In the Beginning Was the DreamPart II One Night's Journey to Self. by Michelle Koffron
March 17, 1993, early morning
I'm in a transient hotel apartment. The door won't lock properly or even close all the way, and a sinister man lurks through the unfamiliar hallways. I know I must leave the building immediately to avoid him. I sneak to the elevator and go down and out through the lobby, hoping he won't see or assault me. Then--flash--I'm in a home (not a church) remarrying my ex-husband Kevin. I'm preparing for the wedding and reception. The food is casual--something simple, like spaghetti. I'm in a terrible rush because the ceremony begins in ten minutes and nothing is together yet. At the last minute, I send Kevin to pick up a cake. He comes back with one that says "Kevin and Carol," but my name is not Carol! I remember there is no film in my camera, but now it's too late to do anything about it. The family has all arrived--aunts, uncles, cousins--and no one knows where to put the coats. Nothing about this setting is new. Our wedding rings will be the rings I already have on my fingers, including our original wedding band. I realize I'm not supposed to be wearing the rings yet, so I give them to Kevin. We two stand in front of a wobbly, six-sided table shaped like a coffin and covered with a blue-gray tablecloth. The minister faces us on the other side, where the family stands. Tracy (Kevin's lover in waking life) is present and I wonder if I can go through with this marriage. Should I let her do it instead? Then I wonder if I can ever sleep with Kevin again. Can this possibly work? He seems so happy now. The family is proud and joyous. My cousin approaches me to anoint my lips and the
tips of my shoes with a brown gooey substance. I understand that I am
to pass this on to Kevin, so I kiss him playfully, rubbing the stuff
all over his face with my lips. Everyone laughs. I look down at my shoes
and see brown stuff on the floor in front of my toes. It looks like
two squirts, about an inch each, of burnt umber oil paint, or maybe
little turds.
When she awoke, Dawn knew her dream was significant,
though unsure how. She wrote it in her dream journal, thinking she
might share it with the members of her dreams and astrology workshop.
That evening, her dream inspired an hour of discussion and role-play
by her classmates and group leaders, astrologer Barbara Schermer and
psychologist John Giannini. John and Barbara met two years ago when
Barbara sought his help in understanding her dreams. John has been a
Jungian analyst for 14 years with special interest in dreams, and is
now affiliated with the C. G. Jung Institute of Chicago. Barbara pioneered
the field of experiential astrology and employs experiential techniques
in her 20-year consulting practice. They are teaching each other their
respective disciplines.
Last year, the two teamed their learning
to lead groups integrating Jungian psychology and astrology that show
students how to derive meaning from dreams. This article, part two of
a series, demonstrates their methods.
In alchemical terms, the dreamer's personal
history serves as an alembic--the container in which the dream's meaning
is distilled. Without the container, the dream evaporates and meaning
is lost.
Dreams often use universally-recognized
symbols to tell Self's story. Such images would seem to have "obvious"
meaning. But we can't know their significance for the dreamer until
we understand the dreamer's relationship to them. For example, a dream
of Virgin Mary will connote differently for a devout Catholic than a
Buddhist--these dreamers have widely separate experiences with the same
symbol.
Dawn, who told the above dream, is in
her early forties and the oldest of two daughters. Her father died of
alcoholism when she was 18 and was far removed from family life. He
repeatedly battled and abused her mother, who died when Dawn was 30.
Her sister was born mentally retarded, and Dawn felt her father blamed
her mother for the handicap. He subsequently withdrew emotionally form
all three women.
Afraid of being alone after her mother
died, Dawn married Kevin (depicted in the dream) two weeks later. She
describes her marriage to him as "two months of bliss followed by nine
years of torture." Kevin left Dawn feeling trapped in a co-dependent
relationship devoid of sex and emotional intimacy. The had one daughter
before divorcing and now share custody amicably.
Dawn remains close to her ex-husband's
family, especially her cousin by marriage, Mike, depicted in the dream.
Dawn's aunt Carol, her only living blood
relative, is elderly with terminal illness. She has not talked to Carol
in several years.
After her divorce, Dawn entered into several
romantic relationships with men--some reminded her of her father, as
Kevin did--but none reached the depth of emotional intimacy Dawn desires.
She is now in a relationship that is sexually satisfying, but her lover
insists on emotional distance.
In Man and His Symbols, Carl Jung
describes his theory of archaic personalities that co-exist within a
person's psyche. These derive from he collective unconscious and are
called archetypes. According to Jung, archetypes are universally based,
but personally experienced and created. For example, Dawn's animus (Jung's
term for the inner masculine archetype)--which is modeled by and reflected
in each male person around her--is necessarily colored by the negative
experiences of men in her life. When these men appear in her dreams,
her psyche is directing her attention to the corresponding male archetypes
within her.
"Dawn clearly has tremendous ambivalence
about her inner lover archetype," says John. "In her dream she hungers
for union with her ex-husband, but this guy doesn't fit the bill. She
wants to be part of his family, but doesn't want to re-marry him to
do it. What's more, she has no film in her camera, so she can't even
concretize the wedding event. Her inner lover is unsuitable. Implicitly,
the Self craves a more compatible bond.
"Looking further, the dream script puts
Carol's name on the cake where Dawn's name should be. In waking life,
Carol is dying. And in the dream, the couple is being married in front
of a coffin. It appears that something in Dawn's psyche must die before
the natural union of the inner lover to Self can proceed. That something
is a relationship with the inner lover who, by psychic comparison, is
as destructive as Dawn's outer relationships," he says.
How can Dawn resolve her ambivalence?
To find out, we look to her dream's ending. Marie Louise von Franz (a
colleague of Jung's), in her book The Way of the Dream, suggests
that the ending of a dream indicates psyche's answer to the issues itraises.
The last paragraph of Dawn's dream portrays
a sort of blessing, an anointing by her cousin, Mike. In waking life,
Mike is Dawn's peer, friend, and confidant. "Dawn has received some
sort of transmission from this positive male figure, but what is it?
She can't decide if the substance is shit or burnt umber oil paint,"
says Barbara.
"When we role-played the dream in class,
ironically or not, we discovered that Dawn painted in high school, and
burnt umber was her favorite color," Barbara explains. "She even won
an award for one of her artworks, but stopped painting soon afterward.
I suggested to Dawn that the anointing is a potent symbol of her latent
creativity. In alchemy, shit is prima materia, the beginning of creation.
Dawn needs to value this substance and continuously transform it into
the potential it represents. The dream even points the way . . . her
beginning is right at her feet where the brown stuff leads."
John concurs: "Dawn's cousin has created
an axis for her from her lips to her feet. This is her pillar of strength.
Just as she smears the stuff on the face of her ex-husband in the dream,
she can use her creative potential to transform the image of her inner
lover.
"I believe this also relates to the dark
man in the transient hotel. The hotel is a lonely place, a place of
transition. While her cousin is a positive male figure who may provide
support and protection, ultimately she must do this inner work alone,"
he says.
In class role-play, Dawn realized this
dynamic within her: "Painting is a lonely activity. And as I stand here
about to remarry Kevin, I understand that even though I'm afraid to
be alone, if I were in this relationship, I wouldn't be doing the work
I need to do," she said.
The astrological discussion begins with
brainstorming. "We look at the transiting outer planets first (Uranus,
Neptune and Pluto) because they represent the larger schematic themes,"
says Barbara. "Once the dream is articulated and explored, we often
use astrodrama to bring it alive in the moment." (In astrodrama, students
assume the roles of planets and dialog in each planet's "voice."--See
Barbara Schermer's Astrology Alive!, Harper/Rowe, 1989.)
"As the students bodily experience particular
roles," she continues, "the dream becomes real and the experience profound.
Nearly every time, we find a relationship between the dream and the
horoscope, especially transiting planets."
At the time of Dawn's dream, Uranus and
Neptune were conjoining her Sun in Capricorn, squaring her Moon in Aries
and her Neptune in Libra. Saturn was conjoining her Mars in Aquarius
and Pluto was sextiling her Sun.
"The most prominent pattern in Dawn's
natal horoscope is her Sun square Moon in angular houses," explains
Barbara. "That represents a profound conflict between the conscious
(Sun) and unconscious (Moon). This is an extremely difficult natal aspect.
To me, it's the hardest because it creates a constant pull between the
emotional, lunar response--in Dawn's case a fiery, spunky, Aries response--and
the vital solar expression--for her, reserved and judgmental in Capricorn.
"Put the two in square to each other and
you get a delightfully feisty, sexual woman who repeatedly deprecates
herself for those very qualities. This is a highly ambivalent aspect,"
she says.
Remember that Dawn's mother died when
Dawn was 30, two weeks before she married Kevin. "We can only imagine
the tremendous emotions, especially ambivalence, surrounding her when
she got married," says Barbara. "This was supposed to be a joyful day,
and there she was grieving! The marriage only served to support the
extremes in her chart and psyche. And her Capricorn nature insisted
on blaming herself for the relationship's failure."
At the time of her dream, Uranus and Neptune
were firing Dawn's Sun-Moon square, represented in the dream by a prevalent
ambivalence throughout. "In particular, Uranus was squaring her Moon
directly, which would indicate confusion and chaos (Uranus) surrounding
the feminine (Moon)," Barbara explains. "And in the dream, the roles
of women are confused. Dawn is marrying Kevin when she thinks Tracy
should do it. And Carol's name is on the cake instead of her own. Dawn
is grappling with her role and function as a woman, especially in the
marriage to her inner lover," she says.
Less prominent at the time of the dream
was transiting Saturn conjuncting Dawn's Mars. "In the dream, she was
frantically working (Mars) to complete all the preparation details (Saturn)
for the ceremony, but there wasn't enough time. In a broader sense,
we know that Saturn conjunct Mars can indicate frustrations with men.
Dawn has Venus trine Neptune natally, which gives her a high ideal of
her perfect partner. Unfortunately, she's now being frustrated and limited
(Saturn) by the real men (Mars) in her life," says Barbara.
Is there a planetary aspect working in
Dawn's chart that will help her draw out her creativity and heal her
past hurts? Barbara believes so: "The key lies in her cousin's anointing
her with the shit-like substance. Astrologically, we associate shit--prima
materia--with Pluto. Pluto transforms everything it touches, and at
the time of Dawn's dream it was sextiling her Sun. This should give
her a new ability and opportunity to transform her relationships to
men, and the kind of man she has traditionally attracted.
"My guess is that, as these outer planet
transits are worked through, she will rid herself of an old karmic pattern
of relating to men. It will be replaced with a new, positive pattern
of relating to outer males as well as the internal male," says Barbara.
"What amazes me most," says Barbara, "is
that all this information was extracted from an hour's work with a single
night's journey into the unconscious. In class, no matter who's dream
we're working with, we all feel the archetypes come alive as we play
with them and create them . . . and they create us."
Dawn is also making a conscious effort
to control her self-deprecation. "I'm catching myself when I cut myself
down and learning how to alter my perspective," she says. And her dreams
have changed. "Before my wedding dream, I continually had dreams of
men that rejected or ignored me. Since that group session, the men in
my dreams have transformed; they're more approachable now. I haven't
resolved the issues raised by my wedding dream, but there is definitely
movement. I can feel things beginning to change."
© 1994, Michelle Koffron
Michelle Koffron is a freelance writer
in Chicago with a B.S. degree in psychology and journalism. Her ongoing
studies in astrology and Jungian psychology provide her own prima materia
for journalistic work.
To obtain information on groups, private
consultations and/or tutoring with Barbara Schermer or John Giannini,
please call Barbara at 312-248-7108.
|