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.

What's After Me?

The Dream: This dream features a good friend, Alex. I'm in an airport and I see her. I'm pregnant and I want to tell her. Meanwhile, she is being pursued by several political groups who want to kill her. As she tells me this, in her perky, irreverent way, I realize that there are also groups out to kill me. I want to wait for the right moment to tell her I'm pregnant, but since time is short as we elude our various pursuers I blurt it out. She seems happy about it, but distracted.

Interpretation: My friend Alex died 10 years ago. I'm in an airport, in other words, something in my life is about to take off. My new direction is emphasized by the new baby I want to tell her about. But Alex and I are both being pursued: the dream is encouraging me to think about what comes after us, in other words, what legacy will I leave behind? I need to evaluate my new baby, that is, my new direction or interest, in the framework of what it leaves to others after I've passed on, as my friend has.

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.

The Present Presents Problems

The Dream: I'm with a group of people in a foreign country. Someone is giving away her things. A large group of old glass items comes up; they are dusty and wrapped in tissue. The disburser looks in my direction as she describes the lot, and I wonder if these objects are for me. How should I respond? Should I gush a bit, so she will know I'm grateful? I like these pieces; they are lovely and might be antiques, but at the same time they present some problems: I have no place to put them; the items are too much for me to carry; they would be expensive to ship, and they are fragile and could break. To top it off, I'm not sure if they are meant for me, and I know I'll feel like a fool if I act as though they are being given to me and then realize they aren't. As it turns out, the disburser has been looking in my direction because the objects are being given to the woman sitting behind me.

Interpretation: I'm in new territory (a foreign country) with the dilemma my dream presents (that potential gift). It must be something that's currently happening (the present), yet it hearkens back to something old (antique) and obscure (it's dusty, wrapped in tissue). As my unconscious attempts to unload these things she no longer wants, I struggle to come to terms with them. (How should I respond?) Once I've gone over all the reasons why I can't deal with this “gift” I side step the problem by denying it altogether. It really wasn't meant for me.

Free the Baby

The Dream: We're on a mission to rescue a baby. I get her to crawl to me from behind a chained apartment door. I take her and run, but the others in the rescue group are ambivalent. They want to rescue to girl, but they are also afraid of the hooligans on the other side. When I get outside to the car, I want to get in and flee, but the group stalls just long enough for an officious, sleazy-looking lawyer to threaten us. I persist in taking the child, and Clark tells me the lawyer has photographed us; so I know the hooligans will come after us and kill us if they can.

Interpretation: This baby resides with hooligans, so I can guess that she shares their traits. She is the small part of me that doesn't want to behave. I'm determined to save this spontaneous part of myself, and I have no respect for the lawyer, representing morally suspect rules and convention, who tries to intimidate me. He's officious and sleazy. There's freedom in this direction, even if I have to keep looking over my shoulder.

It's Hard to Change

The Dream: I'm to meet a group of women at  restaurant in a converted house. When I arrive I go into the restroom to change my clothes. In the process I misplace a sock, one of the thick wool socks I wear at night to keep my feet warm. I look everywhere, unable to find it. I am on my hands and knees going through what I think is a Lost and Found Box under the sink; it seems to have odd pieces: one glove, one sock, etc. A member of the establishment comes in and discovers me. I feel uncomfortable attempting to explain what I'm doing,and she says it's not Lost and Found, but a gift for the Father.

I give up on finding my sock. I haven't been able to change my clothes, and I think I might have more success if I go somewhere else. I leave the bathroom and find a small bedroom down the hall, go in, shut the door, and try to change. In short order someone appears, a young woman with dark short curly hair, slightly over-weight, round faced. It's her room. She's brought some friends, and I am clearly an intruder. I explain about needing to meet people at the restaurant and apologize for trespassing. I notice the time. It's 1:30 and I was supposed to meet my friends at 11:00. I realize with surprise how late it's gotten and rush off, hoping my friends will still be there.

Interpretation: This dream is about change, and the difficulty I'm having making one. The converted house points to a changed (converted) self, but I have cold feet: I can't find the thing (the warm sock) that will protect me. What am I having so much trouble changing? What have I lost that I can't find, and what does it have to do with Father-- my father? Our Father Who Art in Heaven? Is what we lose, over the course of our lives, a gift for the Father? Or could it be something I've lost and need to find again? Whatever it is, it's gotten under my skin (anagram for sink). I'm out of place; I can't find the right venue for my transformation, and it's later than I think.

Is It Okay to Spit in Public?

The Dream: The dream begins with a group of people in an old-fashioned apartment building. We exit as a group. As we walk down a hallway I decide to stop by the ladies' room. The door is open, and I wonder if it's actually the ladies—as opposed to the gents. It is, and I go in. Later I'm again looking for the ladies room and realize I'm in the men's section of the building. I see a comfortable-looking men's lounge with stuffed chairs, very clubby looking. The nearby restroom is the men's. I leave the area, feeling socially uncomfortable about my trespass.

Once outside I see a gravel path leading away from the main sidewalk and going into a treed area. I see EH on the path, brushing her teeth. I am also brushing my teeth. I wonder if I should go back to the ladies' room in order to have a place to spit.

Interpretation: This dream seems to be about the unconscious attempting to come to terms with gender. As it begins I'm in a communal setting—with a group of people in an apartment. The apartment is old-fashioned, indicating that the dream is looking back to the time in my youth when gender roles were strictly defined. As I find myself confused about which room is for women and which for men—more than once—I struggle to define where I should be. What  sort of behavior is right for me?

I leave this social confusion for the rough (gravel) road of figuring it out for myself. I see an acquaintance along this path, brushing her teeth. According to Tony Crisp, one of the many things teeth can represent in a dream are words—things we've said, things we wish we hadn't said. As I brush my teeth I might be trying to polish or perfect some of these, but I'm left with a dilemma: I find I need to spit. Crisp sees spit as a carrier of strong feelings, such as love or hate. At this point I'm too entrenched in what's considered ladylike to express these feelings, so I have to revisit the “ladies' room” before I can spit it out.

Be Who You Are

The Dream: A group of people decide to follow their own agendas and go after what they want. One woman disappears and reappears in full bridal regalia, ready to be married to another woman, although it seems to be an inconvenient moment for this event. A man opens his trousers, revealing women's underwear. I'm embarrassed, but the rest of the group is very accepting, not shocked or even particularly interested. Their reaction: “That's cool, man!” I chat with Tolstoy, not sure whether to call him Mr. Tolstoy or Peter. (The name Leo did not come up.)

Interpretation: Using sexual metaphors (lesbianism, transvestism) the dream shows people feeling free to be whoever they are. Since these dream characters are aspects of me, this implies that despite the inconvenience or embarrassment it may cause, I feel free to be me. I'm ready to marry an important part of myself, and it's cool.

At the same time, I'm not sure who the writer (artist) is. I stumble over his name and don't know what to call him. As a dream character Tolstoy is a wise old man. He watches. He understands; nothing fazes him. Being someone from the past, he might represent a wise, accepting parent, but not one that I can recognize.

Crossing My T's and Dotting My I's

The Dream: At a T junction a toddler breaks away from the group she's with and runs into the street. I am closest to the infant so I step into the street holding up my hand to stop the flow of cars. As I go after the baby I feel partially paralyzed: either because I'm concerned that I'll get hit by a car or because I can't move as fast as I think I should. In any case it's fast enough. I pick up the baby, who is safe, and return her to her parents who, I think, should have been watching over her more carefully.

Interpretation: As recent difficult life transitions visit my children in waking life I struggle with feelings of motherly inadequacy. Am I doing enough to save them? Are they okay on their own? The dream says I could have done more (moved faster to avert a looming problem) but it also says I've done enough. The baby is safe.

The Inner Necessity

Sometimes it seems our biggest conflicts are with ourselves. By making us aware of these inner battles a dream can help us resolve them.

The Dream: A group of women are sitting in a configuration that resembles half a horseshoe. I sit near the bottom of the “U.” A woman sitting near the door wants to be an actress. I suggest that if she wants to get a part she go to the audition in character, in other words, play the part she is trying out for. She is very offended by my suggestion that she do something she sees as not true to herself. I react to her being offended by thinking that she’s stupid. Here I’ve come up with a practical and workable solution to her problem and she won’t do it.

Interpretation: This dream is about authenticity; two parts of my psyche are in conflict: the practical and the idealistic. The dream ego (the “I” in the dream) sits near the bottom of this inverted bell curve (the U shape of the horseshoe). Things are upside down here, not normal—even the bell curve is upside down. This might be a suggestion that I see “you” (U), in other words, forces outside myself, as being in charge. A part of me—the woman sitting near the door (the “she” in the dream), wants to be an actress (play a different role). Her proximity to the door tells me that she thinks that if she could play this role she could escape the situation she currently finds herself in. The dream ego suggests she go for it: play the part she wants. While she finds this offensive, and in some way not true to herself, the dream ego thinks that she is stopping herself from being what she wants to be in a willful and stupid way. This internal conflict is a pretty strong hint that I need to look at what I’m doing and what I want to be doing and see if I need to make some adjustments.

Performance

The Dream: I’m part of a group that performs, and some of us die during the course of my dream. The man I am engaged to spends a lot of time with the leading lady, who is very pretty and well aware of it: arrogant and exclusive. I am wandering about in the morning among sleeping bags looking for my fiancé. He is with this other woman; they have slept side-by-side. Later I see them holding hands and I think, “He doesn’t hold my hand.” I go up to them. I place my hand on his arm and say, “It’s over.”

Interpretation: During the course of my life I’ve performed many roles, and some of these are no longer desirable. In that sense, they’re dead. In my psyche, an important part of me (my fiancé) is very attracted (she’s pretty) to some negative qualities: exclusivity and arrogance. These two live beneath my conscious comprehension (in sleeping bags), but as I wander close to them, daylight (morning) signals a dawning awareness. I begin to see I’ve cheated myself by my engagement with these traits, and that I can reject them. (It’s over.)

Time for My Own Vision

The Dream: I am subletting an artist friend’s apartment. The main room is square, and I’m very busy preparing food for a large group. A lot of clean-up work is generated. Some guests offer to help but I tell them not to; they have to go to work tomorrow and will need to get up early, whereas I can sleep late. Nevertheless I’m not happy being stuck with all this clean-up by myself.

A very large computer with many components is in the middle of the kitchen. It has a giant screen, of amazing clarity, on a moveable arm. I imagine watching movies on it. But the system is too big, and when we move it out of the kitchen the room is much nicer.

In the course of our rearrangement I discover an image that takes up most of one wall. It’s made of red clay, like the walls of a cave. In its center is a thick, waterfall-like seepage.  To the right is a recessed area: at first I think I’m seeing into outer space, as if the recess is a window into the universe. Later I’m not sure: it’s ambiguous. Am I looking at something near or far?

Interpretation: This dream further develops the theme of Relieved of Duty. In that dream I was determined to do a boring and impossible task, and in this dream I jump in to be helpful at a boring task and then feel taken advantage of. The computer (the rational mind) in the middle of the kitchen (a place where transformation takes place) needs to be moved before a more personal, deeper (cave-like) image can be revealed. While the rational mind shows us a very clear picture (its screen has amazing clarity), it’s also impersonal and external, like a movie I’m watching. The more personal image is only revealed once we get this contraption out of the way. The ambiguity of seeing something near and far at the same time tells me that what is “out there” is at the same time “in here.”

My Inner Light

The Dream: I’m on a playground. A group of girls are playing basketball. At first I am accepted, but things change, and I am excluded. I don’t have anyone to practice with: their skills improve as mine deteriorate.

There is a girl with very bright blond bobbed hair. She is graceful and athletic, like a goddess in her charisma. She used to be my best friend, but now prefers another. I am upset and jealous, but then I wonder if the blond girl is a lesbian. Would I have been expected to accept a lover-relationship had we remained close friends? Her new girlfriend is very petite with should-length dark hair.

Interpretation: In the previous dream I failed to take the challenge my unconscious offered. Now I see the result: If I avoid the struggle I lose capability. We can’t stand still in this world. If we try, we fall into what Jung calls “undeveloped persistence.”

My inner goddess (the bright-haired girl), who should be leading me forward, deserts me. This representative of my inner light wants more love and devotion than I can muster at the moment. The part of me that is in touch with this inner light (the new girlfriend) is still tiny (very petite).

Shifting

The Dream: A bridge. I am aware of part of it, which looks like part of a square. It has a rail on one side and is open on the other, and there is dark gray water underneath, far below. I’m afraid when I look down on the unprotected side, so I avert my eyes in order to have the courage to proceed. I am with a small group; we are filing across. We only see the section of the bridge I’ve illustrated.

Interpretation: Jeremy Taylor says that a bridge in a dream represents the difficult but doable task of living with unresolved paradox. The greatest paradox we live with is the knowledge that being (life) is bounded by non-being (death). I see this dream as part of a series building upon the last two dreams: here I explore what really frightens me about ill health: its logical conclusion, i.e., death. I am crossing this bridge – or working on my understanding of this irresolvable dilemma -- but even so I am not quite ready to see it: I avert my eyes, in order to have the courage to proceed.

The part of the bridge that I see makes three sides of a square. For Jung, a square or circle signified a complete person, one who has attained consciousness by integrating unconscious material. My square is clearly not complete.

Lots and Lots of Women

Everyone--and everything--in a dream represents some part of the dreamer.

The Dream: The only thing I remember of this dream is that it was populated by a large group of women. This theme—many women—seems to be a recurrent one in dreams that don’t come back in any sort of detail when I awaken.

Interpretation: These women represent parts of me that I’m not conscious of. I need to give them some space and get to know them.

The Ubiquitous Toilet Dream

Okay, dear reader, I think we know each other well enough by now that I can post something that reeks of the indelicate: a toilet dream. Sooner or later, I’ve heard, we all have one. This example shows how dreams can help us flush no longer relevant feelings.

The Dream: I’m with a group exiting a building when I realize I have to go to the toilet. We’re starting off on a journey, but I think I can slip away and rejoin the group before departure.

I find a ladies room nearby. The seat is up, and it is already filled with urine and toilet paper. Being in a hurry I add mine to the batch. I don’t think the overloaded toilet can flush. I’m surprised when the receptacle, which now appears over-sized, empties with a great whoosh of running water. I am relieved that it flushed.

Interpretation: Urine can stand for emotions that need to be expressed. Clearly, I’m overloaded with them. But the unconscious, which through dreams helps us purge useless emotional detritus, helps me out by supplying a great cleansing whoosh. My reaction (I’m relieved) tells me the dream process has done its work.

The Tangled Forest

Your dreams work on several different levels at the same time. While a dream might comment on a current problem, it also might—at the same time—hint that this current problem is part of a deeper pattern.

The Dream: I’m with a group of people in a classroom setting. We are about to leave on a field trip to a museum. I get separated from the group. I see a very long queue for a packed bus and look in vain for my classmates. I don’t see any, but nevertheless decide this is the right bus. In desperation not to be left behind I want to squeeze in at the head of the queue, but then notice the inside of the bus has lots of space.

I get on the bus which pulls away before I realize my group is not on the vehicle, and I’m heading I know not where. I pull the bell to get off. I doesn’t “ding” so I keep pulling, feeling the panic of speeding off in the wrong direction. The bus stops in a desolate area. My plan is to cross the street and take the bus back in the other direction. I think I am on a footpath, but soon realize I’m in the middle of traffic. I dodge the on-coming cars and make it to the opposite side of the street where I find myself in a park.

The park is covered in snow, but it is artificial snow. It has a grayish cast and an odd grainy yet slick quality. I rub it between my fingers. It is very cold. I wander through this snow-covered landscape for a while, and then come to a wooded and brambly area where the snow abruptly stops. I don’t think I can get through the tangled forest. I turn around and head back for the road.

Interpretation: I had this dream after taking an art class with an artist whose work and aims were very different from my own. Trying to assimilate what I admired about the artist’s technique while not rejecting my own style created a conflict—and this conflict pointed to a deeper issue that needed to be resolved.
At the time of the dream I was working on a piece using the art instructor’s techniques. Many images in the dream tell me not to follow the “collective” path: that is, the path of engaging in an art based on someone else’s standards, or—by expansion—to live a life based on someone else’s expectations and ideals. In the final dream image, after separating from the group but still going in the wrong direction, I find myself stuck (“park”ed) and facing an insurmountable obstacle. The dream is telling me I got into this position because I wasn’t ready to go look at some old stuff (in the museum).

Abducted by Aliens:The Chosen

         
Not to be outdone by my brother (see yesterday’s blog), I also have an encounter with aliens—but mine ends in a party instead of a fight. You can probably put that down to the difference between boys and girls. (Oops, I think I’d better duck!)

The Dream: I’m wandering around the streets of NYC on a bright sunny day, preparing for a move by loading things into a big open cart placed near the curb. Mother is helping. I’m in a residential part of the city, with tall apartment buildings and wide streets, somewhere on the upper West side.

In the next scene a group of us (we’re young adults or teenagers) have been abducted by aliens. This is a sort of privilege; we don’t understand much about what’s going on but we know we’ll be informed as events unfold. We know a party is being planned; our group will meet with other similar groups in a “mixer.” The entire group is attractive and smart: the chosen.

Interpretation: Clearly, I’m ready for some sort of large change (a move). The street symbolizes my path in life. The change is probably some sort of spiritual move since my possessions (worldly goods) are being “curbed.” West can be a symbol for the unconscious, and upper a symbol for consciousness. So the upper West side suggests some unconscious material is integrating into my conscious awareness.
As in my brother’s dream, the aliens stand in for parts of me that I find, well, alien. Since we use only a very small part of our potential brainpower, it stands to reason that quite a bit of what’s going on within us is alien. The dream tells me that getting to know these aliens within is a good thing. Let’s party!

Costumed Women

When you look at the content of your dreams, you'll often notice they reveal feelings you’re unaware of.  That was the case for me with this one.

The Dream: I’m at a meeting of a women’s group. All the women are dressed in the same silly costume, something like a clown. I think it’s amusing and take a picture for the newsletter.

Interpretation: To belong to a group I have to merge my identity with others, symbolized here by our all being dressed the same. I don’t care for this: I think it’s silly—but also amusing. Even as I question the validity of the group I am furthering its aims—being a good group member—by taking a picture for the newsletter. This is a metaphor for the compromises we make to be members of society.