: the evening before the dream I had read about the incessant rape by invading Tartars of indigenous Polish women, followed by their subjugation at the hands of Teutonic knights. Coincidentally, I had seen a history program on television that featured the rape committed by the Danes when they invaded England in the late middle ages.

The Dream: I have been taken somewhere to be given in marriage. There are several other women in the same situation; they might be my daughters, although we are all the same age. We spend some time buying beautiful, feminine clothing. The clerk is a very attractive person, with dark hair, and at one point we meet in a passionate embrace. The clothing is very expensive—I am surprised at how much it costs. I buy one blouse.

Interpretation: While I enjoy the beautiful things about being a woman, as symbolized by the lovely clothes, I become aware that they come at a price. I’m very attracted to whoever is selling me this concept (the salesperson); I embrace what he has to offer but I’m left thinking about its high cost, and I limit how much I buy (into it).