Thirst

The Dream: This dream builds on and resolves the two previous. I'm at a banquet with Clark and others. I keep refilling my wine glass. I don't know why I'm drinking so much. At one point I take a nearly empty bottle and attempt to drain it into my already full glass. Clark gently admonishes me with a comment on how much I'm drinking. I know it's too much, yet it seems a sort of compulsion. To try to justify my behavior I say, “The bottle was almost empty. I was just trying to finish it off.” I show him that there is very little wine left in the bottle. Nevertheless, there is more than can make it into my glass.

Interpretation: In Hunger there is not enough to satisfy basic needs. In Thirst  there is too much, more than I can consume even though I greedily attempt it. The night before this dream I had watched one of Jung's clips on Death, in which he says we must live life as though it continues. To think so makes us feel better and live better, so it is the natural thing to do. Hearing his thoughts between the two dreams changed something in my thinking. From a place of no satisfaction I go to a place of excess, more than I can safely indulge in, or take in.

Looking for a Florentine Cathedral

The Dream: I am wandering around in a vast underground space trying to find the entrance to a particular Florentine Church. Often I am misdirected. I ask people, and they send me to areas of a labyrinthine building that I have already fruitlessly explored. At one point a college friend is with me, very pleased because a man has given her an open bottle of wine with about a third remaining. She happily swills from the bottle. I suggest she's being foolish: who knows what contaminant it might contain?

At one point we're directed into a particular church, and it almost seems almost right, but not quite. The decoration is Florentine; there are very large flowers around the interior. We peek inside another church and see a performance taking place—that's not right either. I feel anxious. I'm going to be late. I hope to get to the right church before time runs out.

Interpretation: Florence is associated with the Renaissance, rebirth. I'm searching at an unconscious (underground) level for my spiritual rebirth. No one can direct me; their suggestions lead to dead ends. I'm running out of time to find my spiritual home, the place where I feel I am expected and have a role to play. The wine offered by a person who has no guidance to give might be dangerous. One part of me wants to enjoy its superficial pleasure, while another is cautious.

What am I Looking For?

The Dream: I see my friend with a drink and want a glass of wine, even though I've just finished one and feel slightly tipsy. I go to the circular bar, in a room that separates the one I'm in from an adjoining theater. From the entry it looks as if I need to circle around to the back to get the bartender's attention, but once I do I realize that's not right: I need to go back to the place where I started. As I get near the bar—my turn is next—an older lady and her daughter shove in front of me. “I'm next,” I tell them. They don't seem offended, but on the other hand while they smile and appear to acquiesce, they push past me and get the bartender's attention.

The bar staff, in stage makeup, leave the bar to join the troupe in the theater. A woman, in particular, is clownishly made up—very white skin, with a little bow mouth. She's dressed like a flapper in pinkish lavender with cheeks and curly hair to match. She's middle-aged or older. The man's style matches hers. They resemble Otto Dix caricatures.

I'm left standing at the deserted bar, still waiting for my drink. On their way out one of bartenders says, “Look at yourself, you're ridiculous.” Then I realize how silly I look, futilely standing at the deserted bar waiting to be waited on.

I leave, in search of –I don't know what. I go into room after room of bunk beds, many of them filled with couples lying together suggestively, no doubt having sex, but discreetly. Some are alone in these bunk beds, all occupied, all jammed close together. People are covered with blankets, yet I have a strong sense that something is going on underneath. I notice one couple: the young woman has long blond braids. I feel intrusive and uncomfortable, and I'm not finding whatever it is I'm looking for.

Interpretation: As the dream begins I look to numb myself: I want a drink even though I'm already tipsy. There's something I want to avoid. If there's a bar that prevents me from seeing what I need to see, there's also a bar to my numbing myself, and in this dream the literal bar is central to the action. Everything conspires to deprive me of my soporific—others press ahead of me, and the bartenders go off duty. As a parting shot they tell me I'm ridiculous (like the Otto Dix characters), and I have to admit they're right.

Having accepted their assessment of what I'm doing, I go in search of the thing I need. I discover people in intimate relationships—all jammed together. I realize that something is going on underneath (in my unconscious) that I've been unaware of. The dream hints that what I've missed, what's going on underneath, is a passionate wish for connection, symbolized here by sexual union.

Is Anatomy Destiny?

The Dream: I am at a dance with Clark. Women are wearing décolleté gowns that remind me of Anna's ballgown in The King and I. A man places a wine bottle into the neckline of a woman's dress; I wonder if it will fall out. Soon afterward as I bend forward I notice my nipple protruding from my own low cut gown. Soon my partner and I are having sex, during the dance, fully clothed. He says, “I almost came as I entered,” at the same time that I am thinking, “I won't be able to have an orgasm in this position.”

Interpretation: I'm not in the right place (out in public) or in the right position to achieve the release I'm desiring. I feel exposed (my nipple protrudes). I associate femininity with providing nourishment, but also with something else: what does the wine bottle represent? Dionysian exuberance or numbness? The bottle is in a precarious position where it's been thrust by an unknown male, just as patriarchy thrusts its insistence that women nurture even as we try to dance. The sex, or union, that results in this situation can hardly be satisfactory. The dream tells me that I must have the inner strength to define my own role, to create my own position. It's time to stop wearing the clothes of a previous era.

Water or wine?

According to Jung, the goal of our nightly dream journey is to bring to consciousness as much of our potential totality as we can. And what, you are probably asking, is this potential totality? According to Jung it’s:

• the conscious (what you are thinking about);
• the subconscious (the name of your 4th grade teacher: you could think of it if you tried);
• the personal unconscious (personal memories we’re unaware of); 
• and the collective unconscious (species memories; symbols we respond to that are buried in our ancestral history).

Jung calls the process of increasing our awareness and integrating the often opposed internal factions individuation, and the expanded psyche he terms the self. As you go on this journey you will become aware of your own disparate elements, and occasionally you might notice some push back from them, as illustrated in this dream.

The Dream: On a sightseeing tour with a group, we stop to eat in a restaurant. I am concerned that Clark and I will have to pick up the tab for the entire group and they will eat too much. The food is not very expensive, but the drinks are. I wish I had ordered only water, but then, as the hostess, would I appear niggardly? I think of a solution that might have worked: I could have ordered the water after everyone had put in their order. Then the others would not feel constrained by my example.

When we return to the limousine the keys are in the ignition. Clark is the driver, but he is not here. I sit in the front passenger seat and worry that anyone could hop into the vehicle and make off with it.

Interpretation: The ego needs a rest (rest-aurant) from this psychic activity. It fears paying the price for all this activation and isn’t comfortable ceding power to the other components of the psyche. The ego discovers that its sustenance (food) is not so expensive: I can give them this much. But keeping them numb (the effect of alcohol, i.e. drink) is expensive. I wish I had stayed unconscious (ordered water). I decide to let them have what they want as long as I can remain unconscious. This results in no more movement, as the initial stop (at the restaurant) predicted.  My driver does not reappear. But on the positive side: the keys are in the ignition, and we’re ready to go.