The Synthesis

When a dream character's behavior seems baffling, it's a good idea to look at the person and ask yourself what part of you they might represent. Often you'll discover they represent those parts you don't acknowledge.
The Dream: I am visiting my friend Janet. I have some children but they are in the background, not the focus of attention. Janet dislikes children, and I know it. I'm using her sink. I notice for the first time that it is a very tall pipe that drips into a bathtub. The water turns on and off via a pull chain. I am surprised to see, in her modernist apartment, that she has a bathtub in what was once a kitchen and that she now uses this space as her living room. When I see it I become nostalgic for an apartment I left long ago that had a tub in the kitchen. I notice that the center of the room has an island with gas and water hook-ups for a kitchen, exposed, with no attempt at aesthetics.

The room is airy and spacious, with a large sofa off to the side. I suggest to Janet that she make this large room back into a kitchen and use the one off to the right, the current kitchen, for her sitting room.

The children, now dogs, come running through and spit up on Janet's throw pillows. She thinks it's a big job to remove the pillow cases for laundering. I am surprised that she is making such a fuss over such a small job. I start to help her and do it quickly and easily, thinking that she has no house-wife skills. I feel superior that I do.

Interpretation: Janet, a very intellectual and independent friend, represents those parts of me. In waking life as in the dream she has no patience for the maternal. She can't manage the unpredictable, messy parts of life. With her as my proxy, I reject the instinctual (the dogs) and the not-yet-formed (children) parts of myself. In the dream I suggest she move her creative center, as symbolized by the kitchen, to a larger space, once that is both plumbed to do the job and has a comfortable place to rest (the sofa). My way to grow is to use the skills I'm so proud of in the dream to move my psychic home to a new contemporary space.

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 Rape

The Dream: A woman is friends with a man. We are living in a shared space. I leave them to go into another room. Soon I hear the woman screaming for me, horribly distressed. I find her in the bathroom. The toilet seat is up and she has immersed her bottom in the water, which is tinged with blood. It's clear to me that she has been raped by her “loving” friend. Shall I call 911?” I say. She doesn't answer. “I'll call 911,” I say, leaving her to look for a phone. This nightmare awakens me.

Interpretation: At the time of this dream I belonged to a book club sponsored by a Christian church. The meeting devolved into a discussion of the participants' personal beliefs. As I listened to others talk about “faith” and “belief” and “Christianity” I realized how alien I find these ideas. While the dream was triggered by media stories about rape, and certainly reflects the vulnerability that women face, the underlying issue for me is the rape of the intellect that I feel as a participant in a Christian group. I feel I'm not allowed to express my honest thoughts. This leaves me feeling my intellect (logical mind) has been raped; who I am (my self) denied.

Not an I (Eye) Surgeon

The Dream: There is an eye surgery nearby. The head doctor, who does laser surgery, is an affable phony. He's been friendly, so I go back to see him. He's in the middle of an operation. To get to him I have to walk all the way to the end of his facility, a long, narrow room. I see him working next to a large rectangular surgical table covered by a tray filled with blood. The smell puts me off, plus I can see he's busy, so I leave.

As I get to the front door one of his assistants, an officious nurse, points to a flimsy sign, folded over in a way that makes it unreadable, handwritten on lined school paper. The sign says, “Stay Out!” or “No Admittance.” She is judgmental in that quiet, huffy, offended way that some women have perfected. She says something like, “Didn't you see the sign?” as she slams and locks the door after me.

I feel guilty and ill at ease about having trespassed, even though I hadn't seen the sign. I worry that I will be the cause, or be blamed, if there's a difficulty with the eye operation.

Interpretation: This dream was triggered by a guest dreamer post:  The Dream. I saw the dream as sexual, in some way connected to the dreamer's menses, related either to her actual father's reaction to her coming to womanhood or to the father as symbolic of the culture's values. I was concerned that the woman who offered the dream might be offended by my interpretation. My own dream tells me that I shouldn't go near the blood, that I am trespassing. Perhaps with this particular dream, I was “at the end of [my] facility;” in other words, either my comments were facile or I was out of my depth. And this could be true because, to avoid upsetting the dreamer, I did feel the need to soften my reaction to her dream. I see the doctor in my dream as a phony, but affable.

If I make a mistake with someone's “I” (eye) I leave myself open to a huffy, offended judgment. At least as far as that particular guest dream goes, my own psyche thinks it might have been better to see the writing on the wall (the sign) and “Stay out!”

Entangled in a Mask

The Dream: Clark and I are surprised to find an extra, unattractive room, and we don't think we have a use for it except perhaps for storage. Then I notice it's full of my old clothes. I pull out several items, excited to have found these old things: it's a sort of rediscovery. I am about to discard many of these items when I come across a skirt that attracts me: it's dated, with a fitted waist, a full skirt, and a ruffled edge. Nevertheless there is something appealing about it. It doesn't hang well, and I discover that's because it's entangled with a mask.

Interpretation: A newly discovered room (part of my psyche) is not so attractive at present, especially to my integrated self (anima: dream ego; and animus: Clark). It seems to us the room is useless except for storage. Yet when I start to discard my old clothes (outdated concepts) I discover there's something appealing about them. What are these old ideas? Perhaps they, like the ruffled skirt, are part and parcel of outdated ideas of femininity. They no longer hang well, and the reason they don't is because they've become entangled in a mask; in other words, they are not true, but part of a socially imposed persona.

House for Sale

The Dream: We go through a house that's for sale finding rooms with striking, very bold wall papers: large scale, abstract, very colorful florals. The papers overwhelm the rooms; but there's something so beautiful about them that I think I would try to work with them if I bought the place.

Interpretation: The house for sale implies a change. I am trying to deal with something overwhelming that's both beautiful and problematical. If I buy the place (accept the challenge) it will mean I can't settle for the easy, quiet, comfortable route.

The Need to Focus

The Dream: I have purchased a very large telescope, and I have a special observation room on the second floor. In the daytime I can see small aspects of life, as if I were looking through a microscope. I’m looking forward to what I’ll see at night.

I become aware that there are other “princesses” like me who have telescopes, only theirs come with harnesses for their heads that enable the device to track automatically. There’s no need for these users to refocus. I wish I had spent more money and gotten myself a telescope like theirs.

Interpretation: Nighttime, dream time, promises to reveal a deeper, more insightful, vision of life. I’m having some difficulty focusing on what is being revealed. A deeper commitment to the process, symbolized by my spending more money (effort) on my equipment (what I need), might solve the problem.

Studio for Sale

The Dream: An artist friend is selling her two-story studio. The unfinished downstairs smells musty, like a basement. Black construction paper lines some of the walls. The person moving in will use the larger of the two upstairs rooms for her painting. The smaller room, to the right as I look at them, will be for storage.

Interpretation: The downstairs, evocative of a basement with its musty smell, tells me that I’m dealing with an issue that has basic, or primitive, overtones. The black paper evokes a dark cave, perhaps one with writing on its walls (paper is something we write on). That it’s construction paper hints something was built on this obscure foundation. This train of thought leads me to the Lascaux cave paintings. Here these French caves symbolize our species’ early commitment to art, and the dream deals with some sort of unconscious change in my relationship to the art I make.

The dream emphasizes duality: the studio has two stories; the upstairs has two rooms. One part of me is getting rid of her studio; another part who’s moving in seems to be elevating the work, taking it to a higher level (on the second floor) where she will paint in the larger room and store things in the smaller one. I hope the transformed artist will be nourished by the primitive energy from downstairs, and that she can synthesize that energy with the higher consciousness upstairs.

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.”

My Mother’s Bureau

After a loved one dies the psyche works to create the right space for that person within us. In this dream I struggle with the difficulty of taking on the role my mother played in my life after her death.

The Dream: I am using my mother’s bureau, and I notice that one drawer is crammed with her things. I realize I haven’t left her enough room; she must squeeze most of her things into this one drawer. I feel I’ve been unkind.

Interpretation: The key to understanding this dream is making the connection between the words bureau (where one stores clothes) and office (where one works). The two are synonyms. I have taken over my mother’s office (work) and given her less space. This new role is still uncomfortable.

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