The Complications of Eradicating Evil

The Dream: Some very evil men can’t be controlled. My husband Clark decides to murder them. Their bodies are placed upright in a public space, as if embedded into a curtain that surrounds a public square. We wait for them to be discovered and to see what sort of public reaction there will be. Clark is convinced he’s done the right thing and has the courage of his certainty. I’m nervous and unsure. Who will back us up? Who will turn us in? Who knows?

Interpretation: This is a dream about something we confront every day as we listen to the news: evil people commit evil deeds; what can I do about it? In the dream my public, active side, represented by my husband (my other half), takes action. My introverted, more reflective, less impulsive side (represented by the dream ego) is not sure the action taken was a good idea. 

A more complicated ethical dilemma arises: we’ve covered up (veiled) our action. By privately making a decision for the group (the public) we risk alienating ourselves from the society we live in. Taking action has left us hanging out, much like our victims.

And then there’s another way to look at the dream: what evil part of myself am I veiling from public view? And isn’t the evil hidden in my breast the most difficult to eradicate? Partially because even I can’t see it: it’s veiled, embedded and enclosed!

Death of the Attached Baby

The Dream: I am in a dune-like area. The sea is implied, but not seen. There is a modern road through the dunes, with a sidewalk and the sort of empty bus stop often seen in the suburbs. I wander here for a while, waiting for one of my husband’s colleagues. He works at a nearby high-tech scientific installation which will soon be dismissing its employees for the day.

It’s 5:00 o’clock, and the lab workers file out of the simple, modern building, about seven stories tall. I am with a woman who has just had a baby. She resembles an artist friend. She is obviously thrilled with her baby, and at first all seems okay; but it soon becomes clear that the baby is still physically attached to her mother—through the mother’s hand. They share capillaries. Then the shocker: we realize the baby has died.

Some medical technicians come and take the baby away. They wrap the baby in newspaper secured with twine; they throw her off a dump truck into a garbage bin. I am appalled. Why wasn’t the baby returned to the family for a respectful and loving funeral?

Back to the mother: She is now attended by her sister, a plain-looking German woman with short cropped strawberry blond hair. The sister is very upset and doesn’t feel the mother is adequately distraught. I know the mother is upset, but in a less effusive way than her sister. I put my arm around the German woman and walk her a few steps away, trying both to comfort her and to keep her from making a bad situation worse.

Interpretation: In the beginning of the dream I am in an intuitive, unconscious state (the sea, the dunes). But progress soon asserts itself in the form of a road, sidewalk, bus stop, and high-tech laboratory. This symbolically plots my early life, my personal progress between the ages of five and seven, which are the two numbers in the dream. During this time I moved from the idyll of a happy 5-year-old child living in a beautiful rural setting to the challenge of starting school and being subjected to the discipline and socialization that entails. At this age we still hold our mother’s hand. That the baby is not completely detached from the mother reflects the wrench that I felt on starting this new phase of life.

Then the dream veers into the present. How do I know? The mother resembles one of my current artist friends: this tells me the issue here is not entirely in the past. The baby, representing my authentic artist self at a critical juncture of my life (between 5 and 7), is carted away by technicians (the school system) and dumped. The dead baby’s crude disposal reminds me of a scene from the movie Amadeus. When Mozart dies he is given a pauper’s burial. The reusable casket opens at one end like a dump truck and his unsheltered body thuds into an open pit, a common grave. How could my baby artist expect any better?

The mother (my adult artist, the compromiser) accepts the death of her own potential with an equanimity that baffles her sister, the German woman, whose geographical proximity to the home of the Austrian Mozart tells me her opinion is important. But in my role as Dream Ego, I try my best to shut her up and keep her from making waves.

Yet again, the voice that seems most difficult in my dream is the one I need to listen to.

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.