Guest Dreamer: Sticky Ball Returns

Each of us has our own set of personal symbols, and the work of understanding your dreams lies in  carefully excavating them.

The Dream: I am walking up narrow wooden steps in a house. Low ceilings, pitch black except for small amount of light illuminating from either a flashlight I have in my hand or perhaps someone walking behind me with some light. It feels like one of those old homes you might find back east - narrow, dark stairs, tiny rooms. Then I'm in a bed. My right hand is in front of me and a rubber-like sphere is attached to my hand like it's sticky and stuck on me. It is still dark except for some reflected light on the ball (coming from a waning moon outside I think) so it looks navy bluish and the size of a baseball. I keep trying to disengage the ball from my hand by pushing it away but the harder I push the faster it comes back and sticks to my hand (as if attached by an invisible string). I am getting annoyed and frustrated.

Carla's thoughts: I don't know Maria, or anything about her life: I hope she will work through her dream, looking at its symbols in terms of what's going on in waking life. To get her started, and to suggest a way of going about the process, I'll write about her dream as if it were my own. Dreams have many possible meanings, so whatever someone else says about your dream is only accurate if it rings true for you.

For me, the narrow wooden steps stand for something in my life that is unbending, perhaps lacking feeling (wooden); something that constricts or limits me (narrow); and something that will take some effort to surmount (like a flight of steps). The low ceiling, the darkness, and the tiny rooms reinforce the idea that something is oppressing me. A home, being the place where I live, stands for me, and the characteristics of my dream home tell me that I'm not in a good place at the moment. The light is an encouraging symbol, however, telling me that I am capable of shining some light on what's bothering me and that the answer might come to me quickly, intuitively, in a flash.That the light might be held by someone else, walking behind me,  hints that there may be a helpful person I've overlooked.

The bed, being a place where intimacy occurs, symbolizes something that I'm very close to, for example, a relationship or my work. I'm in a sticky situation that's making me blue (sad), like the sticky ball in my hand. The moon is waning; romance (or the excitement of the job) has diminished, but isn't completely gone. My situation has strings attached; these might be the source of my frustration. My dream is telling me to shine some light (rationally evaluate) what's going on and then figure out what to do about the sticky situation.

Hit in the I

The Dream: I am rushing out of a building on the way to a dental appointment. There are some odd metal boxes, each with a drawer, in the lobby. I leave the building, picking up one of the boxes on my way out. As I'm going down the front steps, a Mexican girl comes running after me. I understand that she has left a book in the box. She is sitting on one of the steps and stretches out her hand to reach the drawer. As I turn, trying to make it easier for her to open the drawer, the corner of the box strikes her in the forehead. I am very sorry and apologize profusely. Here I was, trying to help, but instead I've hurt her.

We chat for a while and she accepts my apology. Then I realize the corner of the box hit her eye, not her forehead. The eye is red but doesn't appear to be damaged other than superficially. I am upset, but after a while I tire of feeling guilty. I begin to wonder if I had been wrong to apologize: would this open me to a lawsuit? “No,” I think. “The girl's too simple for that. Besides, she doesn't know my name.” I rush off for my dental appointment.

Interpretation: The earthier more basic part of me, as represented by the foreign (Mexican) girl wants an education—there's something she needs to know--(the book), and I (the ego) try to help her. In so doing a blow to the eye (I) occurs. So, as parts of the unconscious become educated, as they come to consciousness, difficulties and complexities are created for the conscious ego. I'm having trouble keeping things “in the box.” (The drawer slides out of its container.) The eye (I) is red (angry). I end up discounting this part of myself: she's too simple; she doesn't know who I am. I rush off for an appointment that never takes place.

The Next Step

I was completely stumped by this dream, but when my friend Beth heard it she knew exactly what it meant.

The Dream: There is a pattern on the floor made of oval-edged shapes. One motif to the right looks like a flower; the others are amorphous. The overall shape is a rectangle. I stand in front of this as if in a Step class and I do a step-like routine. I must place my foot on each of these shapes in a certain sequence. I do it perfectly.
Later I am called upon to do this again, and I find I have completely forgotten the routine. I stare blankly at the pattern on the floor and try to remember it. Someone wants to make a video of the step routine I can’t remember. I’m afraid it will be pornographic.

Interpretation: Beth pointed out that this dream is about performance anxiety. There is a progression of “freezing up,” revealed by my reaction to three different levels of scrutiny:

• Level 1 No Scrutiny: I’m perfect when I’m working on my own, with no one to observe.
• Level 2 Some Scrutiny: Someone asks me to do something and I choke.
• Level 3 Invasive Scrutiny: Someone wants to video my performance, and it feels like pornography.

A Scary Ascent

An ancient myth replays in this dream.

The Dream: I need to get between levels in an old deco style building, a 20s relic in a big city like New York. Instead of an elevator I must climb a treacherous ladder that get narrower as I ascend. Once at the top I must pivot on the narrow top step with no hand holds to access an adjoining ladder. The nearby 2nd ladder is for descent into a different part of the building.

I am frightened and grouse loudly about this problem. Why isn’t there a better, safer way to do this? I fall into a very black area that is full of a soft material, like heavy stage curtains. I don’t know if anyone can hear me holler, if anyone knows I’m down here, or if I will ever be rescued.

I split into two “me’s.” One is trapped; the other runs around, aware of the situation but not in it. The second me tries to get help for the first.

Interpretation: Two things came to mind as I looked at this dream: one was the spiritual injunction that “Narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” The other was the Icarus myth. In both cases, punishment is meted out to seekers who don’t quite make the grade. My unconscious is letting me know that my personal spiritual journey, through dream work, is not without peril. Can I rescue myself? I don’t know yet.

A New Garden

Parents are more than parents in our dreams. “Father,” for example, represents what Jung calls the conscious collective: church, state, traditional mores and authority. “Mother” represents the collective unconscious: instinct and myth.

The Dream: We have a new house we’re trying to get used to. We’re talking ourselves into liking it and being comfortable in it. There is a remote part of the garden, in the front of the house, planted with attractive plants and flowers. We can see ourselves sitting out there.

There’s a door to the left of the house, framed in green, with steps leading to a large side yard with 3 trees. I point to this side yard with its trees and a couple of straggly looking bushes along the back fence close to the back of the house. I am excited about the idea of making a new garden here, under the trees, where we can sit when it’s hot. I mention this to “mother.”

Interpretation: Not completely defeated by the previous night’s altercation with the “father,” I am trying to get comfortable in a new house (new psychic center). The plural dream characters tell me this effort is complex. The attractive front garden represents my public face--or to put it another way, my accommodation to the conscious collective. The steps show this may happen in phases (one step at a time) and the color green, signifying growth, that a change is in the works. The number 3 (three trees in the side yard) says I’m on the right track toward integrating my warring parts (3 represents the complete self). What about the green framed door? A door indicates a passage from one state to another. Here is a garden I can develop where I can shelter from the heat. I mention this to “mother.” Father and mother, each with a garden near my house, are coming closer.