A New Model

The Dream: A long line of gay couples, all women, are getting married. They are on a platform that looks like a model's runway. They file past and are married by the time they reach the spot where I stand. Each couple is accompanied by a friend, so I'm not sure which of the three is the newly married couple. All women are tall.

Interpretation: This dream was triggered by a  gay friend's wedding. This type of marriage is a new model. The friends that accompany the newly married couples represent social acceptance, and their tallness symbolizes that now all loving relationships can “stand tall.”

No Longer on a Higher Plane

Many dreams are about work. Whatever field you're in, chances are you face some conflicts. This dream is a good example of the way the unconscious identifies and attempts to resolve the issues.

The Dream: I am in an airplane going to Australia. There are very few people on the flight, and I’m surprised the effort has not been abandoned. The plane is huge, which emphasizes how few flyers there are. Clark and I sit about one quarter of the way back from a partition dividing the sections, and the other passengers are way back, about one quarter from the rear of the plane. The plane does not exactly take off, but flies very low through a city space like NYC. I wonder if we will ever gain a plane-like elevation. We cross bridges and fly/taxi along for miles and miles.

Then we are airborne, en route, and this is when I wonder about the practicality of this flight that has so few passengers. I discover I’ve neglected to pack my art supplies and feel a sense of loss at having forgotten something important. I think I could buy some in Australia, and at the same time I think I might like a vacation—no art making for a week or so. A rest might do me good.

Now I’m in an advertising office, or some sort of commercial art studio. The artists are busily painting at large easels. I don’t particularly care for what they are producing, but I find their process--the way they are producing it—exciting, and I want to try. It looks like fun! I want to play with their toys. I see a painting to the left instantly transform, coming together in a way that didn’t at first seem possible. I see a large painting with Michael Jackson in the foreground and the 3 Supremes behind him. It’s done in a pointillist style. I think I’ve done the same painting, only in mine Michael Jackson was naked.

Interpretation: This dream reveals my feelings about my work as an artist / illustrator. I start off on a lower level, and I stay there for so long that it doesn’t seem possible I’ll be elevated by the plane (art pun: picture plane) that I’m on. Once I (my skills, my career) finally do take off I discover I have no materials to work with. And there are so few passengers (people interested in my art) that I’m concerned about the practicality of the “effort.” I don’t have the “right stuff” to work on this level. Down on earth again I visit the commercial realm. Here I find a way to work—and it’s fun! On the other hand, I question the value of the product. The dream holds out some hope that this type of work can be transformed, as the paintings in the dream are. Since my artist (Michael Jackson) is exposed (naked) I might be able to produce some sort of meaningful, gutsy work in this down-to-earth commercial world, and have fun doing it.

Staying with My In-Laws

The Dream: I am visiting my in-laws. They give me their bedroom for the night. I am given a single bed next to where they normally sleep: in a “nest” on the floor that’s big enough for two.

Interpretation: I thought of my in-laws, and the gifts they have given me, as I worked in my studio yesterday. As I opened the sky-light I thought of my father-in-law, who had helped install it. I thought of both as I used a paper cutter Clark brought back for me from their house after his mother went into assisted living, and I thought of her again as I used some of her china-painting pigments. In the dream my husband’s family made room for me in the most intimate room of their house, a beautiful symbol of their acceptance, and I am grateful. Although one is gone and the other near death they stay with me, as in the dream I stay with them.

My Daughter’s Haircut

I’ve started a new dream journal, which always feels like a fresh beginning. I had hoped to have an interesting dream to kick off the event, but the little I remember of this one doesn’t seem so—at least it didn’t until I thought about it. Now I can see the dream is pointing out the part of myself I need to stick up for.

The Dream: My daughter has a new haircut. I’m talking to a woman who works at the salon, who tells me that my daughter was charged $300.00 but should have paid only $90.00. I say I will tell her; the salon worker doesn’t want me to. She wants the shop to retain its ill-gotten gain.

Interpretation: Hair, coming out of my head, represents my ideas; the new hairdo tells me something is changing. Since it is my child whose hair is different, the dream points out that I’m coming to a new understanding of the role my inner child plays in my contemporary life. I feel she has paid too dearly (been overcharged) for her creativity (new ideas).  I protest her mistreatment, but as far as this dream goes I do nothing but threaten to squeal. Since I can see this mistreatment is unfair, I hope that in a future dream I will fight harder for my child’s rights.

The Crows

The Dream: Another gloomy dream from the anniversary of my mother’s death. Three women wear the same boat-necked blouse, but one has different trousers. All will be okay if the 3rd woman gets the same trousers as the other two. She does, but this does not lift the pervading gloom. Large black birds begin to circle, as ominous the crows in the Van Gogh painting made shortly before the artist’s suicide. I try to change the birds into a different sort of bird, something less threatening, I but don’t succeed.

Interpretation: The number three is important in this dream. According to Bruno Bettelheim “numbers stand for people: family situations and relations.” One stands for me, two for a couple, and three for a person in relation to his parents.* In this dream, all wear the same boat-necked blouse. Because of the gloomy overtones here, the boat evokes the river crossing of the shades of the dead in Greek mythology. The three people are me and my dead parents. The trousers are not the same in the beginning of the dream. One (me) has different trousers. Two (the couple, my parents) have the same. I think all will be okay if our trousers are the same, but my unconscious acknowledges this will mean my death (the circling black birds). I can’t change the reality of our separation, even though I try.

*Bruno Bettleheim, "The Uses of Enchantment,The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales," Vintage Books Edition, Random House, New York, May 2010, 142- 3.

 

The Tree House

The Dream: I am with three people: a young dark-haired Frenchman, a girl of about 8 to 10, and Aunt Peggy. I know an English pub nearby that has a tree-house over a stream, and I want to show it to the young man who doubts it exists. I find the place. The tree-house has changed a lot since I last saw it. The structure looks far more planned and sturdy, as if lawyers had warned the owner about getting rid of potential hazards. It has lost a lot of its charm, but at least it's still there. It has an unusual staircase, very narrow at the bottom as if to make it impossible for an adult to gain access. I wonder if I can squeeze myself into the narrow stairwell and if I do, whether or not it will be possible to get down again. Then I notice there are some wider stairs on the other side that I could use. Nevertheless I squeeze myself into the narrow staircase and go up to the house over the stream. The four of us are at the top, wandering around. All enjoy it, but I feel it’s become too industrial, not like the more human and haphazard children’s structures of my youth. This place--too sturdy, over planned, mechanical—has lost its soul and poetry.

Interpretation: This dream reinforces what the previous dream was driving at: I’ve lost some valuable part of myself that is connected to childhood. I’ve become too rigid (the structure looks planned and sturdy).  This elevated trait of childhood (represented by the tree house) still brings pleasure, but is in danger of being changed to the point of its annihilation. The dream is pointing out the danger (losing soul and poetry) of being too careful.

A Slice of Head?

The Dream: A young man in a classroom is using a large chef’s knife to slice his head into three layers above his eyebrows. It doesn’t seem to distress him in any way. I am concerned, however, even if he isn’t.

Clark and I are waiting to go into a lecture on dreams in a setting that is part classroom, part theater. An usher seats a lone woman who is in front of us, and we are meant to wait in the lobby for our turn. I, however, decide to sneak in behind them and see how many seats are still available. The room is almost full. I’m excited to see how many people have turned out for a lecture on dreams. At the same time I think Clark and I had better grab a seat because there aren’t too many remaining.

We take our seats, and who should appear but the head slicer. He sits next to me and, again, starts to slice his head into 3 sections. I find this very disturbing, and this time he looks pale, as if about to faint. As he starts the final incision I say, “We must call an ambulance.” The young man doesn’t want us to.

Interpretation: The young man is slicing the part of his head where thought takes place (above the brow) into three sections, reflecting the division of our minds into id, ego and superego (Freud) or conscious, personal unconscious, and collective unconscious (Jung). While the dream character doing the self dissection appears to be unbothered, the dream ego goes from concerned to alarmed. Perhaps my animus (Clark) and I are too eager to go learn from dreams (we are attending a dream lecture). There is no seat (place) for us here, and it is only my pushiness (going out of turn) that gets us in. Once in, the head slicer reappears, and this time he seems to be feeling some ill effects from his work on himself

The Glittering Sky

Dreams come to tell us what we don’t know; and sometimes what we don’t know is as basic as what we’re thinking about.

The Dream: We have moved to San Diego with a moving van full of furniture. In our new home—which is an older building—there is a leak in the living room ceiling. Water is coming in, and I rush to put a bucket under it. Another leak sprouts, and water gushes in again. I try to fix it.

Four boys are fighting or playing outside one of the windows. Are they neighborhood kids playing, or are they young hoodlums? I’m not sure.

When Clark sees the leaks he discounts their seriousness, saying “We’re only here for three days.”
I am stunned. “We’re only here for three days, and we brought all our furniture? We could have stayed in a hotel!”

Clark thinks we would like it better in the house.

I look out a window and am surprised to see  stars.  I show them to Clark, commenting that perhaps what I’m seeing are twinkling lights from nearby houses on a hill. Then I realize that off to the right is the sea. Over the water I clearly see a sky jammed with countless, surprising, beautiful stars.

Interpretation: Strong emotions are emerging as I deal with a problem I’m not conscious of. The four boys who are either fighting or playing represent parts of me that are not integrated.

Under Water

Some dreams are inspired by waking life events in your past. When this occurs ask yourself, “Why did I revisit this particular incident now?” The answer? Something happening now—in the last couple of days--evokes a similar feeling.

The Dream: I am on a rubber raft on a fast river. Someone shouts a warning about the dangerous currents and I topple out of the boat. I am under the water about 6 inches, but traveling so rapidly, face-up, that I can’t save myself. I can see the bright blue sky through the sparkling and clear rushing water. I think, “I’m going to drown.”

Interpretation: Something like this happened to my daughter many years ago when she was three. We were in an inflatable boat, and she fell off the back. Her father grabbed her foot; in the several seconds it took to retrieve her she was dragged behind the boat, looking up with a startled and terrified expression.

Why did I dream this now? When I look at what’s going on in my life, I see that I’m feeling under water. I’m drowning under too many deadlines and obligations. Time to come up and breathe.

A Small Dark Pool

Your dreams are cleverer than you might think. After you write one down, take a good look at the words your unconscious has given you. In this dream, a shift in the word used to describe a body of water holds a clue to the meaning of the dream.

The Dream: I’m outside on the back deck of a house, overlooking a small dark pool entirely contained in our back garden. I am throwing trash, some empty containers, into the pool. Then I realize there is other trash, of a similar sort, already on the bottom: empty plastic bottles and milk containers. I’m not sure why I threw the 3 pieces of trash into the lake. I expect it to sink to the bottom, and when it does I notice the trash already there. I think we had better clean up this mess before we swim.

Interpretation: There are things I don’t want (trash) submerged (at the bottom, in the dark) in my unconscious (the pool). Some of it is phony and trivial (plastic); some connected to things I should have outgrown (milk). I need to do some clearing out (clean up this mess) before I can enjoy the benefits of a better relationship with the unconscious (swim in the lake). A subtle but meaningful shift in terminology: the body of water changes from a pool (implication of man made) to a lake (natural) as the dream progresses. This implies a return to a healthy state once the cleanup occurs.

The Distracting Child

In dreams, references to lower levels or the left usually refer to unconscious elements, and the kitchen is a place where transformation takes place.  The divine child represents rebirth.

The Dream: A young child, about three, is fretful and we don’t know how to amuse her. I don’t have any toys for her. It occurs to me I could give her a very simple recipe to follow and she could make some food. This would occupy her and leave me free to concentrate on other work, such as cooking the rest of the dinner. I make a work station for her on the kitchen table—at a lower level, to my left.

Interpretation: A part of me that I wasn’t aware of is kicking up a fuss and demands my attention. The dream ego finds a useful job for her and brings her closer (integrating her) while at the same time pushing her back down into the unconscious (I put her on a lower level and to my left). That the dream ego is “cooking the rest of the dinner” implies a mixing and blending of ingredients and a magical or alchemical (as Jung might put it) transformation.

Halfway There

Jung tells us that a circle represents the center of creative change.

The Dream: A half circle with radiating triangles.

Interpretation: The triangle traditionally represents things that come in threes such as father, mother and child. This suggests I’m putting older things together to produce something new. But since a circle signifies wholeness, I’m only halfway there.

The Egg and I

Often in dreams real world events or activities take on a symbolic meaning. This dream uses an ancient paint binder—egg yolk—to help me get over a creative block.

The Dream: I am wandering around in the streets of San Francisco in search of an egg to use to make paint. I am at Liz’s house, and I think I’ll use one of her eggs. I get one out of the fridge and crack it open, but it doesn’t look right and I find I can’t get the white part separated from the yolk. I try two more eggs, thinking I owe Liz 3 eggs, but also remembering that she mistakenly took a quart of my yogurt the last time she visited me—so perhaps she won’t mind.

Interpretation: My friend Liz and I are egg tempera painters. Symbolically the egg represents the germ of creation. I don’t have what I need (the right egg) to be creative in the way I’d like. As I take my friend’s eggs I am identifying with her qualities: we both had perfectionist parents, and the dream tells me that I need to get past their perfectionist expectations to be creative in my own way. The dream points the way to a more relaxed attitude by letting me off the hook for taking my friend’s property; my action becomes part of the give and take of life.

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.