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.

A Crown of Thornes

The Dream: Clark is getting his teeth worked on. The dentist is very casual, but reasonably priced. He seems old-fashioned. Clark has a tooth crowned, and the procedure doesn't look too bad. He needs to have another capped and is waffling. I ask the dentist if the procedure will be similar to the one he just finished, hoping he'll say yes so that Clark will be reassured and get on with it. But the dentist indicates it will be worse. The second tooth is not fixed.

Interpretation: In any long standing marriage there will be on-going differences in the way we approach problems. This dream is telling me that while I think I know what's best for my husband—and while what I'm pushing for might be the inevitable right choice (getting the tooth crowned)--what I'm not understanding is how much pain, for him, is involved in doing this thing.

You Don’t Know Me

Look at the people who populate your dreams and see how they fit into your inner landscape.

The Dream: A friend of my older brother is visiting. She has blond curly hair and is slightly heavy-set with a round face. I like her and feel that she has become my friend as well.

My friend Patsy appears, coming up from the basement. She is pleased with herself for pulling off this surprise visit; her face is very expressive. “Patsy!” I exclaim, “What are you doing here?” She teases me about that ungracious welcome. Of course I am thrilled to see her and realize that I have been wondering how she is. She indicates that she simply decided to make the trip at the last minute. “I can go to the dentist here,” she says. I look forward to a few days of visiting and entertainment and am glad to notice that my compulsion to work, and my usual annoyance or resentment at being interrupted, are nowhere in evidence.

My brother’s friend is leaving, and I want to hug her. I say, “It’s been wonderful getting to know you better.” She says, enigmatically, “You don’t know me at all.”

Interpretation:  My older brother represents my authoritarian, competent part. His friend, since it is someone I don’t know in my waking life, represents my intuitive side. Her light colored hair tells me that she is symbolic of awareness or enlightenment. Another friend appears, unexpectedly, coming up from the basement (unconscious). Her remark about the dentist hints that she is associated with pain.

All aspects of my personality--the work-oriented, the intuitive, and the spontaneous—are coming together here. Patsy hints it won’t be all fun and games—there’s that worrisome trip to the dentist: that might indicate I have to work on something associated with my mouth, like what sometimes comes out of it. Nevertheless we’re all set to party, which sounds like one of Jung’s coniunctios.  At the same time I get a warning from the Enlightened One that lets me know I have work to do before I can call her a friend.