Not Quite Ready

Just because your unconscious points something out doesn’t mean you are entirely ready to accept it. It probably does mean you will be.

The Dream: I’m about to have a party. The house is not ready and I don’t know what to serve.

Interpretation: I’m having trouble entertaining all the unconscious elements that are emerging due to my dream work. The ego (the house) is not prepared for the integration (let’s party!) of these new elements (the guests).

Halfway There

Jung tells us that a circle represents the center of creative change.

The Dream: A half circle with radiating triangles.

Interpretation: The triangle traditionally represents things that come in threes such as father, mother and child. This suggests I’m putting older things together to produce something new. But since a circle signifies wholeness, I’m only halfway there.

What is Woman?

Jung calls our inner versions of people their imagos; these live in us and are part of us. Besides carrying the person they represent, in this dream the imagos reflect my earliest ideas of what it means to be a woman.

The Dream: In a hotel room with three double beds in a line. My mother and my aunt Ann share the center bed. Mother chooses this particular bed because, she says, she “won’t need to get out.”

Interpretation: At the center of my being are two archaic versions of femininity, represented by my mother and my aunt. The mother: giving, nurturing, relentless in her control and supervision, self-sacrificing, beautiful, a care-taker. The aunt: single, childless, demanding, flamboyant, artistic, temperamental.  I need to update my conceptual framework! The two empty double beds leave me room for other, happier couplings.

Mix and Match

Have you ever said of someone, “he’s like two different people”? Well, he’s not alone; we all are. And when you think of all your different ancestors, each contributing a bit of DNA, it’s not a surprise. One of the functions of dreams is to help us reconcile our own inner opposites. When this happens Jung calls it a conjuntio.

The Dream: A table is covered with a white linen cloth and set with my good china, a Lenox pattern called Castle Garden. There is a vase on the table, also Lenox, but a different pattern. It has a flower on one side and a Chinese-inspired dragon on the other. I fret over whether these two patterns, with their very different motifs, look good together. After a while I conclude that despite their thematic difference, the pieces harmonize—by design.

Interpretation: The Chinese motif has come up in many of my dreams and represents my unconscious, feeling, intuitive aspect. Dragons in western folklore are forces to be defeated; they can represent what is untamed, fierce, passionate. In this dream the lovely and serene castle garden becomes an expanded self-awareness that can co-exist—even harmonize--with the Chinese dragon.

Cells

Jung tells us that what he calls the individuation process is the “spontaneous realization” of the whole person. Certain dreams are signposts of the process.

The Dream: A visual image reminds me of cells. In shades of pale green and beige, the linear elements are made of tightly strung beads.

Interpretation: The fragments of my being are becoming integrated into a structured and cohesive unit.

Written on the Body

Once we have attained middle age Jung tells us that our job is to come to terms with our own mortality.

The Dream: Clark and I are at the airport with lots of baggage. We’ve taken some of this into the terminal but most of our carry on is still in our parked van, which has been painted black. We go for a walk. When we return the van is gone—a woman has taken it to search for her dog, which someone has kidnapped. We go in search of her.

I am anxious. There is increased security at the airports and we must check in an hour ahead. I don’t feel any sympathy for the woman searching for her dog, but I hope she finds the animal so we can get the rest of our things and get on with it. I worry we’ll lose our parking spot by the time she returns.
Finally we find her and re-park the van. I notice the lock to my door is on the outside of the window, which seems useless.

Part of our luggage consists of t-shirt fragments printed with genealogical information and punctuated with blocks of color.

Interpretation: The unconscious is struggling with the idea of mortality (the imminent airplane ride will take me off the planet). This makes the dream ego anxious and uncomfortable. The missing animal embodies the primal aspects of life: sex, birth, death. I want to put the vehicle of change (van) back into its parking place. When the woman returns the van its lock has moved to the outside: once we’ve gained the knowledge of life and death it’s impossible to lock out what we know. The t-shirts symbolize our DNA, which maps our reality. Our past and future is encoded there: written on the body (thank you, Jeanette Winterson).  But perhaps it’s not the whole story?

What are the Issues?

While dreams often take their cue from the things around us—TV shows, politics, what we’re working on—often the dream’s message can only be unraveled by looking underneath the apparent activity.

The Dream: I ask Heidi, “Are you going to vote for McIrney [sic]?” I have a hard time getting his name right. Heidi doesn’t know who he is, and I explain that he is running against Pombo. She doesn’t know who Pombo is either. I explain that Pombo is anti-environment, and I try to make the case for voting for McIrney; I want to get the overly pro-business Pombo out of office. I am surprised that Heidi knows so little about the candidates; I expected her to be more sophisticated.

Interpretation: Names are important here; the dream emphasizes this several times. First there is the misspelled McIrney (Mc Earn E) and then there is Heidi (Hide E). Am I hiding from my own discomfort at not earning any money (a constant struggle in the arts)? The dream ego doesn’t like the pro-business candidate, and Hide E doesn’t understand the issues. Oh dear.