Medieval Fortress

The Dream: We are walking in NYC. I'm with Clark and one of my daughters. We're in the neighborhood of my old apartment. I say, “Ahh! Second Avenue.” I tell them that the building on the corner has been redone; it was far more modest when I lived around here. Its pitched roof looks Tudor yet the building's simple lines are contemporary. Turning to look at the building I once lived in, I say that it hasn't changed. But it has: it is nothing like what it was. It looks like a blocky medieval fortress with a large courtyard. Its carved stone is ancient, showing clear signs of age. There are several entrances to the building. I see a large formal main entrance up some steps and a less formal one closer to us. My daughter spots one I didn't see, a basement entrance to our right. She pushes on the door; it isn't locked and we enter. I'm surprised access is so unguarded.

When we enter we find a large lounge area, full of people. Do they all live in the building, I wonder—or have some wandered in off the street looking for a place to stay?  It's difficult for me to get around them. Finally I get through and we go up an escalator. All the time I'm surprised by how different this building is to the one I remember living in. I'm separated from Clark and my daughter and go into a room that's full of computer-type devices. As I start to leave the sales manager asks if he can have a little bit of information. I say no.

Interpretation: This long dream seems to be about the complexity of maintaining a consistent sense of self as I go through life. A building (my “self”) is clobbered together from wildly divergent styles:Tudor and contemporary. The building I once lived in is now a medieval fortress made of ancient stone. The self this represents is ancient, made of stone, and shows clear signs of age—I suppose I'll have to admit to being an inflexible old biddy. My unconscious seems to be hinting that this is a fortress that needs to be stormed, or at least entered, and there are several paths that would serve the purpose: going through the basement (becoming more down to earth) would result in my being more open (unguarded).

I am surprised to discover the many parts of myself—all the people that live in this building. Can they all be me? Or have some of them only wandered in for a while? The ego (the sales manager who's looking for information) wants to know more; the unconscious doesn't want to cooperate.

Much Ado About Nothing

The Dream: A crazy man, older, who looks like a World War II vet, is shooting 2 six guns outside a museum. I run for cover and cower among what look like archeological remains: pillars, columns, large stones, in the area across from the building. A woman holds me; she wears a blue jacket. Partially she holds me out of her own fear; partially to comfort me.

Interpretation: This is my terrified inner child, confronting the angry father of my early childhood. He is in front of a museum, a place where artifacts of the (my) past are stored. Mother and I cower among the old ruins, those ruined times of painful family interactions. Doing the illustration for this dream affected my understanding: what Dad shot off was his mouth. He was irascible, not mean or cruel, and yet he probably scared my gentle and somewhat timid mother as much as he scared me. I laughed when I finished the drawing; the silly image showed me our cringing overreaction to some irate words—which, in the final analysis, represented somebody blowing off some steam. Now that I can look at this anger with an adult perspective I can see there’s no longer reason to be frightened.

Guest Dreamer: The Strange Case of the Blood Red Haematite and The Philosophers Stone

One of the mysterious things about dreams is how they help us to get to know ourselves. Openfoot’s training and education emphasized the scientific and rational—which is a good thing. On the other hand, it put him at a distance from his intuitive, feeling side—not such a good thing. In this dream he resolves these two often conflicting ways of perceiving the world. Openfoot, who has his own dream website, will tell us his interpretation of the dream, and I’ll add some comments afterward.

The Dream: I am in a long thin room, a lecture theatre perhaps or the gallery of a museum. It is furnished in a nineteenth century style. There is a lot of wooden panelling and wooden framed, glazed display cases. A group of men, of whom I am one, is in the room. We seem to be wearing period costume although it is perhaps a couple of hundred years older than the furniture and decoration in the room. I get the feeling that a meeting has just ended and we remain discussing the substance of the meeting in an informal way and just socialising.

A Different Kind of War

The Dream: There are two opposing armies: on one side, the Americans; on the other, the Koreans. I’m on the American side. We’re behind a high stone wall. We shoot over the wall, and then duck to keep from getting shot. The other side doesn’t have a wall, yet we never hit any of them. I think we should call in a helicopter to shell them from above since we are getting nowhere with our current method. The general tells me we won’t do that because we actually don’t want to hurt anybody.

Interpretation: I see this dream as an almost humorous image of my internal battle. On the one side is my current concept of myself (a “me” rican); on the other side, an important part of myself (a “core” ean) that I haven’t yet accepted.  The dream ego (me) has insulated itself behind a stone wall and fights it out with this unacceptable part of myself. I get impatient and want to destroy it from above, indicating it’s my intellect at war with my instinctive, more primitive nature. The general, who represents my greater, more integrated awareness—what Jung calls the Self—counsels patience. The dream tells me that there is a better way than destroying a part of myself to resolve my internal conflict.

A Plane in a Cave

The Freudians would have a field day with this imagery, but the more I thought about it the more it seemed to me that the dream was about the immortal soul. (An appropriate post for Sunday, no? Unconsciously selected, of course.)

The Dream: I am in a very large cave, made of a reddish stone. It reminds me of the caves in the Dordogne. I see people looking expectant, as if an event is about to take place.  To my surprise I spot an airplane perched among the cave’s rocky outcrops, very neatly wedged into a series of rocks near the top. Did it crash there, I wonder? Yet it looks unscathed. The airplane’s crew are getting ready to do something, we know not what. A little house is set into the rock next to the plane. Some crew members will sleep in the plane, others in the house; they seem to be sorting out the arrangements. I see welcoming lights shining from the windows of the house set in stone, and I am interested to see that it’s used. I had often wondered about its purpose. I spend most of the time in the dream wondering how the plane got in, and how it can possibly get out.

Interpretation: The cave is associated with the Lascaux caves of the Dordogne, a famous repository of Paleolithic art. This tie-in to ancient man implies the dream harkens back to my earliest experience of consciousness. How early? The reddish color of the cave suggests the womb. The “expectant” people include my mother, who awaits my birth. Airplanes are symbolic of our aspirations, and this airplane is my immortal soul. Its location, high above the cave’s floor, is another hint that the dream is dealing with the holy; gods often dwell on mountain tops. How did spirit (the plane) come to be lodged in matter (the inside of the earth, a cave)? How precarious it looks, and yet it’s neatly wedged and seems stable. Some aspects of the soul (the crew) remain in their natural setting (the plane). Others will dwell in the earthly rock house, at least until it’s time to depart. I ponder this wonder: how did the soul get here, and how will it leave?

See the Pyramids

            

You might associate dreams with the negative: such as the anxiety that produces nightmares or the unresolved issues that confound us night after night.  But often dreams are little treats, letting us know we’re on the right path. In this dream what Jung calls a coniunctio, or a union of opposites, takes place.

The Dream: This one is set on the Nile, with the Pyramids in the background. Interspersed with the pyramids are large stone 18th century heads (such as George Washington). It is sunset and an orange glow suffuses the scene.

Interpretation: The Pyramids, symbolizing the mysterious, the hidden, the subterranean, are interspersed with giant heads from the Age of Reason. The two forces co-exist: reason and mystery. Both are blessed by the life-giving flow of the Nile. The orange glow suffusing all joins these seemingly incompatible forces.