Showing posts with label four. Show all posts
Showing posts with label four. Show all posts

Sunday, May 24, 2015

In Memoriam


The Dream
: I had this dream the night of my brother Greg's birthday. My other brother Nick and I are at a memorial service for  Greg. We are sitting about four rows back, on the left side of the chapel. I call it a chapel: it is nonsectarian, like the place where Greg's actual memorial was held. We are separated by some others, not sitting next to each other. I hear Nick weep. I weep as well. We don't interact.

Interpretation: Nick and I, united in a grief we cannot talk about. We are separated, yet also together, in the same place. Kubler Ross's 4th stage of grief (we are 4 rows back) is depression, sadness. My unconscious is telling me where I am in the grieving process.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Ready to Die


The Dream:
The dream was of an image of four squares lined up in a row. I felt that I had achieved what had been necessary, and I was now ready to die.

Interpretation:
I felt ready to die in the sense of being “prepared.” I had done the necessary thing and could now move on. When I awakened the dream message left me feeling uneasy until I played with the idea of death in a dream as being the death of no longer needed aspects of the Psyche: in other words, I began to see this death as preliminary to a rebirth. The four squares of the dream remind me of Jung's diagram of the Psyche, with its four functions, and his interpretation of the square as symbolic of a centered Self.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Love and Death



Sometimes dreams very simply and clearly encapsulate the central issue of a life situation.

The Dream:
I am in a forest. To my left are four trees, whose leaves have turned beautiful fall shades. I move up a mountain in some mysterious way, as if on an invisible conveyor belt. The forest surrounding these four trees is deep conifer green. Out of an intense, palpable loneliness I pray to god for love. The god tells me that great love involves great pain and asks, “Can you handle it?” I say I can.

Interpretation:
In waking life a close friend’s husband is dying, and as I watch her suffer I ask myself, in a dream, if this can be avoided. The dream tells me it cannot.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Tree House


The Dream: I am with three people: a young dark-haired Frenchman, a girl of about 8 to 10, and Aunt Peggy. I know an English pub nearby that has a tree-house over a stream, and I want to show it to the young man who doubts it exists. I find the place. The tree-house has changed a lot since I last saw it. The structure looks far more planned and sturdy, as if lawyers had warned the owner about getting rid of potential hazards. It has lost a lot of its charm, but at least it's still there. It has an unusual staircase, very narrow at the bottom as if to make it impossible for an adult to gain access. I wonder if I can squeeze myself into the narrow stairwell and if I do, whether or not it will be possible to get down again. Then I notice there are some wider stairs on the other side that I could use. Nevertheless I squeeze myself into the narrow staircase and go up to the house over the stream. The four of us are at the top, wandering around. All enjoy it, but I feel it’s become too industrial, not like the more human and haphazard children’s structures of my youth. This place--too sturdy, over planned, mechanical—has lost its soul and poetry.

Interpretation: This dream reinforces what the previous dream was driving at: I’ve lost some valuable part of myself that is connected to childhood. I’ve become too rigid (the structure looks planned and sturdy).  This elevated trait of childhood (represented by the tree house) still brings pleasure, but is in danger of being changed to the point of its annihilation. The dream is pointing out the danger (losing soul and poetry) of being too careful.

Friday, July 30, 2010

The Fortune Tellers


Dreams do their job whether or nor we’re aware of it, and whether or not we remember them. It’s interesting to watch this mysterious and powerful psychic force at work in those dreams we do remember. The next three posts are good examples.

The Dream: I am in a group of four. The others in the group are my younger brother and two children. We are performing some sort of ritual which the local people think will foretell their future. We feel like charlatans; our scientific backgrounds tell us this is hokum, but the people are lined up as far as the eye can see, awaiting our pronouncements. We look at one another knowingly and hopelessly. We can’t get out of it, so we proceed.

There are some odd implements involved in our process. One is a long pipe, red with rust. Another is a nondescript, passive, slightly plump brown-haired girl. She uses the pipe as a catapult, and we foretell events depending on where she lands.

Interpretation: A younger brother and children are both symbols of vulnerability, emphasizing its importance in this dream. The two children also suggest the possibility of growth. Four is a significant number for Jung, who sees it as representing a kind of completeness, as in the four corners that make a square, the four directions (North, East, South, and West) or the four seasons.  So what do I have so far? Some phase of my life is complete (the number four). I am vulnerable, and it’s time for me to grow. I’m being asked to do the impossible: foretell the future, and there is considerable social pressure that I do so, even though I know I can’t. The rusty pipe (pipes connect things; rusty implies old) tells me that this is a conundrum from the past, perhaps the feelings of a child who thinks she can’t fulfill parental expectations. There’s some hope I’ll grow past this feeling of inadequacy by jumping (catapulting) beyond it. But how it turns out will depend on where I land.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Down the Steep Stairs


Although no man is an island, sometimes it feels that way. Dreams can help us find, and understand, our niche.

The Dream: I live in an apartment in a city, and I’m preparing to go to a zumba class. I’m looking through a box in the closet and find a second pair of zumba shoes that I had forgotten I have. I decide to wear these, along with a two-layer aerobic outfit. I know I"ll be too hot dressed this way; nevertheless I put on the layers. The layer closest to my body is a turtle-neck jumpsuit; over this, a decorative lace dress. Though I like my high-heel zumba shoes better, I want to wear the newly discovered low-heels.

As I exit the apartment building there's an unexpected hurdle. I am on the fourth or fifth floor, and the only way to street level is down a very steep and precarious staircase. It’s made of broken

Sunday, June 6, 2010

The Glittering Sky


Dreams come to tell us what we don’t know; and sometimes what we don’t know is as basic as what we’re thinking about.

The Dream:
We have moved to San Diego with a moving van full of furniture. In our new home—which is an older building—there is a leak in the living room ceiling. Water is coming in, and I rush to put a bucket under it. Another leak sprouts, and water gushes in again. I try to fix it.

Four boys are fighting or playing outside one of the windows. Are they neighborhood kids playing, or are they young hoodlums? I’m not sure.

When Clark sees the leaks he discounts their seriousness, saying “We’re only here for three days.”
I am stunned. “We’re only here for three days, and we brought all our furniture? We could have stayed in a hotel!”

Clark thinks we would like it better in the house.

I look out a window and am surprised to see  stars.  I show them to Clark, commenting that perhaps what I’m seeing are twinkling lights from nearby houses on a hill. Then I realize that off to the right is the sea. Over the water I clearly see a sky jammed with countless, surprising, beautiful stars.

Interpretation:
Strong emotions are emerging as I deal with a problem I’m not conscious of. The four boys who are either fighting or playing represent parts of me that are not integrated.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Take a Break


The Dream:
I’m invited to take part in various lighthearted events, but I react to the invitations by feeling weary. One in particular stands out: a 4th of July celebration is coming, with fireworks, and the kids want to go. I don’t think I’ll enjoy it.

Interpretation:
The dream shows several things coming up that are supposed to be enjoyable that I am not able to enjoy. This is a common reaction for me when I’m feeling overextended—almost always by too many obligations. The 4th of July is an interesting symbol here; it celebrates Independence Day—and freedom! I have to figure out why I’m resisting the explosion of freedom the fireworks represent.

The number 4 is significant to Jung, who sees it as a symbol of wholeness. In his terms, the dream is pointing out my resistance to integrating some part of me that would both make me whole and release a spectacular amount of energy. And it might even be fun.

Note: Carla Young is featured in an article in the SF Examiner. Read it here.