Something Grates

The Dream: We have a guest cottage on the property. Three standing grates have been installed to keep people from inadvertently falling into holes. We have some visitors staying in the cottage, and when we drop in to visit we notice they've replaced these decorative black wrought-iron grates with larger ones made of an unattractive gray plastic. This seems presumptuous on another's property and, besides that, I'm not sure they are properly installed.

Interpretation: The standing grates represent three issues, of long standing, that I find irritating (grating), but that I have avoided with a cover up rather than a fix. The guests (something from the outside; for example, distractions) try to fix this by putting covers over the the pits I could fall into. They want to keep me safe, but in the end the dream teaches me that my salvation won't come from the outside: the new “protectors” are unattractive, gray (ambiguous), and not properly installed. When I react to the guests' efforts as being “presumptuous” I acknowledge that this is not the solution. I must take a good look at the holes, figure out what caused them, and fix them properly rather than cover them up.

Guest Dream: Killing Gophers

Today's guest dream has been contributed by Emily, who often adds insightful comments to my dreams.

Emily's Dream: The overall scenario is the need to kill gophers. As I walk, I come across Phil Cooper, a member of my church, who is getting frustrated with trying to kill the gophers. The gophers made perfect circles in the mounds of brown dirt surrounding Phil. He tells me they have made over 300 holes in his yard! One way to kill gophers is to use raw pork with poison in it.. I only see one or two pieces of this raw pork, and I see that Phil has put perfectly circular cuts of poison in the thickest part of the meat. I know he didn't have to use such an expensive cut of meat, but I don't have the heart to tell him this. The size of the gopher holes and the poison pieces in the meat is the same.

Shift: A woodpecker, perhaps an acorn woodpecker, except larger, is eating bugs off a tree or a wooden side of a building which my husband has sprayed with gopher poison. I worry that bird will get traces of poison in his system by eating the bugs off the area sprayed. Suddenly, the bird reaches out and grabs a swallowtail butterfly which happens to fly by. I'm surprised he was able to do this - it was as if he reached out with arms to catch it, although I don't see anything like arms on him. As I look more closely at the bird, I see is he holding the butterfly somehow, perhaps how an insect would grab something with his forelegs to hold it and eat it. I see that this bird is eating the "meaty" or "body" part of the butterfly. Its yellow wings are drooping to the sides of his body.

Carla's thoughts: In reacting to Emily's dream I'll interpret it as if it were one of my own. There are many possible meanings in this (or any) dream. I'm going to write about the one that jumped out at me.

A slang expression for someone who performs tedious, low level tasks is a “gopher.” I am tired of these sorts of tasks, and I need to get them out of my life (kill them). I have some ambivalence about freeing myself from these unwelcome duties, which fill (Phil) my time and coop (Cooper) me up. The church represents the part of me that feels these imposed tasks are the right and good thing to do; the circles represent my being circumscribed, or contained, in a place where I don't want to be. The mounds of brown earth evoke excrement: I'm tired of being in the middle of all this shit! The poison in the middle of the circles of raw (me)at tell me just how strong my feelings about this situation are, and its expensive price tells me how much this is costing me.

When the dream shifts I, in the form of a bird, am pecking at this inflexible (wooden) problem. It's certainly bugging me, to the point that my attempt to solve it (by pecking away at it) endangers me. Even in my own home (the building my husband has sprayed) there's the threat of more “go for” poison. Then the dream shows me the path of my transformation: As a bird I am a winged creature (symbolic of the soul), and I reach out and ingest yet another creature that represents the soul, a butterfly. By swallowing the swallowtail the dream tells me my personal means of transformation (taking in the spiritual) is important, and it reminds me to nurture my soul.

Empathy in an Artifact

The Dream: I’m in a foreign country. A woman is digging in a sandy spot, with water puddling in the hole as she digs. The location is a city square. It isn’t green, with trees and grass, but more like a European town square with packed sandy earth.  At one point I hear that we are in Mesopotamia, and at another that we are in a Mediterranean country.

I watch the woman dig; her action seems inappropriate, considering how she is dressed and her age: she’s middle class and middle aged. I become excited and say, “When I lived in England I wrote a novel, and I got the idea for it doing what you’re doing: I was digging with my children.” 

Clark says, “You can often find artifacts.” He begins to dig in or near the woman’s spot and in short order extracts a circular clay piece with what appears to be a primitive god in the center. I wonder if we can keep this interesting object or whether we are legally required to turn it in. I want it.

Later we are sitting at a table, the three of us. Clark is to my right; the woman to my left. When Clark passes the artifact to me I plan to slip it into my carrier bag. He hands it to me, but rather than the clay sculpture it is a picture of the artifact on shiny photographic paper, with a list of the god’s attributes to the right. There are four, and the 3^rd one is “empathy.”

 “Empathy?” I think. “That’s an odd trait for a primitive god.”

Interpretation: Something is coming up from underneath. The puddling water tells me that unconscious material is coming to the surface. To start, let’s take a look at the geometric symbols in this dream: there’s the city “square,” the round clay artifact and the square table where we later sit. The square and the circle are both symbols of what Jung calls the Self, in other words, the combination my consciousness (what I’m aware of) and my unconscious (what I’m unaware of thinking or feeling). Dream are road maps, telling us where we are on the path to individuation, another Jungian term for the process of incorporating our unconscious material into our conscious awareness. 

The middle aged woman is me, digging into my dreams and bringing unconscious material to the surface. When I am joined by my husband Clark (my other half) and my children (the curious, experimental, engaged parts of myself) an artifact (a long-buried, but new to me, part of myself) quickly appears. This is something I want, even though I have some qualms about my right to have it.

Later, at the table (have the gifts from the unconscious been tabled?), I plot to steal the artifact. But I can’t do it. It turns into a representation of itself, becoming as ephemeral as the dream that engendered it.  But it does have a message for me, “Empathy.”

Guest Dreamer: My Dazzle is in a Hole

Angelina has sent us a dream about her dog Dazzle, who came to her through the Golden Retriever Rescue Association about 8 months ago.

The Dream: Last week I dreamed that Dazzle was in the house and let me know that she wanted to go outside as she usually does.  I let her out through the sliding door to the back yard which, oddly enough, looked very different.  There was a huge hole about fifty feet in circumference and about five feet deep.  Dazzle was in the hole when I went outside, and it was unclear to me if she had been hurt or was just resting.  Her eyes were closed; she was reclining and didn’t pay any attention to me.  I was frightened and just wanted to get her out of the hole.  I was afraid to go into the hole since I didn't feel I would be able to get out on my own or to save her.  I thought of putting something into the hole to grab her but nothing was available to me that I could see working.  When I woke up I was so relieved to know that it was all just a dream.

Carla's interpretation: In my version of Angelina’s dream the first thing I’ll take a look at is what my dog represents. What traits does my dog embody? She’s joyful, loving, full of life, dependent. She’s an animal, so she operates at an unconscious, instinctive level. She lives in the present, with no concept of past or future. In my dream, she is the part of me that shares these traits.

Where does the action take place? Jungians see the front garden as representing the persona, or the part we show publicly, and the backyard as the place where the soul lives. My joyful spontaneous part has fallen into a hole; my innermost being needs nurturing. Dazzle initially came to me because I rescued her, and I want to rescue her now but find I can’t. My dream is telling me to let go of rescuing others for a while and to focus instead on taking care of myself.

Why do I think so? In the dream Dazzle is paying no attention to me (she doesn’t want my help). I don’t think I can get out of the hole on my own (I need some help). My fear is making it difficult for me to solve the problem, and I don’t have any practical solutions (nothing is available to me). If I can let sleeping dogs lie (not try to fix everything) I think the hole will become whole, and my Dazzle (sparkle) will wake up, get out of the hole, and shine forth as usual.

Not A Black Hole

The Dream: I’m cleaning the kitchen floor. I notice how much cleaner it is where I’ve mopped so I keep going, even though we have company. As I work across the floor a hole opens up in the middle of the room: a dark, earth-colored, earth-sided hole which descends to depths unknown.

I am alarmed and point this out to Clark. He reassures me that this is nothing to worry about, but I’m concerned that I could have fallen in at any time. He knew the hole was there all along but was not alarmed. He says that it wouldn’t be so disastrous if I did fall in, that it really isn’t so deep. “There’s a spiral staircase and an area with light,” he says. “It’s not a black hole.” I don’t buy it, although I do have a glimpse of what he’s talking about for a moment. Later I notice he’s put a table over the area.

Interpretation: Kitchens in dreams are often places where transformation takes place. I’m busy with a mundane task, cleaning the floor, when it seems I ought to be enjoying my guests. My task is interrupted by an unexpected event: a hole in the floor. On the one hand, this hole smacks of the grave, with its earth color and its scary descent to the unknown. On the other hand, Clark, who represents my other half, is very comfortable with what seems to me a major problem. Clark tells me there is something to be gained from descending into this unknown world; he tells me this is where I’ll find light (spiritual illumination). The spiral staircase he mentions evokes our nightly descent into the unconscious.
Something about this realm frightens me, although I have an inkling that what he says might be true. He does not insist, but “tables” the discussion. The hole (whole) remains, even if covered, awaiting the moment I’m brave enough to explore it.

Living at the Ritz

The Dream: Clark has bought a ski condo at the Ritz building in Manhattan. It is on Central Park South, facing the Park. Our condo is on a top floor and can be accessed only by going up ladders and through openings which look like holes in the ceiling. I find this method of access scary and cumbersome. Once I get up there, I wonder, how frightening will it be to come down?

When we finally get to our condo it’s very large, but dirty—stuffed with old furniture from previous occupants. It’s in need of a paint job, cleaning, clearing out. I’m not sure how this can be done, since there is no elevator and only a small entrance.

I’m in the lobby of the very fancy building, with uniformed doormen scurrying about. At first I feel quite classy for being a resident of such a place, but when I go outside to look at the building I see a marked change between the lower floors and the floor our condo is on. Our floor looks shabby, and it occurs to me that it must have been the servants’ quarters, which explains why it must be accessed with ladders.

I discover, however, that I can take the main staircase up to all but the very top floor. To get to the top I must still use a ladder, made of rope and hanging from the attic. I discover some workmen in the hall who are dealing with the mess upstairs, or attempting to.

Clark is quite pleased with the purchase of this condo, which he made without consulting me. He was uncharacteristically quick to buy it. When I reenter the condo, armed with my insight that it must originally have been the servants' area, I notice that, nevertheless, the ceilings are very high.

Interpretation: In my previous dream I faced my desire for wealth and fame; this dream takes the process forward. The part of me that deals with the world, what Jung calls my animus, is represented by Clark who has bought a ski condo at the top of the Ritz in Manhattan. That’s a pretty clear image of success! But the fly in the ointment soon emerges, as I discover the practical difficulties inherent in this success: it’s difficult to attain (must climb up ropes and go through hoops (holes) to get there, and once I do it’s messy and dirty. And was attaining this sort of success even my idea? The dream hints it isn’t, since my place is crammed with things from the past, put there by others.

To top it off, this success is a sham. My marvelous condo at the top of the Ritz looks shabby when I stand back and look at it, and I discover it once housed servants. But the situation is being worked on. Once my inner workmen clear out the debris left by others and I stop running after a version of success that is not true for me I start to notice the good things about where I am. The ceilings are, after all, impressively high.

The Box Turtle

The Dream: I see a turtle emerging from the snake hole of the previous post. First I see its head and I’m alarmed, intrigued. Then its body emerges, which is inside a box. It shuffles itself and its box across the ground. Something about it is off-putting.

Interpretation: I think my unconscious has lost patience with me: “If you want to stay in your box, go ahead! But you look ridiculous!” Change and growth are never easy . . . . 

A Hole in the Wood

Your unconscious is a clever wordsmith. If you pay close attention to the words in your dream it will help you figure out what your "inner you" is trying to say.
 
The Dream: There is an opening in a large piece of wood that’s part of a house. The shape of the hole is like a knothole that has fallen out, but it feels more like the wood has separated leaving a gaping hole. I go away, perhaps to find help, and when I return the hole has filled with water. I am very alarmed and holler for Clark. Later, with Mother’s assistance, I am making repairs to a house that needs them.

Interpretation: There’s an interesting play on words here. A hole (whole) and a knot hole (not whole). My house, which represents me, has opened--which is a good thing if we think in terms of someone opening up as opposed to being closed or shutting down. However, it’s clear I’m not comfortable with this; that the hole is filled with water tells me the alarming opening probably has to do with my emotions coming to the fore. I get help from my other half (Clark), and then I can begin to make myself whole (repair the house). Since Mother assists me, the painful emotions being healed probably relate to my grief at her death.