A Friend Likes What I'm Building

When people you know appear in your dream, think of their most dominant quality and ask yourself if they might be representing the part of you that shares that trait. You'll see that question and answer play out in the following dream.
The Dream: A friend pulls something I've discarded out of the trash from my studio. On one side is a splash of paint, a color test. On the other is a drawing of a building. My friend likes the drawing of the building very much, and I tell her that I did it. She smiles and puts it into her purse.

Interpretation: This particular friend is very critical, and so I tried out the idea that she represents my own inner critic. But she likes my building (the thing I'm building, or creating). She shows this by putting my work into her purse, a place where valuable things are kept. That can only mean that my own inner critic is satisfied with the direction I've taken. This dream, like the last one I posted, point to the fact that I'm on the right track, despite my conscious confusion and misgivings.

Guest Dreamer: Where Do I Belong?

This dream was contributed by a woman going through a divorce after close to 30 years of marriage.
The Dream: I was jolted awake by a dream, imagine that! I was on a bus and couldn't remember my address. I went through my purse and nothing in it told me where I lived. I looked up what it might mean....loss of direction in life, loss of goals, identity? What do you think?

Interpretation: Dreams are rooted in what's going on in the dreamer's life and tend to be triggered by a waking life event that occurred in the last few days. Naturally you are the most knowledgeable on that topic. Did anything happen recently that created a feeling of not knowing where you belong?

While triggered by a recent event, a dream is also a reaction to your life situation. Dreams come to tell us things we don't consciously know. Let's take a look at some of the details. A bus is a communal conveyance and so can represent our social self, the part that goes along with the direction of the larger group we belong to. When in a bus we aren't driving, but are being driven. Putting myself into your dream, and into your life situation (in terms of your divorce), I see myself losing the aspect of my identity that is socially defined: that of a married woman. The purse I'm looking into would be expected to hold valuables and ID cards, but there is nothing in this bag to tell me where I live--because I no longer live in this particular social identity. The dream came to help me make the transition to a new single identity, and perhaps to make me aware that I do miss the social status of my marriage, even though I'm happy to be out of a draining and unhappy situation.

Guest Dreamer: The Game with the Strange Object

By the end of this dream the dreamer is a new woman. Today's guest dreamer is Kayla, who has started her own dream website that aims to connect readers to dream resources. As usual with guest dreamer posts, I will respond to Kayla's dream as if it were my own.

The Dream: I was in a crowded, but open space, like a gymnasium. I entered the space, where long foldable tables were set up in rows. I spotted my friend M, who works as a psychologist, at one of the tables. Individuals were milling around, talking, there was general buzz of conversation in the air. I noticed that people were taking places at the tables, so I hurried to get a place next to my friend M. I joined her by going under the table, as I wanted to hurry and get a spot. Because the tables were situated in long rows, I would have had to walk all the way around. I took a spot to her right and noticed that on the table, various objects were arranged. Sort of like a big yard sale, except they were not piled on top of each other, but arranged a certain number to each table, one in front of each place.

I noticed there were shoes, handbags and various other objects. I was looking at the table when a voice came over the loud speaker. I did not know what I was supposed to do, and I do not remember the words, but I noticed that when the voice came on, individuals all reached to grab or claim one item on the table. So, I reached to the right and claimed a strange object. It was a ring of printed cardboard or maybe thin plastic, that had some sort of print on it - and then there were paper/cardboard/thin plastic little people and objects that went with it. The cardboard ring was supposed to be a stylized world / globe, and the paper people/objects could be moved on different places on it - maybe with velcro? It was some sort of decoration and I thought I might put it on the refrigerator. The people/objects were stylized like the old fashioned pen and ink drawings / etchings (I am not sure exactly how the prints were created). See picture.

I remember the largest piece was a woman who was printed in this old-fashioned wood block print. I realized that the "game" was essentially this: everyone took his/her place at the table, the cue was given, everybody rushed to claim the object he/she wanted on the table, and then they took the object over to the cash register to pay for it. I felt pleased with the object I had gotten, even though it was chance I had gotten it, as I realized the rules of the game too late and had to grab what was left. I liked it, though, and went towards the line at the other side of the gymnasium to pay for it.

Carla's thoughts: The gym is a venue for activities that require practice: I am working to perfect a skill. The tables (Has something been tabled, i.e., stifled?) have aspects of a barrier: they are set up in rows, and I would have a difficult time getting around them. Yet the tables can be folded, which hints that the barrier they represent contains its own solution. In order to understand the significance of my friend M, the one I'm eager to be near, I have to think about her qualities so I can figure out what part of me she stands for in my dream. Since I want to be close to her, these are the qualities I want to encourage in myself. I join this friend by going under the table. Is there something shady about my action, for example, as in the expression “doing business under the table” to avoid paying tax? Does my under-the-table dive reflect my desire to take short-cuts in order to avoid the taxing effort that attaining my skills in the gymnasium requires? When I take my place on M's right I signal my willingness to allow this issue to come to the conscious level. 

Yard sales are generally held to get rid of items that are no longer useful. In my dream I've put these things into an organized framework where I can take a look at them. Shoes (walk a mile in my shoes) can represent my situation, and handbags, the holders of credit cards and I.D.'s, are closely linked to my sense of identity. I have tabled aspects of myself, and, as I contemplate my own complexity there's a free-for-all as I reclaim the parts I want to keep. I reach to the right, bringing a new realization to consciousness. I'm not used to it yet, so it seems strange at first. I see a globe and the people on it. There is an artificiality about this world. It's cardboard (not too substantial) or plastic (phony?) and the people are not truly a part of it; they are only attached with velcro. They aren't completely fleshed out: they lack color, and they are rendered in an old-fashioned style. This world and the people in it represent a part of my life that I have outgrown.

The largest piece to claim my attention is a woman. I haven't been willing to acknowledge her previously. (She's a wood block print.) The new woman that I am has emerged from the small out-dated world I once inhabited. I have grown, I now understand the “game.” I am pleased with my new ability to decipher the rules. I'm no longer going under the table to avoid paying what I should. I cross the gymnasium (the place where I've acquired my skill), and I accept responsibility for the new woman I am. (I'm willing to pay for it.)

Bird in the Hand

The Dream: I'm near a train station in the suburbs when I see something under a chair: it looks like a bird entangled in one of the chair legs. I can't tell if its a real bird or a stuffed toy. In some way the thing is off-putting and part of me wants to leave it where it is—but another part is intrigued.

I touch its soft fluffy feathers and realize it's a small purse in the shape of a bird atop a round bag. I am not sure what to do with this—whether to keep it or try to return it. I look inside and see a collection of children's silverware, little forks and spoons in a pattern very similar to my mother's silver. Suddenly I feel a desire, so strong it's physical, to keep this bag and its contents.

I go through the bag, struggling with myself. As I look at the things inside I realize it's a gift for a new mother. Besides the children's silverware, there's a CD that teaches relaxation techniques. I find a turquoise blue card with a name and address. Now that I have the name of the rightful owner I have a new quandary: clearly I should return these things, but is this the name of the sender or the recipient? If it's the recipient and I call, I will ruin the surprise. Once I decide the name and address most likely belong to the gift giver I attempt to make the call, but then I'm not sure I can make out the phone number.

Interpretation: I'm repulsed and attracted by something that I don't want to look at—but once I do I don't want to let it go. The dream is full of conflict. The object is a bird, an ancient symbol of spirit, yet it is also a purse, something that stores earthly treasure. The treasure it contains is associated with both the mother—it's her silver pattern—and the child (the child-sized utensils). Even the turquoise (blue-green) card points in two ways: blue for sadness, green for new growth. The dream is telling me that I'll achieve some new growth once I face my sadness. The mother / child symbols point to this sadness being connected to my inner child trying to come to terms with the loss of her mother. Having seen inside the bag (gained some knowledge of my inner workings through carefully observing my dreams) I very much want to hold on to what I've learned, and yet I feel anxious about my ability to do so (I can't make the call).

No Light at the End of the Tunnel

The Dream: Dettie and I are at the underground entrance to a NYC subway. She has a token and goes through the turnstile and down the escalator to the platform. I realize I have no money. I set down my large purse, at the same time noticing a lost-and-found-box containing cash and other items that people have left on the train, open to all with no oversight. I think, after a little ethical quavering, that it's probably okay if I “borrow” some of the money to buy a token. I feel a little guilty, but climb up to the box—it's a bit of a stretch—and help myself to a small amount of cash. In some part of my mind I am surprised that the money hasn't all disappeared.

I take the money to the ticket booths; the one to the left is closed, and the agent in the middle booth ignores me. I'm getting anxious about finding Dettie with all this delay. Then I notice an available agent to the right: I had 't been aware of him. He is a very affable black man and while I don't have enough money for a return, he sells me a one-way token.

As I approach the turnstile I realize my bag is missing. I feel very uneasy about this, thinking about my credit cards and how I should have made a list of them. I try to remember which membership cards were in my purse. This will be a mess to sort out; I hope Clark can help me.

I descend the escalator and my surroundings become darker and darker. When I reach the platform I look for Dettie, but she's nowhere to be seen. I had been counting on her to loan me money for the return trip. The platform is deserted, very dark, and no trains appear to be running. After a while I decide to try a different level, thinking I must be on the wrong track. I turn to go, and things become even darker until it's pitch black. I become frightened and decide to go back up.

I climb a long flight of stairs. At the top is a closed door with a window. The door is locked. I bang and bang on it, yelling “Help!” until I'm afraid my voice will go. A man appears—I see his face silhouetted against the door's window. He has a mustache and looks creepy, like something out of a surrealist's work. I think that if he opens the door it will be to rape me, not to help. I awaken in terror.

Interpretation: Jung warns us that encountering the unconscious is a fearsome project, and this dream verifies it. My friend's name is the key to this dream: “Dettie” evokes both death and debt. As I begin my descent into the underworld of the unconscious I grapple with feeling inadequate: I have no money (worth), but I might be able to retrieve some if I'm willing to take a chance and reach higher. It's interesting that I have an ethical difficulty in giving myself what I need: I don't feel entitled to take it. But even when I do my problems are not over. I have enough money to embark on my journey, but not enough to return. I lose my purse with its membership and credit cards (I'm totally alone; I'll get no credit in the future). I call on my animus to save the situation, but the male figure who appears is another threat, not a savior. I go lower and lower, facing my darkest fears: my vulnerability, my worthlessness and my mortality. My vision is so narrow (tunnel like) that I can't see a way out.

Taxi

The Dream: I'm in a taxi with my mother. The driver is a very sweet and intelligent older man,who I assume is working beneath his station. He's very patient and chatty, friendly. I think he has this job as a way of meeting people. At some point I realize I've lost something and search frantically through my purse.

Interpretation: I'm with my mother in this dream, and the taxi driver stands in for my feeling that she worked “beneath her station.” In other words, I felt my mother never had a chance to demonstrate her many talents and abilities in the larger world. And perhaps she did “drive” her children as a compensation for her own frustrated ambition. The driver's patience, chattiness, and friendliness line up with some of her other traits: she drove us in the nicest possible way. With her death I lost her, and the sense of purpose she instilled might be the thing I am frantically searching for.

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