A Party for Emily

Sometimes dream events seems downright mysterious. A friend and I appeared to communicate through our dreams the night after I posted The Unmade Bed . Each of us “sees” a part of the other's psyche in a surprising way.
The Dream: I am at Emily's house. A group of her friends are preparing a party for her, scurrying around. Emily suggests to me that we go outside. When we were inside the house it was raining, but we know that when we go outside the sun will shine.

While I am glad to have an excuse to get out of helping with the party prep, at the same time I feel guilty about leaving the work to others. I look over at the rest of the group, and I can sense that they want me to take Emily outside so they can surprise her. This is a relief. I get to do what I want to do with no discomfort.

As we start to head outside, Emily offers me slippers. She puts a couple of pairs before me so I can choose. One pair is much too big, and other is only slightly too big.

Interpretation: Emily has been a frequent contributor to this blog; over the years she has shared many valuable insights about dreams via the comment section. The interesting thing here is that just as I was dreaming that Emily was so loved that a group was preparing a surprise party for her, she was dreaming about feeling alone and unloved. At the same time Emily's comments took The Unmade Bed in a spiritual direction, an interpretation I had not thought of.  In today's dream, which I had before I read her comments, together we walk out into the light (the spiritual realm or consciousness) after a stint of being in the unconscious (the dream world, symbolized by the rain).

Emily gives me the shoes I need for my spiritual journey (the slippers) even if it's clear I still need to grow into them. And my dream helps her to realize that she is surrounded by love in the here and now.

Mother is Tired

The Dream: I'm in a house like the one I grew up in. My mother is there, as are a lot of family members. There's lots of chaos and activity. Mother and I are happy to be with everyone, but also tired from the strain of entertaining. Trying to keep the house in order with so many people carelessly putting their stuff everywhere has worn us out. When everyone leaves mother and I chat about not wanting to be the mother anymore. We're tired. There's too much to clean up after the party.

Interpretation: The dream was probably triggered by my anxiety over a large home improvement project and my desperate attempt to keep the house and garden in order during the process. I'm not happy with being “mother.” The dream points out that we, my introjected mother and I, see our role mostly in terms of the onerous responsibility to clean up after others. “Mother” generally refers to the entire feminine role of nurturing as well as house keeping, but our fatigue is specifically caused by the chore aspect of the role. The party is fun; the people are loved and respected; it's the dull cleaning up and trying to keep the space under control that's the problem. The dream is telling me to pay more attention to the people and the party and less to keeping order.

A Friendly Oppressor

The Dream: I'm at a large dinner party. My older brother is sitting at the table, about three-quarters of the way down from me. I'm near, or at, one of the heads. I am crying because my other brother has died. A young woman, a friend, sits on my lap. At first I think this is a joke, but after a while I realize there are no other seats and she means to stay. This begins to feel oppressive.

Interpretation: I don't have the inner resources to take care of a need (there are not enough seats for all at the table). I only have my head (logic). Yet feeling cannot be denied, and I am crying. My brother's death, and the realization that I am three-quarters through my own life, is the oppressive thing that sits on me and won't go away. It's no joke. Yet my oppressor is friendly, why is that? Because she is there to teach me an important lesson, to make me aware that death is a reality I shouldn't run from, but must accept.

Can't Hit Them When They're Down

The Dream: My friend Martha has let me know, without directly saying so, that she is very angry with her husband George who suffers from a debilitating disease. It's an anger too deep for words, and she expresses it by holding a baseball bat in one hand and tapping it against the other.

I'm in the house; my mother is with me, as are others. It's a party of sorts. I have a drink, and my mother makes a “joke” about not saying anything about my reaching for a drink for fear I'd whack her with a baseball bat.

Martha and George show up. Martha is seething at George. I tell her the comment my mother made, thinking it's a hilarious joke. Martha talks about anger toward the ill and helpless, pointing out that it is very difficult to express. At this point she is so angry at George that I wonder if she will leave him, and part of me would be happy to see her free of him and all the obligation that caring for him entails.

Interpretation: At first I thought this dream was about unexpressed anger toward my husband, but when I asked myself who in my life had been ill for a very long time—and who did I resent because I couldn't express this anger and frustration—I came up with a very different answer. I couldn't leave my ill mother or mother-in-law (be free of their needs and influence) while they lived, but the dream points out that it's okay to be relieved to be free from those obligations now.

The Thief

The Dream: I see a man entering apartments in an old building that closely resembles an apartment building I once lived in. He has a rectangular device somewhat bigger than a cell phone that he puts up to a locked door, and it opens immediately. I am surprised at how easy this is. I watch him open a couple of apartments this way. Then he comes to the apartment where my friends / family are having a party. As he attempts to enter I grab him, unsure about whether or not I'll be able to overcome him. I yell to the others to “Call 911!” They come to my aid, and we subdue him.

Interpretation: The phrase that came to my mind when I thought about this dream was the “thief of time.” Is the cell phone an “I” phone? Am I unlocking some old doors, and having a difficult time with what I find? The setting is dark and gloomy, the badly lit stairwell and hall of an old tenement something like my mother's Brooklyn apartment and my own apartment on 90th street in Manhattan. The intruder, Time, has gone into these places where family and friends once lived and stolen them, leaving me calling for help. Life goes on; with the help of other friends I subdue this thief, at least for a while.

Taking In Something Valuable

The Dream: I’m at a large gathering, which goes on for days. I am looking at some beautiful old architectural drawings that someone threw out and someone else has retrieved. In the mix are lovely old pamphlets. I think these might be valuable and wonder how they would be priced by The Antiques Road Show. I am glad these things were rescued and surprised anyone would want to throw them away. The architectural drawings are of a beautiful old brick house, two stories.

The party goes on and on and I find I’m very tired. People take this as an indication that I don’t like them, and I try to explain. “No. I’m only tired. I’m an introvert and all this activity wears me out. I just want to go read a book.”

Interpretation: The old things that have been rescued tell me that I’ve made peace with my past, discovering things of value there that deserve appreciation. The old architecture (the person I was) has been retrieved. Once I’ve rediscovered these valuable but once rejected parts of myself I take them in (introvert) and look for some solitude in which I can study (read a book) the new things I’ve learned.

Goosed Girl

Is my inner trickster telling me to open my eyes? Wake up?

The Dream: A man and I are at a party. A tall woman in a champagne-colored, draped-front shift stands next to us. The man pinches her bottom, then stands there looking angelic so she won’t think he did it. After he does this a couple of times I go sit by myself on some stairs, afraid the woman might think I’m the one pinching her.

A little later the woman comes over to me. The man has convinced her that I am the one who pinched her, and she's angry. I sputter my surprise and innocence.

Interpretation: This is what’s called a trickster dream, dreams in which a badly-behaved person gets the better of the dream ego. There’s an interesting pun here, since pinching is said to be a test of whether or not we’re dreaming. (For example, “When I heard I won the Lottery I pinched myself.”)  Since we are the entire cast of our dreams, in this dream I’m literally dreaming, I’m getting pinched, and I’m pinching myself. I think my inner trickster was feeling playful. The dream made me laugh, and if it has a deeper meaning I don’t know what it is.

Relieved of Duty

The Dream: I have a very unglamorous job, something like cleaning up after a party. It requires being in two places at once. This seems impossible, but for some reason I want to do it. There’s a man in charge of the project who finally determines that I am not the person for this job. He’s a nice fellow, practical and pleasant. He asks me how I feel about being let go, and I say that I’m disappointed, but also relieved.

Interpretation: I hope this dream is showing some progress toward resolving a bad habit: I often take on things I really don’t want to do—or at any rate have mixed feelings about--and then slavishly do them par excellence. The dream shows me that being free of this sort of work is not a bad thing.

Intruders

The Dream: I am returning home in the evening with the family. We are walking along the sidewalk to our townhouse that opens onto the street. As we approach our door I notice a window ajar. I point this out to the others, feeling clever that I have noticed. “I didn’t leave the window that way,” I say. I walk up a step or two and push the front door, which opens at my touch. In the dim interior light I see a young man scrambling into his clothes; we’ve apparently caught him in flagrante delicto: but what is the crime? Not really caring whether he is using my home for a sexual encounter, as it appears, or whether he’s come to steal, I am frightened and angry. “Call the cops,” he suggests. I am so frightened that I have trouble deciding which phone to use—cell or land line—and can’t find either. Somehow I manage to make the call, telling the cops a burglary is in progress. Then I wonder who else is in the house. There must be a girl, I think, since it seems we’ve caught the fellow having sex. “Did they use my bed?” I wonder, feeling grossed out.

Alone

The Dream: I am happily chatting with people at a party. I notice a woman sitting alone and think I should speak with her, although my first impulse is to overlook her.  She is at a small table for two in a cafeteria. She is having trouble with her surroundings: her tray sits askew on the table; the extra seat leans on the table at an awkward angle.

I introduce myself and ask her why she is here. She is youngish, early 30s, and has long straight mousy brown hair and bangs that frame a round, nondescript face. She says she’s been sent “to keep an eye on” this group. I burst out laughing, because the group of “trouble makers” she is monitoring is composed of aging members of Phi Beta Kappa.

Interpretation: The isolated woman, on her own at a cafeteria table, reminds me of school lunch periods when not having someone to eat with was painful. My socially integrated adult confronts the isolated girl of my youth. I attempt to communicate with this awkward creature. Her suspicion of the Phi Beta Kappas tells me I believe my intellect is the reason for my social isolation. 

Note: The notes in blue above on the illustration were gleaned from Tony Crisp’s Dream Dictionary (New York: Dell Publishing, Random House Inc., 2002).

Not Quite Ready

Just because your unconscious points something out doesn’t mean you are entirely ready to accept it. It probably does mean you will be.

The Dream: I’m about to have a party. The house is not ready and I don’t know what to serve.

Interpretation: I’m having trouble entertaining all the unconscious elements that are emerging due to my dream work. The ego (the house) is not prepared for the integration (let’s party!) of these new elements (the guests).

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.

The Visitation

This very long dream has an unusual ending, especially since I’m not religious.

Dream: I am going to a party in a big city, in a car with several other women. We are going over an old-fashioned bridge. Although the road is strewn with logs and other hazards we manage to avoid them.

The party is set in someone’s apartment, a railroad flat with one room leading to the next. There are a lot of people, but I don’t seem to connect with anyone. The lights are turned off in the front room, and only small, dim bulbs are throwing an oblique light from some corridors off the main rooms. An older Asian man, the janitor, lives in one of these corridors. Through a mirror in the front room, before it’s completely dark, I see a reflection of the other side of the apartment which looks out onto an upward space, a rising hill. At this point I realize I am in Berkeley, saying to myself “Isn’t it interesting that there can be such a natural setting, so much open space, in an urbanized place?”

I am wandering about in the very dark front room not having a particularly good time, when one of the people I’ve come with whispers to me that she is leaving. I feel a surge of relief as I realize that I too can leave. I go to find my purse, which had been left in a pile with the purses and jackets of other party-goers in the dark front room. My search is hampered by the fact that it is so dark that I can’t see anything. I feel around, at times thinking I have found my purse and then realizing it’s the wrong one. I begin to get anxious and almost frantic as I search and search with no success. At one point the hostess comes in, a rather smug young woman. She hands me something; at first I think she’s given me my purse, then realize to my disappointment that it isn’t. I tell her this and she says, “Just listen to you, whining away over a missing purse.”

I fume to myself, wondering how there could be a woman on the planet who has no sympathy for the panicky feeling of having lost one’s purse, with driver’s license, credit cards, etc.

I become aware of feeling very sleepy. I walk through the apartment to its other end and go out on the deck. The area is filled with smoke from cannabis. All the party goers are here, and it is crowded and lively. I marvel that they can smoke pot so openly with no worries about reprisals; then I remember we are in Berkeley, and freedom prevails.

I look at the sky, and it’s filled with stars, brilliant and jewel-like. I gasp at the loveliness, and then return to the front room to resume the search for my purse.

I am so tired that I stretch out and fall asleep, thinking as I drift off that my friend must have left by now.I am lying on my back, asleep. I feel a gentle touch about my shoulders and face. Someone has put her hands over my eyes, as a child might do before saying “Guess who?” At first I think the person has said something like, “I am Jesus Christ, come to give you a prophecy.” Then I become aware that the touch is my mother’s, and I very strongly feel her presence although I can’t see her (she is behind my head). At this point I think she is saying something like, “Through the intercession of Jesus Christ I am here to see you.” I am aware she died several years ago yet her presence is so palpable it startles me awake.

Interpretation: I won’t attempt to interpret this one, except to point out some interesting symbols.
Bridge: A halfway station between one reality and another; enables the traveler to cross over
Road: my path to the place where the visitation takes place is strewn with obstacles
References to darkness: I’m in the dark about something. I don’t see directly but through a mirror (“through a mirror darkly”)
Janitor: original meaning: guardian of doors
Purse: my sense of identity
Cannabis: something that can cause a slip into the irrational
The brilliant sky:  another realm
Christ: a symbol of the union of man with the divine

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!