Making Room for All

Dreams are grounded in your day-to-day life. If you take a look at what you've been up to recently, you'll get some good clues about the meaning of your dream.
The Dream: I'm in a large house, and many young boys are sleeping, dormitory style, in my bedroom. The other bedrooms are full, and a couple has just arrived who need a place. I revisit the sleeping arrangements, and as I do, my bedroom turns into a vast field, with the boys' beds, now chaises longues, lined up against an embankment.  I see I have all the room I need after all, and I suggest that we move the boys' beds back in and put the couple in an area to my right. I a choose a spot near the door for myself in case I want to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. It  seems that this new arrangement makes room for all, with some privacy, and it's comfortable.

Interpretation: I had a lot of activities going on when I had this dream. They were things I was happy about and wanted to do, but how to make room for all? The dream reflects in a simple and graphic way my attempt to fit together many interests, and shows me a solution: I need to do some rearranging. There are a couple of new things (the pair that just arrived) that I need to make room for. I also need to be sure I leave myself a path for release, or self-expression (the bathroom).

The boys (new undertakings that require some care because they aren't fully developed) and the color I unconsciously chose for the drawing (green) hint at the growth my new interests promise.

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.

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.

Original

The Dream: I go outside from a house where I used to live onto a deck with several picnic tables off to the right side. They are populated with sightseers. I am looking for a place to sit and do a drawing. Finally I find an empty place at a table where several other people are sitting. A young round-faced woman sits across from me. She has a black eye (her right eye). She asks what I’m drawing, and I tell her it is a dream drawing. “Oh,” she says, “why don’t you do something original?”
I am surprised. “These are original!” I say.  
I leave the deck, noticing a low utilitarian gate opening onto the driveway that goes to the house.

Interpretation: I seem to be going in circles in this dream. First I’m in the house, then on the deck outside, and then see a path that leads back to the house. Something has me stuck in this house, and whatever it is makes it difficult for me to be original. To figure out what that’s about, I’ll look at the word “original.” Incased in the word is “origin.” Something about this loop is connected to my origins. To do something original means to do something that truly reflects who I am at my most basic—in other words, at my point of origin—where I start (originate) to define my unique self, what Jung calls individuation.
The visual is highly symbolic, as we can tell from the sight-seers (double emphasis on seeing with a dollop of mystical foresight: that is, seers.) The other actors in the dream are on the right; in this dream they represent my desire to do the “right” thing, the acceptable thing. Why does the person demanding originality have a black eye? Perhaps she is my black (unacceptable, secretive, mysterious) I (self). If I take the gate back to the house (my usual self) I am passing into the utilitarian, abandoning the possibility of discovering my own originality.

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.

Naked at Walgreen’s

Jung tells us we can never bring all our unconscious material to consciousness. With dreams, it’s two steps forward, one step back.

The Dream: I’m going to Walgreen’s. There are showers at the back of the store to the right. I sit on the curb in front of the store and begin to remove my clothes in anticipation of showering. I begin to feel self-conscious and wonder why I didn’t wait until I got to the shower area to disrobe. I go into the store, which has turnstiles near the entrance, hoping no one will notice my nakedness.

Interpretation: Something significant to my psyche is on the cusp on consciousness, but doesn’t quite make it. What about this dream makes me think so? First, the name of the store: Walgreen’s. A wall is some sort of block or impediment. But this wall is green anticipating growth, or a breakthrough. This is emphasized by the showers (water indicates the unconscious) at the back (something from the past) but also to the right (hinting that this material may become conscious). A store, of course, is a place where we keep things, like a storehouse. I’m so ready for this immersion into previously unaccepted material that I throw off my clothes, and immediately regret it.

Self-consciousness intervenes. Jung’s term for the complete person, one who has integrated her unconscious material, is the Self. Self-consciousness here is one of those entertaining little paradoxes dreams throw at us: being conscious of myself prevents me from developing my Self.  I do get past a barrier (the turnstile) but I’m too concerned with my vulnerability (nakedness) to progress further — at least not in this dream.

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.