This is a long article. I suggest that you print it or save it as a text file for later reading.--Barbara.


 

In the Beginning Was the Dream

 Part 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.

Step 1: Cementing the Dream in Personal History

Once a dream has been recorded, without bias or interpretation, the first step is to incorporate the dreamer's personal history. (It is essential not to censor the dream or associate its contents in the initial stages of dreamwork as this corrupts its core meaning.)

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.

Step 2: Decanting Archetypes and Key Themes

"It's vital to remember that each person, place and thing in a dream is a component of the dreamer's psyche," says John. "We typically relate dream symbols to outer people and events, but must avoid imposing external associations. The dream originates from Self, and each component speaks of the dreamer's personality. When Dawn dreams of her ex-husband, then, the dream doesn't speak of him per se, but of the archetype within her that he represents--the inner lover. However, the character of the outer person can explain the function of that person's image in the dream," he explains.

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.

Step 3: Applying Astrology to Precipitate Meaning

In the groups, a student's horoscope is drawn on an easel and displayed to the class as the dream is told. The positions of Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto at the time of the dream are depicted with stickers around the chart.

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."


One year later . . .

Dawn is still dating the man she was involved with at the time of her dream. He remains aloof, but their relationship is deepening because "I'm able to see a larger picture now," she says.

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.

 

 
Astrology Alive!
Copyright ©1999 - Barbara Schermer
Site Designer -
Bob Craft