Talent in a Limited Sphere

The Dream: My friend Mary and I, and a couple of others, are sitting around in an oblong room. Even though we are few in number, performers come through to entertain us. First to appear is a mixed-aged singing troupe, very young children to adult arranged in order of age, youngest to the left. Two singers catch my eye, one an adorable black boy of about five and the other a middle aged brown-haired white woman. Plain but not homely, she looks like a sweet “mother” type from the 50s. She has a lovely voice, but the group as a whole is amateurish. Other performers cycle through and we realize they hope for some sort of success or recognition, but they have a long way to go, and they aren’t getting much exposure performing for us.

Interpretation: This dream juxtaposes the young, expressive, appealing child who has no skill with the boring, not particularly appealing middle-aged woman with surprising talent. Her talent cannot develop in the limited world she inhabits. Perhaps she is past the point where her talent can develop at all. Her dark blue dress and brown hair evoke my mother: am I looking at her limited achievement in the wider world, which I (and she, no doubt) regretted? Did she want me to be “famous” as her avatar? Is this what drives me?

The presence of my friend Mary is a hint that this dream is linked to the last post  Who’s in the driver seat?

Out in the Cold

The Dream: Communal singing has begun, and Clark and I join in. A young attractive woman with short curly hair asks us if we will join the church choir in our new area. She says it’s fantastic and everyone either belongs to it or joins in the singing at the services. I see a very large choir at the front of a church where the altar would normally be. The choir is joyous and full of life. I think that with Clark’s distaste for religion it isn’t likely we’ll be joining this group.

We leave the hall and are walking outside. It is summer, but there is slushy snow on the ground, and a light snow is falling. I am comfortable as we walk through the chilly air, but I notice Clark has no gloves; his hands are bare. “You have to learn how to dress for the cold,” I tell him.

Interpretation: Again I deal with isolation. The seduction of belonging is clear; the group makes beautiful music. But my other half, as represented by my husband Clark, cannot pay the price required to join in. Again the intellect is the culprit: I cannot pretend to believe what is so demonstrably not true. I tell this part of myself that since it’s going to be out in the cold, so to speak, it better learn how to dress for it.

Kaleidoscope Mandala

Societies across all cultures have created religious art based on a circle: in the West we see halos and rose windows in cathedrals; in the East are the mandalas of Hindu and Buddhist temples. Jung considered this an archetypal symbol of what he calls the self.

The Dream: A young royal with many connections is arranging a Christmas party for some even younger relatives. He has set a table with a linen cloth and much fine, if rather arbitrarily chosen, china and silver. It’s as if the prince has furnished the event with items he found discarded in the palace basement. The seat of honor, a throne-like chair, is old and very delicate. Nevertheless, it’s very pretty. Two children are in attendance, one on either side of the rectangular table. I am helping the attractive young prince, although I’m not sure why. Am I toadying to his rank, trying to gain favor or status? I’m not sure. 

I offer to serve the cream to the children and go to retrieve the pitcher. When I return I ask each child in turn if he or she would like some. They are very polite little British children and say, “Yes, please!” with their adorable accents. I pour a large quantity of a thick yellow goop onto the little boy’s plate, then feel I’ve overdone it and scoop some back into the pitcher hoping my action has gone unnoticed. The other child also gets an over-large quantity. I look at their plates, everything obscured by a thick layer of cream, and I feel embarrassed; but the children don’t seem to mind.

I hear a distant voice approaching. Pavarotti, one of the famous 3 tenors, is singing. The young royal who organized the party pressed him into service for the event.

All at once I’m at the table with the children, in a seat with a rounded hood like a bassinet. There’s a dome over my head, and I see a beautiful kaleidoscope of color. To my left I see Santa Claus. He is very beautiful, perfect. Everything is perfect and theatrical. For a brief moment I think I can again believe in this child’s land of wonder—then the alarm went off. 

Interpretation: According to Jung one of the functions of dreaming is the attainment of the self. Briefly put, the self is realized potential. This almost never occurs completely; it is as rare as sainthood. But when we make some progress in the right direction our unconscious gives us thumbs up. By joining the children at the table I’ve integrated my child--one of the fragmentary, shadowy, unconscious aspects of myself--so my dream shows me symbolically that I’ve made some progress, in this case by producing a mandala.

The Crystal Vase

This dream was inspired by a conversation with an artist friend. Jane suggested a group of us make art pieces based on clothing that couldn’t be worn.

The Dream: I am wearing a Waterford crystal vase.

Interpretation: I sent the dream to Jane, knowing she would find it as amusing as I did. Here is her interpretation, written in the first person because that’s the polite way to talk about someone else’s dream: “I am transparent. That the crystal is Waterford and that vases typically hold water suggest the unconscious. I am beautiful all over but strong and fragile too. I sing when wet fingers spin on the rim. The "singing" shows how I process life through my spirit and intelligence, my hands and senses.”

Now you can see why I’m so fond of Jane.

Don’t Send in the Cavalry

Look at the words and images in your dreams carefully. Often what seems like nonsense at first glance can be deciphered if you look for puns and plays on words, and think about the possible alternate meanings of the images.
 
The Dream: The dream is set in a barren, hilly setting. I’m sitting with a group of people on a bleacher facing a valley formed by other hills. There’s a deep crevice between the hills. We hear the sound of hooves and see the cavalry approaching. Their uniforms are gray, and they seem antiquarian. They stop at the foot of our bleacher and begin to sing. Their leader faces us and we all sing with him. His name eludes me, and I decide to practice writing it. He is Major Paul Baurow, pronounced Bo-Ro. I practice spelling and pronouncing it. There are two letter combinations in his last name, both pronounced “oh” but spelled differently. When I address him I still can’t remember his last name and call him Major Paul.

There is a man in the group (not a soldier) I am attracted to. He seems to be attracted to me as well. At first my husband encourages me to go to an event with the man, then Clark seems to become suspicious. I say flippantly, “We’re going to have monkey sex.”

Interpretation: The deep crevice tells me I’m dealing with some sort of split, and the dream exposes a conflict between my independence from--and my submission to--societal restraints. The cavalry and Paul Baurow (pall bearer or politburo) represent societal coercion, which “palls” the spirit. They expect me to sing along with the group. The attractive man is the part of me that is not regimented, “not a soldier,” and that wants to be uncivilized and experience the freedom of the animal (monkey sex).  My husband (my other half) is divided, just like the split in the hill. One moment he is encouraging me, the next not.