Hunger

The Dream: This dream centered on hunger that can't be satisfied. In the first fragment, a man wants to have sex with two women. The woman who's mind we're in wants marriage in return, or at least fidelity, but neither is on offer. The man more or less says, “All I want is sex; I'll get it from you or from someone else.” The woman acquiesces.

In the second fragment, a woman cannot satisfy her hunger, even though food is available. It is said, in explanation, that she had once gone through a period of starvation and could not now feel satiated, no matter how much she ate.

Interpretation: Keeping in mind the previous dream, I see religious overtones here. I thought of the Biblical phrase about those who hunger and thirst after righteousness. My rejection of the religion I grew up in has left me hungry for spiritual nourishment. The dream uses the carnal, food and sex, as symbols of this need. The first segment of the dream points out that the thing on offer doesn't fulfill my needs. The man's demand for sex on his very unpleasant terms stands for my reaction to my religious experience. Yet as the dream character I acquiesce. It seems I've decided this pathetic offer is better than nothing.

In the second fragment, the dream points out that there is plenty of sustenance available. Just because I “starved” in the past doesn't mean I must go hungry now.

The Twins

This dream highlights an inner conflict that is resolved in a surprising way.
The Dream: There are two women who are very different: one is brazen, free, and experimental; the other prim and conformist. These women operate undercover; they are spies for opposing sides. Their true identities are revealed when they whip off their disguises and it's clear they are identical twins. Their apparent differences have fooled everyone; in actuality they are very much together. The opposites they assumed were a part of their disguise.

Interpretation: The dream tells me about two sides of myself that appear to be at odds—different in every way and working for opposing forces. And yet, once their disguises are removed, it becomes clear there is no conflict here. That the true identities of the twins, once their outer trappings are removed, are the same—identical--tells me that what I consciously see as opposing traits are only so on a superficial level, at least at this point in my life. If I were once torn between polarities, that is no longer the case. My two halves are now very much together. I can be prim and brazen at the same time! The dream gives me the insight that qualities we think of as “opposites” can live in harmony, and that our inner core of being can be far more complex than I realized.

A Pox on Both Your Houses

The Dream: Two women are going to be executed. The action takes place in a small town. The townspeople are required to carry out the execution. The action centers on the drugstore, where the druggist, a man, is in a separate cubicle searching for the means to carry out the execution order. He finds two garrotes made of shiny thin black plastic and realizes that this is the instrument that will be used. He is nervous and drops them on the floor, then picks them up and puts them on the counter. Next question? Who will be the executioner?

Interpretation: The two women signal an internal conflict. The small town tells me that the conflict has to do with my relationship to a group: I feel strangled (the garrote) by the society I’m in. The druggist represents the part of me that wants to deaden my awareness of this problem (he dispenses drugs); the cubicle (box) he’s in echoes my isolation. He discovers a way to get rid of the conflict—by choking it off (the two garrotes). But since they are made of plastic (phony) we can guess he might not be successful with this approach. That he has discovered this drastic solution floors him (he drops the garrotes on the floor). In the end he has provided the means where it counts (the counter); but he isn’t ready to do the deed. 

Ménage a Moi

The Dream: A woman is thinking, “It’s Saturday night; I should remind my husband this is the night we have sex.” As she thinks this, another woman goes to the man and says, “Remember it’s Saturday night and that’s when we have sex.” The first woman realizes that her husband has two wives. This doesn’t upset her; she has noticed the man’s annoyance when the other woman nagged him about having sex, and she thinks that because the other woman has said something she no longer needs to. She wonders how the night will play out: A ménage a trois?

Interpretation: Taken out of sequence I would have no idea what this dream means. Seen as the culmination of the last two dreams, however, it makes sense. I split into three in Death of the Attached Baby and into two in Both of Them Are Me. In this  potential ménage a trois my various selves try to come together. (Yes, I noticed the pun.)

The Medieval Poisoners

Two women in a woman’s dream can allude to two conflicting parts of herself, as in this dream, where it’s a fight to the death.

The Dream: Two women have a rivalry. One is young, attractive, and dark-haired. I pretend to be her friend. The other has dark blonde hair and looks about 50; she is slightly stout. I don’t know her very well. I know about their plots and machinations but saying nothing, letting events take their course. Both the women wear medieval costume:  the younger one in dusty mauves and pinks, the older in autumnal rich ochres. The beautiful dark-haired woman has been poisoned and dies in my arms while I watch without much reaction. The other woman has also been poisoned, and I know she too will die soon. I look at her face and see a kindly older person. It’s like a small revelation. So I suggest that, if she is capable of it, she try to vomit. Once I have given her this heads-up I realize that she was the one responsible for poisoning the other woman. So how kind could she be?

Interpretation: I see a conflict from the past, as symbolized by the medieval costume. On the one hand I have the part of myself that cleaves to the roles inculcated in my youth: the beautiful young woman refers to the beautiful aspect of woman in my girlhood. How lovely she was, in her elegant Vogue splendor: hats, gloves, chic costume—and what fun it was to be completely preoccupied with fashion and elegance.
The older woman symbolizes the “older and wiser” part of me, the part that rejects being limited to a superficial and decorative role. (Not to mention the part that, being older, would have a hard time pulling it off.) So, inevitably perhaps, the older self kills the younger. But she must face the possibility that in killing off her younger self she also poisons herself. The dream ego steps in just in time to save her, but not without some reservation.