Matrignosis: A Blog About Inner Wisdom

Think Pyschologically; Live Spiritually

The 52nd Week December 29, 2014

Izzie and Bear
Izzie and Bear

I love the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. It has always stood out from the other 51 weeks in a year like a peaceful Zen garden, a special oasis where I attend to soul needs that require annual closure.

During the 80’s when I was juggling parenting with college teaching, I often spent this week assembling and basting together sandwiched layers of fabric backing, cotton batting, and the quilt tops I’d been working on all year. It took another year of hand-quilting everything together before I presented them to my children the next Christmas. After they each had a quilt of their own I used the last week of the year to start more quilts for our new mountain cabin. When these were finished we took them with us for our annual years’-end visit.

On the outside the 80’s were for me a time of perfecting and preserving my persona and the collective values of the times in which I was raised. But on the inside I felt I’d been shipwrecked and was living on my own private, isolated island. There I spent most of my time fishing in the watery depths of my psyche for psychological sustenance that could help me understand myself and resolve my inner conflicts.

Then, in the fall of 1989 I found what I was looking for:  I joined a Centerpoint group based on Jungian psychology, and suddenly the lights came on! I don’t remember what I did during the 52nd week that year but I’m pretty sure I would have spent most of it reading, studying and underlining one of the 20 or so books by Jungian analysts I had immediately ordered from Inner City Publishers.  Intense study was the first of the practices I undertook that made the year of 1990 a threshold into the most life-changing, soul-satisfying and creative period of my life.

My other main practice was recording and studying my dreams. Throughout the nineties I did dreamwork every morning and wrote every afternoon. I also meditated and practiced yoga. But I always devoted the 52nd week of each year to rereading my dream journals, summarizing important themes and trends, noting new developments, and highlighting valuable insights. Remembering and integrating my soul’s processes at the end of every year was an extremely valuable ritual for me in those days. Essentially I was building a new foundation for my psyche and I could feel it growing stronger with each passing year. This was my decade of finding, connecting with, and honoring the unconscious and the Self.

The new millennium brought new insights and year’s-end rituals.  Feeling an unprecedented need to get in touch with my body and nature, I usually spent the 52nd week hiking and climbing the mountains near our cabin.  As my grandchildren began arriving, they and their parents would join us;  we’d also play games and enjoy lots of physical, outdoor, non-cerebral fun like sledding, making snow angels, and building snowmen!

Once again it’s my favorite week of the year. This year Fred and I brought Izzie—our grand-dog who’s a female version of her predecessor, Bear—with us to the cabin. One of my favorite things so far has been to take a long daily hike around the property with her.  Another was to prepare a welcome meal of chili, salad, homemade biscuits, and key lime pie for my son’s family who joined us a few nights ago.

So far, the only theme I see emerging during this decade is to listen and follow the guidance of my instincts and energy.  I don’t feel much need for closure any more—annual or otherwise—and the days of making special preparations for the 52nd week are long gone. In fact, I rarely do much of that any other time of the year either.  Mostly I just like staying present with myself, my family, and the moment and its opportunities.

Above all, I’ve been spending a lot of time savoring the many blessings of my life.  Believe me, I’ve had more than my share and I’ve never felt more grateful for them. Right now, that’s enough for me. Whatever the new year may bring, I welcome it with open arms.

May the new year bring you renewed awareness and gratitude for the special times of your one, precious life.

If you’re interested in hearing more about my introduction to Jungian psychology, you might enjoy this radio interview I did for the Centerpoint Foundation.

Ebook versions of Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

And the Beat Goes On November 17, 2014

In September I had a particularly meaningful dream about my remodeled childhood home.  When I shared it in The Interior Designer Within, the feedback was so fascinating and the discussion so provocative that I wrote two more posts about it: Viewing Your Life Through Mythic Eyes, and Written in the Stars.  Meanwhile, nine nights after that dream my unconscious gave me another “house” dream:

#4570:  The Remodeled Hall. I’m standing with my back to the back porch of my childhood home. In front of me is the hall that leads to the kitchen.  What used to be a narrow, musty passage between the two, with a bathroom on one side and my parents’ room on the other, is now a large spacious gallery, perhaps 18 feet wide, with a ceiling so high I can’t even see it. It’s filled with light and the walls are painted a bright, glossy white. I think someone is painting the last coat on it now.  I think this would make a beautiful art gallery and imagine a huge square painting on one side. The dominant color should be red and other fiery colors. Yes, I’ll use this room for art, but not too much. I don’t want it to be cluttered or distracting.  Just simple and beautiful. I wake up planning where ceiling lights should go.

Although the two dreams occurred several days apart, they felt connected.  The first said that the living room, dining room and kitchen—symbolically, areas of my psyche related to my conscious living—had been dramatically remodeled over the years.  The second one said that remodeling was also underway in the hall at the back of the house—symbolically, my personal unconscious.  Whereas the front of the house was occupied with the more public and practical aspects of my life, this central part in the back was becoming a space for light, art, and creativity.

I loved these dreams.  I loved my childhood home and my life there. And I love the growth I’ve undergone since then. Perhaps that’s why all my dreams of that house leave me with good feelings that last for days. It also makes sense that this recent series of house dreams came at a time when I was feeling particularly good about my life, my work, and myself.

The beat goes on, beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

Charleston was once the rage, uh huh
History has turned the page, uh huh
The miniskirt’s the current thing, uh huh
Teenybopper is our newborn king, uh huh

And the beat goes on, beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

My two most recent dreams, 7 days apart, speak to a different experience of life. Both feature stressful situations in unknown public places where I’m looking for my husband, my car, and my cell phone. Here’s a brief summary of the latest.

#4587:  Stressed and Unprepared I wake up from a nap in a public place. I realize it’s 3:30 in the afternoon on Thanksgiving Day! I have 20 people coming for dinner in two-and-a half hours and I forgot to put the turkey in the oven and peel the potatoes! I start searching through a crowd of hurried passers-by for my purse, my cell phone, my car keys, my husband. I see my husband and send him to Costco in his car for the potatoes and green beans.  As I head for the parking lot I worry: How will I have time to do everything?  How will I even get home?  I can’t find the keys to my car and I can’t call for a cab because I don’t have my phone!

I was frowning and feeling frustrated when I awoke from this dream Monday morning, and the mood lasted half the day! So what’s my issue? Have I been doing too much or too little?  Are my priorities out of whack?  Am I wasting time on things I love which are not that important in the bigger picture?  Should I give more attention to my outer life and less to the inner? Do I feel guilty for loafing all day Sunday?  Am I afraid of being unprepared for Thanksgiving dinner?  For the book I’m starting to write?  For my keynote speech next summer? Am I having trouble communicating my concerns to Fred and/or my animus and asking for their help?  These are all things I’ve wondered lately.

My “childhood home” dreams tell me what I’m doing well.  They remind me to be grateful.  They affirm my growth and encourage me to keep going.  Stress dreams tell me when things are out of balance. They set up possible scenarios and rehearse strategies I might want to consider. And though they may bring me down for a time, I usually bounce back before long.

Neither state of mind is a constant and this is as it should be.  The psyche needs balance, just as Nature’s seasons.  And the opposites of life deserve their due.  Yet, regardless of which phase we’re in, we can be assured that the beat goes on. Like my two favorite kinds of jazz, sometimes the pace is frenetic, sometimes it’s slow and easy. But it goes on.

And the beat goes on, beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

Songwriters
PRINI, ROSSANO / SANDRINI, PAOLO / NARAINE, WILLIAM / ULIVI, VITO / BARATTA, MARCO / SUDANO, RICCARDO

Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

 Ebook versions of The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords.  Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

The Interior Designer Within September 9, 2014

Celebrating my 10th birthday in my childhood home

Celebrating my 10th birthday in my childhood home

In the middle of my life I was forced to face some uncomfortable realities about myself. During that time I had many “unsuitable house” dreams. Their message was clear: if I moved into the “house” I had spent years designing and building I would be miserable. I had no idea why.

Now I do. Practically every choice I had made to that point was based on my need to please others and prove my worth. Because my focus was on how I appeared in the outer world I had no idea who I really was or what would make me happy. It felt selfish to even think that way! My only hope came from studying Jungian psychology and taking my dreams seriously.  Today I am living proof of the benefits of this inner work. To show you what I mean, here’s a “house” dream from a few nights ago.

Dream #4569: I’m Leading a Dream Group at My Childhood Home

I’m in my childhood house. It has been totally remodeled from a shabby little Victorian cottage into the most lovely and satisfying place I could imagine. I’m in the new dining room. It spans the width of the house in the space where the old kitchen and dining room used to be. I’m facing the front of the house where the screened porch, living room, my bedroom, and new kitchen are. Behind me is the back half of the house: Mom’s bedroom, the bathroom, the hall in between, and the back porch. This middle place is where I write.

The dining table is long, white, and surrounded by white chairs. There are flowers in the center and a few place settings in shades of white, cream, beige and soft greens. The adjoining kitchen is now in the front half of the house and mostly white too. It’s all very open, expansive and filled with light. I am awe-struck by how perfect it is for me.

I see people with books and notebooks coming through the front door into the living room. I realize they’re here for today’s dream group. I’m not quite ready yet so I ask the woman hovering nearby if she’ll offer them some water while I get ready. I’m already dressed in casual white capris and a loose white shirt, but haven’t done my hair or makeup. I look into the mirror on the table beside my work area and realize I look fine and will only need a minute.

The others are sitting in front of the house in a big circle under the trees. There are more people on the left side than the right with empty chairs in between. I ask them to form a smaller circle so everyone can see and hear everyone else.  I’m feeling relaxed and comfortable, happy that these people have come to my home to work on their dreams with me, and looking forward to today’s group.

birthday2Assocations:

The last sentence says it all. This is how I’ve been feeling lately:  casual, unhurried, in love with the remodel of my childhood house (my psyche:  the way I’m living now), and deeply grateful to have a circle of like-minded friends who want to discover their true selves and discuss their dreams with me (that would be you guys!!). Upon reflection (mirror), I realize I don’t fret nearly so much as I used to about appearances (makeup). And I look forward to sharing what I’ve learned (dream group). I love this life which is the exact opposite of how I used to live!

Who is the mysterious woman hovering nearby?  I never actually see her, but she’s appeared in many dreams, especially recently. I’m pretty sure she’s the same woman who rescued me when I found myself in deep water in “Going Against the Current,” one of the earliest dreams I recorded.  I think she’s Sophia, the Sacred Feminine who has been helping me remodel my house since I started working on my dreams.

Here are my reasons for telling you this.  First, no matter how good things may look from the outside, the inner life is a struggle for everyone. Second, we each have an interior designer who knows how to remodel our house in a way that is perfect for us.  Third, the price for her help is engaging in a regular practice that brings self-knowledge. Fourth, working on my dreams works for me.

What are your house dreams telling you?

Ebook versions of The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords.  Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

 

What Do Dreams Have To Do With “Real” Life? Part II July 22, 2014

IndividuationandArchetypeLast time I shared a dream from over 20 years ago titled “Two Snakes in the Tree of Life.” So what did that dream have to do with “real” life?  Actually, dreams ARE real life.  They happen to everyone, even some animals.  They are facts.  We do not make them up.  They come from a place beyond Ego’s control: the unconscious.  Our unawareness of the unconscious does not negate its reality;  each dream proves its existence. When we trust it and explore its nightly dramas, ordinary life is transformed into the greatest adventure of all: living our own myth.

This is my all-time favorite dream and I’m still processing its message. It arrived shortly after I finished my first book about the inner life, The Bridge to Wholeness.  I had quit college teaching to follow my passion for writing, birthed my precious child, nurtured it through months of revisions, and was looking for a publisher. At a time when I was particularly vulnerable, this dream affirmed my choices and bolstered my courage to continue on my new path.

It is a mythic allegory about the psycho-spiritual initiation of my immature Ego (the little green snake) which had unconsciously identified with my culture’s masculine/Animus values.  It said that my destiny was to take the individuation (tree) journey through a dark and unknown way to integrate my Soul (brown female snake) into consciousness.

The Bridge to WholenessThe first stage of initiation was a slow awakening to Spirit through a lengthy immersion in the spiritual realm (hole).  This corresponded with the first half of my life when I escaped internal conflicts by immersing myself in church, the Bible, and masculine-oriented religious teachings.

The second stage began when the little green snake left the safe womb of conformity and ventured out on its own.  This was the right choice (right) for me, even though it opened me to the dangerous influence of the unconscious (left). The outer world equivalent to this plot development is that at age 37 I finally acknowledged my unhappiness and lack of fulfillment, overcame my inertia, and returned to college for my doctorate.

Act III featured an encounter with my earthy feminine Anima/Soul (brown female snake) who lived in the opposite, unconscious side of my psyche. Suddenly, her differing needs demanded equal time with Spirit.

In waking life I had come face to face with a moral dilemma, both sides of which were equally compelling, yet intolerable.  Fearful of making a terrible mistake that could have disastrous consequences, I tolerated the tension of their slow simmering in a Dark Night of the Soul for nine long years. Listening to the dialogues between Reason and Emotion, Conscious and Unconscious, Animus and Anima, Spirit and Soul, Ego and Self without giving in to my Ego’s desperate wish to escape was my salvation, for in the process, the alchemical vessel of my psyche was strengthened and empowered.

dreamtheatres2Fascinated by the strange image of the female snake biting down on the head of the little green snake, I looked for associations in Barbara Walker’s The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. Walker says that the serpent was originally identified with the Great Goddess and many ancient religions told stories about a male snake deity who was the Goddess’s consort.  Walker writes:

[This male snake]…gave himself up to be devoured by the Goddess.  The image of the male snake deity enclosed or devoured by the female gave rise to a superstitious notion about the sex life of snakes, reported by Pliny and solemnly believed in Europe even up to the 20th century:  that the male snake fertilizes the female snake by putting his head in her mouth and letting her eat him [italics mine] p. 904.

Bingo! This mythic image which I had never encountered before is an archetypal symbol of fertility, transformation and renewal! It appeared in my dream as a natural consequence of years of inner work and mirrored a life-changing transformation in my personality. This is why the last scene of the dream pointed not to death, but to new life. An apparent catastrophe was transformed into something sacred (rainbow) by the snakes’ bizarre embrace. The result was a more maturely individuated Ego and Animus (cowboy) and a deeply meaningful spirituality.

So my answer to,”What do dreams have to do with ‘real’ life?” is, “Everything that truly matters and is deeply real.”  They show us who we are: our greatest fears and deepest desires, our wounds and wishes, weaknesses and strengths.They tell us where we are and how to get where we want to go. They help us forgive our flaws and learn compassion for ourselves and others. They encourage our individuality and reward our healthy choices. They satisfy our soul’s yearning to be known and loved.

I still struggle daily to understand and accept myself, but thanks to my dreams and the writing through which I pour out my vital essence, I’m still evolving.  And beneath my ubiquitous self-doubt rests a solid foundation—laid by 25 years of recording and working on #4,552 dreams to date—of peaceful knowing.  My dreams tell me:  You are making a contribution only you can make. This is enough for me.

Your destiny is the result of the collaboration between the conscious and the unconscious. Carl Jung, Letters Volume I, p. 283.

Photos:  Ego and Archetype by Edward Edinger is one of my favorite books by a Jungian analyst. It’s a must for the library of any serious seeker. To learn more about Jungian psychology from a layperson’s point of view check out any of my books.  Ebook versions of The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, and Diesel Ebooks.  Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

What Do Dreams Have to Do with “Real” Life? Part I July 15, 2014

299px-Caduceus.svg[1]If you’ve never thought of dreams as having any relevance to your waking life, I can assure you, they do. This one which came at a pivotal time in my life convinced me beyond any doubt that some unimaginable, unconscious Mystery which dwelled both within and outside me knew what was going on in my conscious life and had something to tell me about it. I’ll share the dream in this post and comment on it in the next.

Dream #843:  Two Snakes in the Tree of Life”. 

Someone is telling a story. I watch from afar as the events unfold.

“Once upon a time a little green snake started his life in one side of a tree.”  I see the snake.  He is long and thin and his underbelly is the color of the inside of an avocado.

“On the other side of the tree lay a huge, old, brown female snake, but the little green snake did not know it.  He grew and grew until one day he decided to go on his journey and he entered the hole.”  The little green snake slithers into a hole in the tree and disappears.  I look to see if his head comes out of the hole on the other side where the big old female snake is, but it does not.  Maybe the way inside the hole is long and winding.

“It took him a long time of traveling and he was enjoying his journey, but eventually he came out on the other side.”  His head peeks out of the hole.  Will he see the big snake?  No, he turns right and takes a narrow spiral path that curves around the tree to the left, to where the big snake is waiting.

“The little green snake slid along smack into the mouth of the big snake.” The green snake’s head peeks out of the side of the big snake’s mouth.  The big snake munches down on his head twice.  Chomp. Chomp.  The little green snake’s face shows no fear or distress or pain.  Maybe this does not hurt.  Maybe he has no idea what is happening to him.  I hope so.

Now the narration breaks off.  There are other onlookers here.  One says, “Oh, well.  That’s the end of the little green snake.”

Someone else says, “Well, what if he fights back?”  I wonder how he can possibly fight back with no hands or arms or legs. There seems to be no hope.

Someone else says, “Oh, no.  He shouldn’t fight back. That would be wrong.” 

The narrator says, “Oh, is fighting the wrong answer?”

Suddenly, a rainbow streaks across the sky and lands in a different place, like a lit-up stage in a vast, darkened theatre.  It is the little green snake, who has been transformed into a young, handsome cowboy.  Triumphantly he saunters across the stage to the bar, slaps down two coins, and says to the bartender, “Set ’em up, Joe.”

He survived!  He did not have to die and he turned into a human! This is the best possible ending to the story.

Symbols

Little Green Snake:  An archetype that has many possible meanings.  Because the snake constantly sheds its skin, it symbolizes transformation, rebirth, and perpetual renewal. The color green, the color of the annual renewal of nature, reinforces this meaning. The Kundalini serpent of Tibetan yoga, which is said to be coiled at the base of the spinal column, symbolizes the cosmic evolutionary energy that accompanies growing spiritual awareness.  In this dream, I believe the little green snake represents my masculine spiritual striving for transformation, personal empowerment, and individuation.

Tree:  An archetype of individuation;  spiritual development;  androgyny.

Brown:  The color of the ‘feminine’ earth.

Female Snake:  The ancient, earthy, natural feminine;  the archetypal Great Goddess or Great Mother, which has the power of life and death;  my feminine essence.

Hole:  An opening into the unknown, or spiritual world.  Since it is a circle, also the Self.

Right: A suggestion that the snake is headed in the ‘right’ direction;  the direction of consciousness.

Left: The unconscious.

Onlookers:  Other aspects of my personality.

Cowboy: A rugged individualist, a mature individuated animus.

These were my associations to the symbols twenty years ago when I was working on this dream for inclusion in Dream Theatres of the Soul: Empowering the Feminine Through Jungian Dreamwork. I no longer see the cowboy as a “mature individuated animus,” but at that time my animus was still in the throes of youthful heroic swagger. I forgive myself (and him) for being so full of ‘ourselves.” My body was no longer young when I had this dream, but my ego was, and inflation always shadows a newly-empowered ego.

I’ll share what I wrote about this dream next time. Meanwhile, I welcome your associations.

Jean Raffa’s newest book, Healing the Sacred Divide, can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc. Ebook versions of The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, and Diesel Ebooks

 

Tzivia Gover’s “Forget About Ids and Analyses and Experience the Dream” July 1, 2014

My friends, I just tried to reblog a post from another website for the first time and thanks to Francesca, a thoughtful reader, disovered that I failed miserably. So here I go again with a different method!  I hope you’ll let me know if it works!!

This post about the self-knowledge that dreams can bring was written by certified dreamworker Tzivia Gover and can be found at her blog, http://www.thirdhousemoon.com.   I loved it and wanted you to see it too!

Forget about ids and analyses and experience the dream (or: A year ago … CV)

HPIM0541.JPG Early last summer I accepted a last minute invitation to visit a friend who lives two hours away for a barbecue. With no planning I jumped in my car and soon I was in my friend’s kitchen helping her rinse greens for a salad, while others prepped the grill and set the table. I spent the day playing with a little boy on the tire swing under the Chestnut tree, eating chicken hot dogs with the group, and later driving to a lake where we kayaked under a serene blue sky. Floating there on the lake in a small blue boat, my yellow paddle pushing me past the white flowers sprouting from lily pads, I felt my heart pulsing with joy.

This past winter, when I felt cold or lonely, I would remember that day—the painterly light animating the tall grasses in the field behind my friend’s house, the trees, and the buttlerflies whispering on the breezes, and the easy company of old and new friends, and the peace of paddling on that glimmering lake.

The day was sweet. But reflecting on it and savoring it in the months that followed, was even sweeter.

I don’t need to convince you that paying attention to happy moments like this one, and savoring them afterwards, adds joy to your life. Such a day can enrich our lives just by having happened, and by being remembered. Or we might go a step further and try to learn something from it: This is what happens when I take a chance and say yes to a last minute invitation, for example.

But you might need convincing if I told you that a dream is no different, that by simply savoring a sweet one, or studying a troubling one, you can learn lessons and increase the joy in your life. You might argue, “But my dreams are not like a serene summer day with new friends.” You’ll say, “My dreams are anxiety-infused, nonsensical, and bizarre.”

Yes, my friend I’ve had days—I mean dreams—like that, too.

Let’s take the days, first, because we all believe in those. For example there was the day a friend who’d always been sweet and cheerful turned argumentative and angry. Or the day I took my seat on the ferry for a weekend getaway only to realize, that I’d left my wallet at home. Or the one where my students refused to listen to me and I came home hoarse from asking them to quiet down.

I could choose to ignore those days because they too are bizarre, nonsensical, and anxiety-infused. But I’m not that kind of person, and since you are reading this, I’m guessing neither are you. Instead, I reflect: What happened? How do I understand my friend’s sudden change in behavior? What did I learn about my inner resourcefulness from embarking on a trip with no identification or money? How can I speak to my students so they will want to listen?

Do you see where I’m going with this? It’s easy to see that we can learn from our experiences rather than turn away from them, and that this is the way to grow and become more skillful at navigating what life throws our way. And you can do the very same thing with your dreams.

Forget for the moment about archetypes, analysis, ids, and super egos. Look at your dreams as experiences you can choose to dismiss as random hallucinations, or mine for wisdom, emotional insight, and original perspective.

Working with dreams is no more complicated, than what you do naturally with your waking experiences. Simply pay attention to what happened last night, when you drifted into sleep and entered into other dimensions of consciousness.

Try This:

  • This week, accept your dreams as experiences. Period. Remember: interpreting and analyzing dreams is only one of many ways to respond to them.
  • As you reflect on your dream notice: What new places did I see? What new, unusual, or unexpected abilities or facets of myself or others did I encounter?
  • Is there anything from your dream, perhaps a color, character, situation, or feeling, that you’d like to savor or reflect on?

ZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZ

Tzivia Gover, Certified Dream Therapist, is available to help you understand the meaning and messages in your dreams. Visit her at www.thirdhousemoon.com to view her upcoming workshops and for summer dreamwork discounts.

 

 

The Suspicious Girl April 1, 2014

Nurturing New Growth

Nurturing New Growth

I don’t usually talk or write much about sex. Yet I feel compelled to share this disturbing dream.

Dream #4518: The Suspicious Little Girl: I’m staying at a house with other people.  A noise wakes me up at night. Someone is opening the door.  An eleven-year-old girl who feels familiar is sleeping beside me. Fearing a man is sneaking in to kidnap her, I wrap my arms protectively around her. The shadowy figure of a woman stands by the bed looking shocked. She thinks I might be a child molester! I’m appalled. The next day we’re in a roomful of people when the girl asks me suspiciously, “What was last night all about?” I’m confused. I say defensively, “Darling, someone came into our room in the middle of the night! I was trying to protect you!” Nobody says anything. I sense their suspicion.”

The girl is near the age I was when my father died. As I work with the dream’s images three experiences from that time rise to my awareness.  The first is a dream in which the Lone Ranger shot me. I’ve since learned that for girls who lack the protection of a strong, vigilant mother, such a dream can express a budding awareness of her vulnerability to male predators.

The next summer a girl at church camp told me about rape. After that I saw predators everywhere. One day at a church outing in a state park, a friend and I were walking through the forest when an older boy we knew called out to us from the bottom of a wooded ravine, “Come here.  I want to show you something.” Terrified that he wanted to expose himself or worse, I raced back to the safety of the group, leaving Sylvia far behind.

The third happened one afternoon when I was home alone. The phone rang and a man asked for my mother.  When I told him she wasn’t home, he said, “You’ll do!” Then he described what he would do to me when he came over. I raced to my neighbor’s house where I stayed until my mother came home from work. I never felt safe in that house again.

I see the suspicious girl in my dream as the sensitive and innocent part of me that was traumatized by these events.  My dream ego’s assumption that the intruder was a man illustrates the power experiences like this have to create lasting bias in young minds.  And my instinct to protect the girl is equally strong in my waking life. The woman who was the actual intruder feels like a largely unconscious (night) aspect of my maternal instinct which suspects predatory agendas in adults who are overly intimate with other people’s children.  The group of adults (collective) who were suspicious of me the next day suggest the shared suspicion of female sexuality pervading Western culture…the Salem witch hunts come to mind. And my dream ego’s disbelief and defensiveness about their suspicion suggests some unconscious guilt about my female sexuality.

I recently read a comment by a woman who sees nothing good about men and truly believes the world should have an entire country closed to them so women can live without fear. I was shocked by her vehement one-sidedness, but this dream illustrates how dysfunctional male sexuality can wound a girl to the point that she acquires disdain for all males.  My first inkling of this possibility occurred at twelve. I was wandering through a drugstore when I saw a boy staring at me, peeking around the ends of the aisles, “stalking” me in an innocent boyish way. An innocent part of me was flattered, but a wounded part was more powerful. When he finally walked past me with a flirty, “Hello Cutie,”  I said, “Hello Ugly.”

Ow. Ow. Ow. How could I have been so mean?  Yet I felt totally justified.  For a moment that poor boy represented everything about maleness that felt overwhelmingly threatening. When I told my mother about it, I expected her to be proud of my pluck, but to my surprise she seemed shocked by my cruelty.  The fact that I assumed she’d approve tells me I had unconsciously absorbed part of this attitude from her.  Having never dealt with her own male-inflicted wounds, she passed them on to me.

Working on the above dream was disturbing, but then I re-read the following forgotten one from the previous night:

Dream #4517:  The Besotted Young Man.  A lovely young man of whom I’m very fond, (no one from my waking life), has been following me around. He sneaks up behind me in the kitchen of a big house where we’re staying. When I turn around to see who’s there, he surprises me with an awkward kiss. I enjoy the moment, then step back to look at him. His handsome face is red and intense with emotion. “Do you think it’s time we had sex?” he asks with hopeful innocence.  Not wanting to hurt my husband or him, I smile and gently caress his arm. “No, dear boy. I don’t.” He takes this well, as if it is what he expected.

This dream is a contemporary remake of my youthful waking experience in the drugstore. People go to drugstores for remedies to mental and physical wounds.  My cruelty to the young “stalker” was a symptom of a psychic wound inflicted by toxic masculinity and I needed a remedy.  A kitchen is a room where people gather to nourish body and soul.  My dream says I feel no need to be cruel to this young “stalker.” In fact, my greatest concern is not to hurt him.

As dream #4518 shows the parts of me that are still infected by the shadow of masculinity, this dream depicts the healing difference inner work can make.

Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc. Ebook versions of The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, and Diesel Ebooks 

 

 
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