Moving Past Judgment

The Dream: I'm packing items as if for a move. Nearby is a judge's high desk; seated behind it is an attractive robed black woman, the Judge. She asks me if I am ready for the earthquake. I say I am, and that I can vouch for the packed items being properly prepared. I am surprised at my confidence. She is personable and friendly, yet I realize that despite this I must honor her position, so I tack on “your honor” at the end of my statement.

I tell her that Clark and I have a plane to catch. She asks me when I need to be at the airport and I say 1:00 pm, but then I realize that's when the plane is leaving, and I should leave earlier. She tells me it's 11:00 am now; I begin to feel panicky.

Interpretation: Many of the images in this dream suggest that a profound change in the psyche is working its way up to consciousness. I've prepared for a move. (I've packed properly.) The judge is black, a color denoting mystery and the workings of the unconscious. She's clearly admirable and respected--a guide. While her opinion is not to be taken lightly, she is helpful rather than critical, and I am allowed to feel confident.

She signals that big changes are in the works by asking me if I am ready for the earthquake (an earth-shattering event). When I say I am, and let her know I'm ready to make my move (catch the plane), she lets me know it's later than I think. At this point I lose my confidence. I'm not as ready for change as I had hoped.

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.

Not Ready to Go

The Dream: I am at the airport. The plane is at the gate. Its interior has only a few seats; it seems truncated, for example, only the first class section. Yet it feels spacious; the seats are white leather. No one is on the plane—no crew, no passengers, no gate keepers even. I decide to use the toilet but find I can’t go. After a while I must have produced a little something so I decide to flush. Immediately I feel this would be a mistake because the toilets are like train toilets and will flush directly onto the tarmac, which might not be too pleasant for those loading the plane. I stay on the toilet for a while, trying to produce more output and having very little success.

At last I leave the toilet and as I open the door I encounter a maintenance man who had been patiently waiting to clean the room. I’m embarrassed and apologize; he seems long suffering. Had I known he was there I would have cut short my visit.

Up in the Air

This dream tells me that I’m in an uncomfortable situation, even though my inner goody-two-shoes tries to deny it.

The Dream: I’m in an airplane with Colleen. She has made the arrangements. The plane has odd windows: no glass, but very small open slats. Nor does it have seats. I complain about all this until Colleen gets fed up and moves to another part of the aircraft.

 I manage to get a seat at last: it's a rust-colored leather office chair. I think some other kind would be more comfortable for the flight, so I join others in the front of the cabin where the flight crew is selling better seats.

Interpretation: My friend Colleen represents what Jung calls the collective conscious, or the part of us governed by the rules and mores of society. Colleen goes to church, volunteers, works hard: in short, she behaves. The dream is telling me that she is the part of me that is in charge of what’s currently going on in my life. (She has made the arrangements.) And I don’t like it. The windows of the place where she has put me resemble the bars of a prison, and there is nowhere to sit (rest).

To make matters worse, my inner Colleen demands a cheerful acquiescence to these unpleasant circumstances—no complaints! After all, we’re on a higher (air) plane here.

The less well behaved part of me is thoroughly frustrated. When I finally do get a seat it’s not a place to rest, but rather a place to work (it’s an office chair). But the situation isn’t helpless; the crew is selling seats, and I’m on my way to try to get a more comfortable one.

City of Brotherly Love

The transformation that started with the dream of the mouse lady has progressed, as this dream shows. That it isn’t complete will become obvious with the dream I'll post next time.

The Dream: Clark and I have jumped from the back deck of an airplane, where we were guided by a flight attendant. She waves from the deck as we parachute down into Pennsylvania, our arms linked. I’m nervous, but not terrified, and Clark is calm and confident. I get a new worry: what if we land in a lake? Clark says this is a possibility, since there are a lot of rivers, lakes and steams in the state.

We land safely and are enthusiastically welcomed by the locals. We’ve landed in a rural-looking area, but I understand that it is part of Philadelphia.

Interpretation: Myths often have guides--fairy godmothers or goddesses like Athena--that help the hero attain the prize. In this dream, the flight attendant guides me and my other half (Clark) to the spot for the necessary action: learning that jumping in with both feet can be the right thing to do. No mouse lady here, despite my worry about an immersion into the unconscious “state” (Pennsylvania’s water). As we land safely there are accolades from the locals, telling me that I’ve achieved something my inner selves applaud. There is a rapprochement between me and my other half (Jung calls him my animus) signaled by our landing in the City of Brother Love.

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?