Still A Beginner

The Dream: I am waiting and waiting for a fellow to go skiing with. It is getting onto 4:00, about the time I would like to stop skiing for the day. At one point I think “Why did I wait for him? I should have just gone on by myself.” I think about what an inept skier I am, and how this fellow probably doesn't realize that and will be annoyed when he discovers it. I know it's a very long, but beautiful, lift ride up to the ski area. “By the time we get there,” I think, “it will be getting dark.”

Interpretation: In this attempt to do something that looks beautiful but that I seem to have difficulty grasping I see my struggle to create a meaningful life. I feel I'm running out of time. In feeling that others are impatient with my inadequacy I project my own harsh self-judgment onto them.

Living at the Ritz

The Dream: Clark has bought a ski condo at the Ritz building in Manhattan. It is on Central Park South, facing the Park. Our condo is on a top floor and can be accessed only by going up ladders and through openings which look like holes in the ceiling. I find this method of access scary and cumbersome. Once I get up there, I wonder, how frightening will it be to come down?

When we finally get to our condo it’s very large, but dirty—stuffed with old furniture from previous occupants. It’s in need of a paint job, cleaning, clearing out. I’m not sure how this can be done, since there is no elevator and only a small entrance.

I’m in the lobby of the very fancy building, with uniformed doormen scurrying about. At first I feel quite classy for being a resident of such a place, but when I go outside to look at the building I see a marked change between the lower floors and the floor our condo is on. Our floor looks shabby, and it occurs to me that it must have been the servants’ quarters, which explains why it must be accessed with ladders.

I discover, however, that I can take the main staircase up to all but the very top floor. To get to the top I must still use a ladder, made of rope and hanging from the attic. I discover some workmen in the hall who are dealing with the mess upstairs, or attempting to.

Clark is quite pleased with the purchase of this condo, which he made without consulting me. He was uncharacteristically quick to buy it. When I reenter the condo, armed with my insight that it must originally have been the servants' area, I notice that, nevertheless, the ceilings are very high.

Interpretation: In my previous dream I faced my desire for wealth and fame; this dream takes the process forward. The part of me that deals with the world, what Jung calls my animus, is represented by Clark who has bought a ski condo at the top of the Ritz in Manhattan. That’s a pretty clear image of success! But the fly in the ointment soon emerges, as I discover the practical difficulties inherent in this success: it’s difficult to attain (must climb up ropes and go through hoops (holes) to get there, and once I do it’s messy and dirty. And was attaining this sort of success even my idea? The dream hints it isn’t, since my place is crammed with things from the past, put there by others.

To top it off, this success is a sham. My marvelous condo at the top of the Ritz looks shabby when I stand back and look at it, and I discover it once housed servants. But the situation is being worked on. Once my inner workmen clear out the debris left by others and I stop running after a version of success that is not true for me I start to notice the good things about where I am. The ceilings are, after all, impressively high.

Blue Rider

One character we often see in myths is the helpful guide, whose job it is to point the hero in the right direction. Our dreams can also provide guides to help us through the journey of life.

The Dream: An artist is displaying his work. I look at the piece intently, admiring his skill. I notice his work is effective because he has a light background and a dark foreground which creates enough contrast to make the picture “read” from a distance. As I admire his work he talks about it, emphasizing the importance of contrast. He tells me how he backs up to look at the piece in order to gauge the impact of what he’s doing.

He invites me to go “horse riding” with him. The way he expresses it is a little odd: he doesn’t say “horse-back” riding. I say that I would love to, but the last time I was on a horse I realized it had no brakes. He thinks I felt insecure because of the sort of saddle I had used, and he describes a new one which would hold me firmly on the horse. Then I begin to wonder if this would be a date, and if Clark would object. I think of skiing, where I am frightened of losing control and careening off into danger.

Interpretation: My guide invites me to look at life in its totality, to accept the dark and the light, the contrast which makes the entire “picture” resonate. I back off from this advice. He invites me again to do the daring thing: to take the horse and ride it. I recognize my fear of losing control.