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.”

It’s Not Going to Work

A further development on the theme of The High Cost of Femininity

The Dream: I am about to be married and I have just met my intended. He is extremely tall: our size relationship is that of an adult (him) to a 3-year-old (me). I look up at him as I might look up a redwood; his head is so very far away. I want to love him, because we are supposed to be getting married, but I realize I can’t. We kiss, and it has none of the passion of my kiss with the clerk in the previous dream, who is much closer to my size.

I am sitting at a table when I realize this marriage can’t go forward. I have a sinking feeling as I say, “This is like an arranged marriage.” I know it’s said one comes to love one’s spouse in these situations, but I don’t see that happening. He looks kind, and he is clearly ready to love me, but I announce—in spite of the social pressure to conform—that I can’t do it.

Interpretation: Can there be love, freely given, when such a disparity exists between would-be lovers? I reject love under these circumstances. I think Bettleheim would see the dream as a resolution of an oedipal conflict, the re-enactment of a young girl’s realization that her father is not an appropriate love object. On another level of meaning there's Jung's archetype of the father symbolizing the collective conscious, in other words, the values of society. Is some part of me rejecting these? Do I find them inapplicable to my life as a woman? That I look up to him as to a redwood implies some anger: I see red, and he's thick as a post.

Menarche

When people from your past visit you in a dream, think about what was going on in your life when you knew them.

The Dream: Mrs. Kirby and a friend have been staying at our house in our absence. When I return I’m surprised to find they’ve left a mess. Their beds are not made. Their rooms have been left with untidy bed clothes and I assume this must be because they know I’m going to wash the sheets. Yet I’m annoyed at their sloppiness. I look around the rooms, and there is clutter everywhere. Soon I realize it’s our clutter and not really their fault. Later I see a reddish brown stain on the rug that has been hidden by putting something over it. “How childish,” I think.

Interpretation: Mrs. Kirby was a friend of my mother’s when I was about twelve. I see this as a positive dream, moving from projecting the “mess” of womanhood and life onto others to the realization the “clutter” belongs to me, and that to attempt to cover it up is childish.

The Willing Sacrifice

This dream has two different levels of meaning, as you’ll find many of your dreams do.
The Dream: I’m giving a large dinner party. I run around distractedly trying to get everything done. The guests are milling about and no one offers to help. I am making no progress, but working very hard. I ask one of the children to set the table; when I take some dishes into the dining room I discover the table is bare. I am angry and frustrated, not particularly at the children, but at everyone attending the party for not pitching in. I am embarrassed and feel the event is out of control.

There is no bread. I thought I had some, but for some reason it can’t be used. A man offers to be the bread. He climbs onto a kitchen table, lies face up, and tells me to slice him. I don’t know where to slice and feel very uncomfortable with the idea, but he is insistent. He wants to help; he assures me he will turn into bread once I begin slicing. I take a knife and make a shallow incision in the area of the abdomen. I see a thin trickle of blood, not deep red like real blood but thin and watered-down looking, orange-red. When I see the blood I cannot continue.

Interpretation: On the day-to-day level, I’ve taken on more than I can handle. (I am making no progress, but working very hard.) Oh, the story of my life! I feel I’m getting nothing back for the effort I put in. I would like some help, but none is forthcoming. Some part of me wants to sacrifice myself to the needs of the group (become the food for the party-goers). Another part can’t do it.

On a deeper level, the willing sacrifice is what Jung calls an archetype, a symbol for something universal to human experience. The connection of sacrifice to bread is ancient and primitive. On this level the unconscious is pointing out the depth of sacrifice demanded of a sentient being who has chosen life on the planet. This profound and willing sacrifice is contrasted to the business (busy-ness) and petty frustrations with which we often fill our lives. The dream prepares me to accept the implications of life.