The Messenger

One reason it's a good idea to illustrate your dreams is that the illustration itself will elaborate on your unconscious process. Don't think about the illustration too much as you do it; follow the dictates of your unconscious. Once you've created your illustration--a doodle, a mandala, a collage, whatever you feel like--look at the shapes and colors for more information. 

The Dream: I am in a Victorian house, standing in its large, high-ceiling entry. The bell rings, and through the door's frosted glass I see a messenger holding a fat manila envelope. I open the door to take it. I think he's going to leave, but instead he pounds on the door, cracking it, and then extends one hand through the hole he's made. At first I think he's about to give me “the finger.” Instead, he grabs me, forcing himself in. As he attacks me I scream for Clark. I know he's not in the house, but I'm hoping that if the intruder thinks he is he will be frightened off. I awaken in terror.

Interpretation: This dreadful dream ushered in my birthday. I'm being giving a message in a very forceful way. Will I get it? The frosted glass hints at my lack of clarity. The “finger” reminded me of these lines from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

My conscious awareness, here represented by Clark, is not at home. The dream is pointing to something deeply unsettling that's important for me to grasp. The timing, on my birthday eve, tells me this issue is a matter of “life or death”-- metaphorically—for me: I must come to terms with my mortality. The colors I unconsciously chose to illustrate the dream tell me where I am in my acceptance of my inevitable death. I'm in a gray and black space (not happy with the idea), but the messenger and his space are green, the color of growth. At some point I'll be able to accept my part in the cycle of life.

Guest Dreamer: Rebecca: In Your Face

The Dream: I had been told that there were a bunch of horses in England. So much so that the smell of them penetrated the air. That fact didn’t bother me, and I wanted to go anyway. I ended up over there, and was with two horses in a pasture, eating from the same stack of hay. The face of the horse on the left (when looking from the front) was about twice the size, maybe could be a little more, of a regular horse. (The horse was regular size, but I’m thinking the face was that size to make a point, which I knew this while dreaming.) As the horses started eating, the horse on the left started getting after the other, so it could eat the hay by itself. This didn’t bother the other horse. As the horse on the left would nudge, I would tell it (don’t know the sex) to share. After saying this a couple times, the horse calmed down.

Carla's thoughts: As usual, I'll interpret Rebecca's dream as if it were my own. She will be the judge of whether or not my thoughts are relevant for her, and I hope she'll let us know how she sees her dream.

For me, horses are symbolic of my instincts or drives, my inner animal. Tony Crisp points out that the drives a horse symbolizes are those “that have to some extent become 'tamed' or directed.” Smell, our most basic sense, tells me that I'm dealing with something primitive, and the fact that these horses are in a foreign county says that I might be encountering something new, unfamiliar, or “foreign” in my life. In any case, the core feelings that smell represents are so strong that their odor has penetrated the air; you could say that these feelings have created an atmosphere!

The foreign land holding my horses (Hold your horses!) is England. What associations do I have with England or the British people, and how might this influence my dream's meaning? The British are known for their “stiff upper lip,” for being strong in the face of adversity and deprivation, for tolerating these without complaint and, in general, for behaving properly. Have my feelings, my drives, my instincts, been shipped over to this land to be tightly controlled?

I am becoming conscious that I have acquiesced to social pressure to “behave.” The left symbolizes feelings and instincts, again emphasizing their importance in this dream. The left horse's face has enlarged. A part of my instinctive energy or libido or desire has become a large thing for me to face. The left horse demands a bigger share of what it likes, the thing that nourishes it (its food). I intervene to stop this part of myself from taking what it wants. Interestingly, the “greedy” behavior doesn't bother the second horse, the one that I felt was being deprived. The right horse doesn't seem to mind the left horse getting something extra, but a part of me is not comfortable with it. I, as the dream ego, keep trying to get my left horse to behave, and it finally gives in to my repeated demands. The dream is telling me that I am too quick to intervene to stop my desires, and that they are not hurting anyone. I think my dream wants me to relax and enjoy life.

Guest Dreamer: My Next Step

This guest dream from Tyler starts a sequence of shoe dreams. Over the next two weeks there will be 3 guest dreams from two different dreamers featuring this theme.

Tyler's Dream: The first dream I remember was a couple of nights ago - the first time I've remembered a dream in a long time. I remember I was sitting on the ground with one shoe on my right foot and my left foot was bare because there was something sticking out of the top of my foot - not the bottom like it was a root. I remember very vividly seeing nearly all of my bones in my left foot and this stick-like thing protruding from inside my foot. I was trying to pull it out, carefully and slowly so that I didn't make the entry wound larger. After fussing with it for what seemed like an extremely long time, the stick, or object broke in half so that it wasn't sticking out of my foot anymore, but I could still see it lodged inside of my foot. Some reason or another, I had a pair of tweezers or pliers or something like that and I began using it to remove the rest of the object. After what felt like another extremely long length of time, I had removed some pieces of the object and I had given up. I don't remember any of the rest of my surroundings or anything, but there may or may not have been someone who had come by to "check on me" or see if I was okay or something, but they did not rest for long.

Carla's thoughts: Tyler asked me this question: “Do certain things have different meanings if they are accompanied by other particular things?” The answer is “yes.” When we're looking at a dream it's like looking at a poem or a play. Context is everything! I'll try to demonstrate this by the way I work with Tyler's dream, which I'll write about as if it were my own. So here goes:

I'm at a low point. (I'm sitting on the ground.) I'm wearing one shoe on my right foot. The right side is associated with logic, so this tells me that rationally I'm prepared for the next step I need to take, but what about my left side, the one associated with feelings? Emotionally I feel exposed (my left foot is bare). What's worse, something has me stuck (I can't remove the stick). I approach my problem gingerly—I don't want to make my emotional wound even greater. After all, I'm dealing with a bare bones issue (something at my core). Since the bones of our feet support us, that I'm having problems with them tells me that the central issue of this dream is one of my feeling that I'm not getting adequate emotional support for the next step on my life journey.

A few things tell me that some nascent support is in the wings. First, part of the stick has broken: it isn't as large as it used to be. Second, I use a tool (something that extends my innate ability) to begin to get rid of what 's left. And third, there's the person who comes by to check on me; I see this as my emerging ability to support myself. I haven't completely conquered this problem, but I'm closer to getting on my feet.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

This dream exemplifies the importance of looking at a sequence of dreams: it answers the previous nightmare.

The Dream: I'm in a tunnel. There is a long line of traffic going slowly in the left lane. I follow along at first, then become impatient, wondering why I don't go around the other cars. I pull to the right and pass the other cars, coming into daylight.

Interpretation: In the previous dream, I was waiting for a train (on a fixed track) in a very black tunnel. It clearly wasn't going to take me where I needed to go. In this dream I'm in the driver's seat, controlling my own vehicle, and getting around an obstacle. Something unconscious (on the left) has been slowing me down; I pull to the right (the obstacle becomes conscious). I get past the block and see the light.

Trying to Find the Center

Life is an on-going readjustment, as this dream tells me.

The Dream: I am looking at a picture of a skating woman on a Nook; the orientation is landscape. I try to center the scene on the device, moving the drawing from right to left, but I can’t get the picture properly aligned.

Interpretation: Some part of me is skating (on thin ice?) as I go round in circles trying to adjust my psychic “center."  So far I'm not getting the picture.

Talent in a Limited Sphere

The Dream: My friend Mary and I, and a couple of others, are sitting around in an oblong room. Even though we are few in number, performers come through to entertain us. First to appear is a mixed-aged singing troupe, very young children to adult arranged in order of age, youngest to the left. Two singers catch my eye, one an adorable black boy of about five and the other a middle aged brown-haired white woman. Plain but not homely, she looks like a sweet “mother” type from the 50s. She has a lovely voice, but the group as a whole is amateurish. Other performers cycle through and we realize they hope for some sort of success or recognition, but they have a long way to go, and they aren’t getting much exposure performing for us.

Interpretation: This dream juxtaposes the young, expressive, appealing child who has no skill with the boring, not particularly appealing middle-aged woman with surprising talent. Her talent cannot develop in the limited world she inhabits. Perhaps she is past the point where her talent can develop at all. Her dark blue dress and brown hair evoke my mother: am I looking at her limited achievement in the wider world, which I (and she, no doubt) regretted? Did she want me to be “famous” as her avatar? Is this what drives me?

The presence of my friend Mary is a hint that this dream is linked to the last post  Who’s in the driver seat?

Splashing in the Pool

The Dream: My sister Betty is visiting. I am supposed to have some information about her arrival and departure but I can’t find it. I am scurrying about looking for it. Clark finds the data pricked into a piece of tin-foil with a stylus.

We have a swimming pool off the kitchen and Betty is happily splashing about. The pool has been sectioned; only one square part is heated and in use. The rest goes off to the left. There is no division between the kitchen ad the pool. 

Interpretation: I don’t know something about an important part of me (my sister).  Perhaps this part comes and goes (Betty will arrive and depart). I look for this information in an ineffective way, and my animus (Clark) suggests what I’m looking for might be a foil (tin foil) for something else: perhaps something ancient, as hinted by the use of a stylus.

This realization creates a psychic change that is reflected in the fact that my sister now swims happily in my pool (the unconscious). The square section of the pool reflects the integrated part of my personality; there’s more unconscious (unheated) material (the unused section of the pool off to the left). But it’s an encouraging sign that there is no division between the kitchen (a place where transformation takes place) and the pool (the unconscious).

On the Bias

The Dream: I am trying on a skirt, light beige in color, when a sales girl points out a spot near the left hip where the garment pouches out between two stitching lines. “That’s not very flattering,” she says. I smooth out the area, getting it to lie properly. “Thank you for pointing that out,” I say. “It’s because it’s cut on the bias.”

Interpretation: I had been reading an article in the American Scholar in which two writers, one black and one white, frankly discuss racism. I see the beige skirt as symbolizing the combination of brown and white; it isn’t working quite right because of bias (prejudice). I try to smooth out the problem. The dream represents the various parts of my psyche trying to accept each other, working toward integration.

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.

Exposed: Part 3

The Dream: I go into the subway. I order some tokens and need to go to the left of the counter to pick them up. I pick up a pile containing far more than I paid for and wonder if I should return the extras. As in the last dream segment, I decide not to “do the right thing.”

I see my Aunt Mary, dressed as a gypsy, collecting money for the poor. I give her some change but take back one of my tokens that inadvertently fell into her basket. I ask her for the key to her apartment so I can put on some clothes. She gives it to me, saying Uncle Mike will be there.

Interpretation: My unconscious (the subway) is activated to solve the problem put forth in the earlier segments of this dream: what is my role as a woman in today's complex society?  How do I bring together the role of women modeled by my mother and reinforced by my 50s childhood with the enormous societal change realized by the women of my generation? I “go to the left” or, in dream terms, I don’t try to resolve this rationally. Dreams allow –even insist on – paradox. I don’t have to reject my mother’s path to follow my own.  I accept the “tokens” offered by the “left” (unconscious), with its sly suggestion that I am not doing the “right” thing.

I see my aunt (my mother’s sister: that is, my mother) in a new way. (She gets some change.) At the same time I hang on to the “token” of my new self. She gives me the key (her acceptance) to recovering my sense of worth, symbolized by the clothes I will put on in her apartment. And an animus figure, my uncle, will be waiting for me there, signaling that my psyche will be better balanced between feminine and masculine.

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.

Stop!

As in the previous dream, the psyche tells me it’s not ready to move.

The Dream: I want to make more room for my child’s car in the carport of my house. I suggest moving the parking spot to the left to create the necessary space. This seems a simple solution. Later I realize a wall from the house is obstructing the left side, and that moving it would be too expensive and difficult.

Interpretation: The ego can’t move left (toward the unconscious); it’s hit a wall. At this point making room for previously unconscious elements is “too expensive and difficult.”