Make A Choice and Pay The Price

If you look at conflict between the characters in your dream you will be able to home in on the difficulty the dream is attempting to resolve.
The Dream: My daughter is going for a treatment of antibiotics at a new age facility. I get preachy and tell her that if she needs antibiotics she should see a doctor, not go to the sort of squiggly-headed pseudo-scientific place she's chosen. I point out that if she's taking antibiotics unnecessarily they might not work when she really needs them.

I become aware that she has made this choice because she thinks she can sneak in without paying, whereas if she went to a doctor she would have to come up with a co-pay. I'm surprised she would do such a thing.

Despite my reservations about the place, I go to the facility myself, into a dressing room that is a converted parking lot. A male attendant scolds me for not getting into the queue for one of the two private, curtained dressing rooms. I hadn't been aware of the queue, but when I realize there are only two private changing rooms I start to pull off my clothes where I am, thinking it would be ridiculous to wait and who cares? The rough, tough security guard is embarrassed and looks away awkwardly.

I undergo some sort of treatment at this spa, pay for it, and leave. Later a bill comes for my daughter's treatment. It's over $600.00. She won't like it, but she can afford to pay. I know she'll be upset about the amount and surprised to learn that she didn't get away with anything after all.

Interpretation: My inner child is stubbornly trying to get away with something. From my “mature” point of view this child part of me ignores the facts and chooses an ineffective treatment for my problem. And yet the older, wiser, and objecting dream ego chooses to go to the same place for treatment. Through the dream I become aware that I don't want to pay the price my cure requires.  It's as if the dream wants to show me that there are ways to grow even in situations that aren't ideal.

The healing process begins as I expose my vulnerability (undress) without discomfort.   When told I must wait my turn for a private “changing” room I change publicly, without shame. This takes place in a partially converted parking lot, and the part of me that protects my security looks away. These two things signal that the “change” is to a “parked” and closely guarded part of myself.

Finally I accept that there is a high price for my child's attempt to freeload, but I know that my child, now grown, can afford it. I won't like it, but it's a price I am able to pay. It's as if one part of my psyche is dragging another along into a more mature awareness or resolution.

Guest Dreamer: Some Ups and Downs

Tyler has contributed today's dream that ends with a common fear: a crashing elevator.
The Dream: I remember being in a tall building, like a skyscraper. I don't know where we were though. There were a few people in the room I was in, and I remember having the feeling of being trapped there in that room or being held against my will or something like that. I remember I had an opportunity to leave and I took it, running out of the room towards the elevator. I made it to the elevator and hit L for lobby and was pounding on the Close Doors button and just as they were about to close someone stopped the elevator and came in. It was someone who I had recently met and hung out with a few times in a group and he wanted to go up some floors and he hit the button for a floor a few floors up. The doors closed and the elevator started going up a little, then all the lights turned off and the elevator plummeted towards earth. Usually, I'd wake up during something like this, but this time I didn't and the elevator smashed to the floor with both of us in it. I then remember almost instantly as the elevator smashed, that I was in another room looking at the smashed elevator on what seemed like a TV for security cameras and I may have been in a room with a few more people also watching these security camera feeds and then I woke up. It's been bothering me for a few days now because I thought you weren't supposed to die in your dreams.

Carla's thoughts: The dreamer will have to look at what's going on in his life that might have triggered this dramatic dream, but—to get him started thinking about some possibilities, I'll react to Tyler's dream as if it were my own:

I'm in the process of creating (building) something that I hope will enable me to reach great heights. (The building I'm in is a skyscraper.) I need to try to remember who is in the room with me, because there's something about our relationship that restricts me. I need to figure out what these people represent so I will be able to see what's holding me back. To escape this limiting influence I make a dash for the elevator. An elevator, being something that goes up and down, stands for my moods. At times I feel on an upswing, and at other times I go down into a slump. I was planning to escape by going down, but someone I recently met intervenes and sends me in the opposite direction. What qualities does this person have? Whatever they are, they don't seem to be working for me in this dream. My situation seems to improve a little (we go up) but after a slow start, I'm in the dark and out of control altogether. (We smash to the ground.)

Death in a dream often refers to the end of a stage of life—in other words, it is as much about a new beginning as it is about the end of something. In this dream, as soon as I die I'm in another place and I see things from a different perspective. Taking a hint from my dream, I'm guessing that my new point of view is safer than the one it replaced; after all, I'm seeing things on a “security” camera.

Written on the Body

Once we have attained middle age Jung tells us that our job is to come to terms with our own mortality.

The Dream: Clark and I are at the airport with lots of baggage. We’ve taken some of this into the terminal but most of our carry on is still in our parked van, which has been painted black. We go for a walk. When we return the van is gone—a woman has taken it to search for her dog, which someone has kidnapped. We go in search of her.

I am anxious. There is increased security at the airports and we must check in an hour ahead. I don’t feel any sympathy for the woman searching for her dog, but I hope she finds the animal so we can get the rest of our things and get on with it. I worry we’ll lose our parking spot by the time she returns.
Finally we find her and re-park the van. I notice the lock to my door is on the outside of the window, which seems useless.

Part of our luggage consists of t-shirt fragments printed with genealogical information and punctuated with blocks of color.

Interpretation: The unconscious is struggling with the idea of mortality (the imminent airplane ride will take me off the planet). This makes the dream ego anxious and uncomfortable. The missing animal embodies the primal aspects of life: sex, birth, death. I want to put the vehicle of change (van) back into its parking place. When the woman returns the van its lock has moved to the outside: once we’ve gained the knowledge of life and death it’s impossible to lock out what we know. The t-shirts symbolize our DNA, which maps our reality. Our past and future is encoded there: written on the body (thank you, Jeanette Winterson).  But perhaps it’s not the whole story?