Does the Coat Still Fit?

What is the price of social acceptance? Today’s dream, a variation on the theme of my last post, discovers the source of “social security.”

The Dream: I’ve left a beautiful coat that my mother made for me in a restaurant. She has embroidered my name into its lining. My Aunt Jenya—famous in the family for her mercurial artistic temperament--has died, and I’ve been given nothing of hers. I regret this, because I think some of her things represent treasures of old Russia and would be wonderful to have. I go back to the restaurant and retrieve the coat.

Interpretation: The coat is the protective warmth of a loving parent. I almost lose it by my association with the difficult aunt, who represents my unpleasant, out-spoken, aggressive side. But it turns out I have none of her qualities (I’ve been given nothing of hers). Because I have none of these (I’ve repressed my “difficult” personality traits) I can go back to the place of sustenance, the restaurant, and wrap myself once again in maternal approval. But—by repressing the negative qualities this aunt represents, am I also repressing her good qualities (her artistic talent)? Maybe I’ve outgrown the coat.

The Frog and the Baby

The Dream: An earlier dream about a frog morphed into one about an adorable baby, whose diaper I’m having a lot of trouble changing. I mention to no one in particular that it was not such a problem when I had to change my own children.  The baby is very patient. By the time I get her clean diaper on I think she’s already wet herself again, but I don’t want to investigate that too far because I’d have to go through the trouble of another change. Her parent is going to take her someplace in a convertible, so I place her on the back seat, propped up like a papoose. Then I think better of it, fearing she might go flying out and come to harm. I suggest to the parent that we put her on the floor of the backseat. He comes to look to make sure the spot is a good one and that she will fit into it, and then concurs.

Interpretation: This dream is about some part of me that I don’t like becoming acceptable. The appearance of the frog tips the dream’s hand: in the fairy tale the despised frog turns into a prince. The nascent part of myself (the baby) presents me with some difficulties (she is hard to change), and I underline the difficulty when I comment that my own children were “not such a problem.” After a struggle I am successful in changing the baby, but the effect doesn’t last: she immediately wets herself. This tells me she represents a persistent part of my unconscious, and one that I would rather not take a look at. (I don’t want to investigate that too far.)

But one way or another, change is going to take place. A parent (male) arrives in a convertible (a car that converts, i.e., changes). I hand the newly emergent part of myself (the baby) off to this animus figure (the part of me that deals with the outside world). Both my animus and I seek to protect this newly formed, or discovered, part. However, as we protect her we also put her in the backseat, on the floor, where she can’t be seen--or get into trouble.

For a dream featuring a baby and a spider see Baby and Spider
For other dreams featuring frogs see My Inner Frog and Pass It On

The Fortune Tellers

Dreams do their job whether or nor we’re aware of it, and whether or not we remember them. It’s interesting to watch this mysterious and powerful psychic force at work in those dreams we do remember. The next three posts are good examples.

The Dream: I am in a group of four. The others in the group are my younger brother and two children. We are performing some sort of ritual which the local people think will foretell their future. We feel like charlatans; our scientific backgrounds tell us this is hokum, but the people are lined up as far as the eye can see, awaiting our pronouncements. We look at one another knowingly and hopelessly. We can’t get out of it, so we proceed.

There are some odd implements involved in our process. One is a long pipe, red with rust. Another is a nondescript, passive, slightly plump brown-haired girl. She uses the pipe as a catapult, and we foretell events depending on where she lands.

Interpretation: A younger brother and children are both symbols of vulnerability, emphasizing its importance in this dream. The two children also suggest the possibility of growth. Four is a significant number for Jung, who sees it as representing a kind of completeness, as in the four corners that make a square, the four directions (North, East, South, and West) or the four seasons.  So what do I have so far? Some phase of my life is complete (the number four). I am vulnerable, and it’s time for me to grow. I’m being asked to do the impossible: foretell the future, and there is considerable social pressure that I do so, even though I know I can’t. The rusty pipe (pipes connect things; rusty implies old) tells me that this is a conundrum from the past, perhaps the feelings of a child who thinks she can’t fulfill parental expectations. There’s some hope I’ll grow past this feeling of inadequacy by jumping (catapulting) beyond it. But how it turns out will depend on where I land.

Pass it on

The Dream: My brother points out an ant on his kitchen counter, saying its behavior is interesting and I should take a look. The ant crawls into a small open-topped cube with dirt on its floor. Once in the box the ant lays a cylindrical egg which hatches—and out pops a tiny frog. The frog hops out of the box, then hops back in and is transformed into a caterpillar—which lays an egg and out pops an ant. The cycle repeats over and over again. I become aware that human life is a chain made up of the same life being repeated over and over again. Child and parent are the same. We are too close to the situation to see it clearly.

Interpretation: The unconscious is offering up a bit of philosophy here. Since having this dream I’ve come to see my life as “an instance of life.” In other words, I see myself as a carrier of the life force. For me, this makes mortality bearable: I carry the torch; I pass it on.