Spelade

  • Complaining is universal, perhaps, like gossiping, one of the first uses to which developed language was put. Overall, a complaint can refer to a perceived legal injustice, medical symptom, or other personally painful matter. The chronic complainer feels a lack of agency, and implicitly pleads for emotional support and/or effective action from another. A complaint may therefore range from a request for empathic engagement to an effort to assign responsibility to others. Listeners have a felt sense of a complaint’s legitimacy; we resonate to injustice and its reparation in the tale of The Goose Girl. We feel exasperation with the heroine’s petulant entitlement in the tale of The Princess and the Pea, and take satisfaction in the punishment of greed in The Fisherman and His Wife. A chronic complaint is a call to identify and understand an underlying problem rather than externalizing it.

    Dream

    “There was a man (though he seemed not simply a man but some combination creature or child like or otherworldly -- maybe something that can turn into something else) and he was lying down and sort of whimpering. He was wearing a long light-colored robe. Then I realized that on his side he had a large gaping wound and rotting flesh and there were birds, many families of birds feeding on his flesh. He was in great pain but also kind of trance-like and internal. I had to help him. It was a grave situation. He couldn’t help himself. He was helpless. He seemed pathetic. It would be a really long painful death. I didn’t know what could help but thought maybe if I took a hose I could force the birds off with water. I did that and maybe someone was helping me, because as I hosed it seemed there was another set of hands “cleaning” or holding the birds that came off. It was arduous. I thought it was a great infection and how could I get him or it to a hospital. Then I woke up.”

    References

    Video: It’s Not About the Nail (YouTube). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4EDhdAHrOg

    Sieff, Daniela. Understanding and Healing Emotional Trauma (Amazon).

  • Although these Jungian concepts have become familiar psychological terminology, they remain difficult to understand. According to Jung, animus and anima are innate psychic structures shaped significantly by the archetypal world, whereas the shadow is predominantly shaped by personal experiences of ego formation. Whereas shadow tends to be rejected, animus and anima fascinate and attract. Although images like sol / luna or yin / yang amplify the a priori nature of these inner opposites, the animus corresponds to the paternal Logos and the anima to the maternal Eros. Parents are the first external experience of this innate predisposition, and a developmental psychic trajectory may be inferred from mythology and individual dream images. Animus and anima represent adaptation and attitude to the inner world; they serve as the bridge to the collective unconscious and are experienced as “other.”

    Dream

    In the first scene, my guy and I are watching each other masturbate over Skype. He's in his house and he ejaculates on his real wood floor. In the second scene, we're in my parents' house; they aren't there but there are children's toys around. He masturbates himself and ejaculates on their laminate wood floor. I'm anxious about this and clear up. In the third scene, I arrive in a cavernous Victorian public restroom below ground level, in London. The first chamber is a men's urinal and lots of men are pleasuring each other, it's a lively scene and they invite me in but I refuse. I move to another chamber, which is a spa, but I don't go in. In between the two chambers is a lecture theatre, and my guy is giving a work presentation to an audience. He doesn't acknowledge my arrival and I sit next to the projector under the raked chairs where the audience is sitting, and watch him present. He won't be able to see me, as he'd be blinded by the projector, but I can see him.

    References:

    Anima and Animus by Emma Jung

  • The personal shadow is created as a normal part of development, as we learn what behaviors, values and feelings are not acceptable in our family, school, or religious tradition. In order to be accepted by needed significant others, parts of ourselves have to be split off from consciousness and are therefore relegated to the unconscious as shadow. A major part of becoming more whole is discovering these exiled parts of ourselves and integrating the feelings they carry. Deb, Lisa and Joseph discuss some of the ways that shadow can be confronted and given a place at the table of consciousness.

    The Dream:

    I’m in my Dad’s wood shop, in the basement of the home where I grew up. I need to unscrew a panel on a metal box, and I’m finding the right screwdriver. The first one I pick up is too small, Mom hands me a better-sized one, a Phillips head with four fins. Somehow it is a very large size, and I notice the fins on the head are rusty. I sand away some of the rust on one of the fins, but when I come to the second, it is covered in masking tape. Instead of peeling off the tape, I try to sand away the masking tape, but the sandpaper continues to sand into the screwdriver fin itself, which is somehow made of corrugated cardboard. I am puzzled. I feel a pit in my stomach, like I’ve made a mistake. I find that only the first of the four fins is made of metal, the rest are cardboard. I “undo” (like you would on a computer) to get back to where I was after sanding the metal fin. The cardboard fins are intact again and I’m relieved. I then unscrew and open the panel of the box.

  • We define dating as the quest for serious partnership or ongoing companionship. Today’s dating world is radically different from that of even a generation ago, and is light years away from previous generations. Dating apps and social media expedite and expand the range the search for a suitable other - and often turns dating into an exercise in personal marketing. Dating also now spans an age range from teens to older - even elderly - divorced or widowed adults. If today’s dating culture provides individuals with autonomy and choice, it also denies them the safeguards provided by family, religious, and cultural norms. The online persona may be very different from the actual person, from age and appearance to character misrepresentation. Lacking social context and mutually understood social norms, individuals are required to be more aware of what they seek in another. They also need to be more aware of the projections and relational complexes to which they are susceptible.

    Dream

    I was in a big Catholic cathedral; maybe in Spain or Italy. A mass was about to start. A usually generous friend of mine pushed passed me and took the last seat with a good view, one-in from the end of a row. Then I was standing near what seemed to be the tower of an Anglican church, which stood inside the Catholic cathedral. The doors of the tower flew open and a 2 metre tall black plinth on wheels was pushed out. On the plinth was a devilish/trickster character in a black Renaissance costume, making a scary face like Hannibal Lecter. I felt some fear but also the thrill of the theatrical spectacle.

  • Experiences of physical abandonment are depicted in stories old and new as ways of out-picturing traumas of early relational abandonment. Jung articulated the archetypal foundation of what later psychologists came to call attachment theory. In an infant’s primal state of identification with a mothering other, lack of caregiver availability and attunement constitutes psychic abandonment. This is depicted in fairy tales like Hansel and Gretel and the more recent film, Pan’s Labyrinth. Both image of the inner world of the emotionally abandoned child: the archetypal world first comes forward to protect the abandoned child, only to become persecutory, like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. Abandonment may become internalized, manifesting as denial of one’s own feelings and needs. Getting in touch with one’s longing for a loving other, and grieving early loss is often the road to redemption.

    Here’s the dream we discuss:

    I'm in a house by the sea, to see and somehow help a woman. I first meet her outside - a dark, handsome man is a few paces behind her and I take him to be her lover. She appears to be in her 30s.

    Later we are inside with her family - her father has invited me there. Her husband (older, pudgier and more domesticated than her lover, but seemingly intelligent and relatively attractive) and father are talking about a sailing trip. She, sitting off to the side, interjects that she's always wanted to do a long solo voyage. Clearly this is a conversation that has happened before. Her father says it wouldn't be safe, and her husband agrees. Either she or I (I'm unsure) comment that they are more worried about her being dangerous than they are something happening to her. At this point I/we are thinking of the lover, who the family are unaware of.

    The father calmly comments that there's a large wave rising on the sea. He's standing at a window watching it. I come to take a look - it's huge; more tidal wave than wave. It breaks on the house and starts to wash it away. I'm holding on and realise that I'm in an untenable situation. I go back in time slightly, and this time as the wave hits I climb into a wooden box.

    After the water has receded I get out and try to find the family. I find the father and husband, but cannot see the woman. I'm unsure if that's because she was swept away, or because now I am the woman.

    References

    Kalsched, Donald. The Inner World of Trauma: Archetypal Defenses of the Personal Spirit.

  • Although cults occasionally make the headlines through tragedy or scandal, the defining features of cults are inherently human and manifest on spectrums of both severity and size. The word cult is derived from culture. While culture refers to the overarching characteristics of a society, cult refers negatively to a marginalized subgroup. Cults tap into universal human feelings and desires, such as the need to belong and resonance to parental influence. Although as adults we are no longer dependent on family and tribe for physical survival, our psychological needs for safety and attachment remain powerful. Deb, Lisa, and Joseph consider today’s polarized political divisions, the power of a rock concert or Fourth of July parade, and other ways in which the tension between the opposites of belonging and individuation manifests.

    Dream

    I am my current self with my current boyfriend, but I had just got married to a woman. This woman had a very powerful presence and felt radiant. She gave me a beautiful silver ring with a turquoise stone, but it didn't fit properly so I kept losing it. Each time I found it, she would add to the ring and make it even more beautiful. I told my boyfriend that I married her and that I am very happy. He took it well, and asked if we could still talk to each other and see each other every day. I said I didn't think there was a problem with that.

    Please consider becoming a Patreon supporter!

  • We all shed tears. We cry when we are sad, but also when we are glad, surprised by beauty, love, or touched by other deeply felt and uniquely human experiences. Tears, and our access to them, are part of what makes us human, and when we cannot find our tears we have lost a vital link to feeling, whether for another or a part of ourselves. In their negative aspect, tears can signify the falseness of crocodile tears or affective hardening and bitterness; teardrop tattoos represent experiences of violence. In this episode Deb, Lisa and Joseph circumambulate various aspects of the significance of tears, using the touchstones of fairy tales, alchemy, myth, religion and more to uncover the importance of tears, especially in their redemptive, or whole-making, aspect.

    Dream:

    I was a prince in a European kingdom in the Middle Ages. I was gathered with the royal family in a small but lavish room of our castle. The kingdom was suffering due to the ineptitude, corruption, and libertinism of the royal family. One princess was a harlot, and drained funds that ought to have been spent on the people. I conspired with the monk, robed in black, to kill the royal family in order to save the kingdom. I slaughtered all of them with my sword. I even killed the children present, feeling the cruelty of my act, because I knew that if I let them live they would grow up to take revenge on me. There was gallons of blood. After the killing was done, I was physically and emotionally drained, and I didn't know if I had actually saved the kingdom or committed pointless slaughter. The kingdom was nearly empty, for much of the populace had fled earlier due to the royal family's corruption.

  • Burnout is a relatively new term for job-related distress or an ongoing life situation that is unsatisfying, defeating, and creates a sense of despair. Burnout robs us of our sense of control and agency—we feel unable to change the troubling situation. Burnout can also be related to our internalized parents, moral convictions, and sense of duty. We can count on fairy tales, our psychic skeletons, to provide wisdom on resolving age-old human situations, even if they are couched in new terminology.

    In Rumpelstiltskin a young woman is told she must turn straw into gold, a mission-impossible situation. The Water of Life depicts a dying king, representative of a masculine ruling principle, who needs healing water to renew the psychic situation. We may, like the maiden faced with a roomful of straw, need to find new possibility and empowerment—or discover the inner well within that provides new water for a parched attitude. Accessing one’s internal sense of vocation, purpose and meaning has always been—and remains—necessary and attainable.

    Here’s the dream we discuss

    I find myself in a dark place, somewhere else, and I am hearing a male voice that I cannot see (coming from behind me towards the left side of my body) telling me what to do. I am obeying submissively, wanting him to know I was docile and serving him completely. I was simply cleaning a coffee machine; it seemed like an easy and ordinary task he had asked me to do and I wanted to show him how well I could do it. Suddenly, what I thought to be a black coffee machine turned out to be a human-sized male mannequin. The voice said: clean him too, clean him well. It had a wig with black mid-long hair and it had a disturbing fixed expression on its face like a rictus. It was wearing a black tuxedo with a frilly white shirt underneath.

    It scared me and disturbed me a bit but I was completely drawn to the voice and wanted to serve it, so I was cleaning with devotion--a long, creepy, silent moment. I really didn't like its outfit, and the voice then ordered me to change the mannequin's clothes to something less ceremonial. I mentally browsed my ex-husband's clothes for casual jeans and a casual shirt for the mannequin that I could grab but realized that the jeans were too small for him. I realized that the mannequin couldn't fit in "normal" less attention-grabbing clothes. The presence of that mannequin was so creepy that I woke up.

    References

    Find out more about the Philadelphia Jung Seminar. Mythologems by James Hollis Memories, Dreams, Reflections by CG Jung Fairy tales: The Water of Life and Rumpelstiltskin (see Brothers Grimm)

    Please consider becoming a Patron!

  • Images of physical dismemberment are often used in fairy tales, dreams and art to depict psychological fragmentation, numbing and other forms of disconnection. Such cut-offs, dissociations, and splits may be related to earlier relational trauma, and constitute defenses against experiences perceived as too overwhelming for consciousness to absorb or even acknowledge. Experience can be dissociated, or dismembered, behaviorally, emotionally, bodily, and by denying memory or knowledge of events. Jungian Analyst Donald Kalsched posits an inner dynamic that is both protective and persecutory. Such understandings can point the way to a healing process of re-membering those parts that have been cut off, thereby giving disowned feelings and experiences a fully felt place in consciousness.

    The Dream

    "In this dream, I remember being in a building that reminded me of a hospital or perhaps an asylum. It was very clinical looking (i.e. lots of steel and glass, white and silver walls / trim, people in smocks or scrubs). I was walking up a small stairway and looked through a doorway to see blood and body parts on the ground in front of me. Somehow I know that it was two separate bodies, but I do not know who they belonged to. When I saw the body parts, I was anxious and had to stop myself from passing out inside the dream because I had a feeling that whoever did that to the bodies could be nearby. As I gathered myself, I began to walk away from the bodies very calmly to avoid drawing attention to myself. As I walked away I saw a man, probably in his fifties or sixties, also a stranger, carrying a silver platter with more body parts. As I passed him, he said hello and smiled as if nothing were out of the ordinary. I then ran out of the building and vaguely remember running through a maze that had been set up on a basketball court until I was outside the building in a small grass field. The building was made of brick and seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It had that look that many academic buildings have on college campuses."

    References

    Kalsched, Donald. The Inner World of Trauma, Routledge, 1996.

    Gaiman, Neil. The Graveyard Book, Harper, 2008.

    Little, Margaret. Psychotic Anxieties and Containment: An Analysis with Donald Winnicott.

    Henderson, Joseph L. and Dyane N. Sherwood. Transformation of the Psyche, Routledge, 2003.

    For an image of The Golden Head

  • Although the word voyage connotes a sea journey, this episode considers a voyage to be an intentional trip of any kind. A voyage can range from a vacation in Vegas to a pilgrimage to a sacred site. Such journeys may be solitary, or, like the famed pilgrimage in The Canterbury Tales, in the company of fellow travelers. We tell our stories to others and to ourselves, companioned by our own inner images and/or others. Voyages take us to unfamiliar places, and a changed external environment stimulates projections, judgments and reactions. Free of the constraints of cultural norms and internalized values, a new landscape provides an opportunity to experience ourselves as a stranger to others -- and perhaps to ourselves. When at last we return home we are changed, perhaps transformed.

    Here’s the dream we discuss:

    (This dream was 15yrs ago) I am leading a group of men walking up a cobblestone road in a village high up in the Himalayas. I have a wooden staff and am walking quickly. A panicked man runs towards us saying "They have the children!" We start to run toward a large wooden building with a stone roof. The only access is a wooden staircase. I climb the staircase that leads to an open room with children pinned in fear against the walls. In the centre of the room is a demon with a highly muscular body covered in fine red hair and a pig/human head. There are many more in the room. It ignores us and is about to rape a young naked boy who is bent over in front of it. My fear turns to white anger and my staff turns into a sword which I lift up to my right ear with both hands. The demon turns to me just as I cut its head off. A pitched battle starts between my men and the demons. We initially succeed but the demons start to conquer. My last thought is calm and peaceful. It is "Today I die but what a way to die."

    Resources

    You can read more here about the Philadelphia Jung Seminar.

    Please consider becoming a Patreon supporter!

  • Loneliness is a deeply human and universal experience. Lisa, Joseph and Deb examine it from multiple perspectives: as it may be experienced in young adulthood versus older years; as reflective of the need for attachment and relational security; as comparable to the alchemical metaphors of calcinatio and solutio; as a call to activation in outer and inner worlds; and as a psychologically toxic phenomenon.

    The dream:

    I dreamt I was haphazardly packing up my family’s things after a stay at a friend’s house. In the bathroom I find I have my period and have bled through all my cloth pads. My underwear in soaked and bright red. I am overwhelmed by the color and amount of blood. Could I use their washing machine, I wonder? After some thought I decide to make a pad with toilet paper. Then I head upstairs looking for my husband and kids.

    Going up I remember that we considered buying this house once but decided it was too big and needed too much work. It’s beautiful now. I go upstairs to the attic. There are deep rich rugs and walls in browns and reds, quiet tables and chairs. It feels good. High ceilings, 30 feet, but the space is still warm and encompassing. My family is here. I see the kids' bunk bed to the left. In front of me is a huge window with a view of an enormous maple tree in full red color. It is astonishing, such beauty, leaves rustling. Talking with my husband I recall how when we last saw this place it was derelict, holes in the roof, floor boards missing, pipes exposed. A real mess. The transformation is incredible. I think of the work and expense it was to bring those windows up! I love this place.

    To the left there is another huge window split in three sections and shows a long view across plains to distant mountains. We are shockingly high. The view is beautiful but suddenly I fee dizzy. I am afraid of heights and need to sit down. My son is fooling around near the windows. I tell myself he’s fine but I am still afraid. Are the windows sound? I tell myself he’ll be fine, my husband is with him, but can’t tolerate the feeling. I head for the stairs down.

  • Many a fairy tale features hiding as a strategic defense. Jack, of beanstalk fame, hides from the giant in order to survive and discover his treasure. We often hide when we feel small and life events and people feel big. Hiding can be a conscious decision, whether for fun, as in the game of hide and seek, or out of necessity, as Anne Frank’s family’s had to do. Hiding can also be an unconscious phenomenon, particularly if there has been trauma, in order to protect the inviolable life of the soul. How, then, does an individual come out of hiding to discover him- or herself?

    The Dream:

    I was on a mountain trip in a van driven by a man with dreadlocks. He was driving myself and some others high up on the mountainside. It was a beautiful and clear winter day. I suddenly had a feeling that we were going to crash. It was a very windy road and he was driving so fast that he couldn't make the hairpin turn. We flew off the road and into mid-air. Life was suddenly in slow motion and I thought I should try to call my boyfriend while we were flying through the air and tell him what was happening. I awoke before the van started to fall.

    Books:

    The Inner World of Trauma and The Soul and Trauma by Donald Kalsched, PhD. Available on Amazon.

  • Listeners contributed examples of precognitive dreams for this episode. Lisa, Joseph, and Deb discuss theoretical concepts and listener dreams from various vantage points: the intuitive capacity of the unconscious, the synchronous intersection of matter and psyche, and activation of an archetype. These and other ways of knowing are beyond the scope of ego and call us to the realization that the ego, as Jung said, is a part of and connected to something larger that is ultimately mysterious. Jung compared this process to the plants called rhizomes. Their horizontal underground stems which put out lateral shoots and flowers that pop up, as into consciousness, at various intervals. Jung also likened precognition to weather forecasting, likely possibilities subject to a variety of manifestations.

    Listeners’ Precognitive Dreams Discussed (not necessarily in order)

    I was at a Subway (sandwich shop) and I was buying a $5 Footlong (sandwich). When I was checking out the person at the register said my total was $11.20. I ended up not buying the sandwich and left the restaurant. That was the end of the dream. The very next day my friends and I were playing a game called “What do you Meme” and this was my first time ever playing the game. There are 250 pictures and 250 random captions and the point of the game is to give a picture a caption. I chose 5 caption cards at random and the very first card I chose was captioned: When your $5 Footlong Subway sandwich turns out to be $11.29. Mind you, there were 250 cards for me to choose from and that’s the very fist one I picked! Approximately 30 years ago I had a dream (that) haunts me to this day…I was 21 or so and my brother 19. He left for active duty in the army. For a week or so, I had very odd vivid dreams regarding him. The most prevailing theme of the dreams was death. The final dream of that time period was me opening my apartment door, the person knocking fell through my doorway, holding their face, writhing in pain, and having short dark hair. Moments later, more knocking began, I called through the closed door, requesting to know who it was…it was my brother trying to enter with a gun…I held the door closed…while looking over my shoulder at the individual squirming in pain on the floor, asking if he/she was OK. This dream occurred in March of that year. Later in that same year in August, we planned a trip out of town so I thought I would make contact with a friend in that area, to possibly meet at some point to catch up on things. I called her number, her husband answered…I asked to speak with MJ and he remained silent for a moment. He then stated MJ had died in March of a suicide. MJ had short dark hair, as the person did in my dream. A gun was involved in both her suicide as well as my dream. And the dream occurred in March, the month she killed herself. In the dreams I suddenly realize that I am about to give birth. I casually find an available place to lie down—a table, a couch, or a picnic blanket. I give birth quickly without any effort or pain, and two toddlers, a boy and a girl, run around the table, couch, or picnic blanket joyfully yelling, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy”! I had twins, a boy and a girl. I had the first of these dreams before pregnancy was even confirmed, and did not know I was carrying twins until my 7th month; their sex was known only at birth. I am an Indigenous Australian woman. I was taken away from my birth mother at the age of 4 months. Fostered, then adopted by Scandinavian parents at 4 years old. I left home at 18 and pursued a career as a community advocate, married and have 2 children. The laws changed in Australia when I was 30 so that I was able to gain my original birth certificate and some small bits of information about my birth mother. The dream commenced my journey to find my birth family. I dreamt of 7 women in the desert, red earth country, in line next to each other with digging sticks. They were all singing a song in language I did not understand. They were digging in unison searching for yams. I was feeling so serene and full of joy. Then I dreamt of all these older men and women smiling and speaking to me in language I did not understand. They at the end of the dream conveyed a sense of urgency, a job I must do. Through my phone calls that day I found my birth mother and my eldest sister. My mum lives 2 streets from me. Since that day 27 years ago I have found all my family. I am at peace. I have had tons of precognitive dreams throughout my life, The past 5 years they have been happening more. The most recent two was after I had had my first pregnancy. I miscarried the baby at 12 weeks and was really torn up about it. My partner and I were separating and I was just overall confused with my entire life at that point and very suicidal. One night I had a dream of a little boy, maybe 8 or so, and he told me, “Wait until December.” Asked him why but he would just keep telling me to wait. That it was important and he promised everything would be okay. I had that dream in September. And it left me with such a feeling that I can’t describe. It was very powerful, so I waited for December. Nothing happened. By then I had somewhat healed from the miscarriage and was doing well living on my own. My partner and I were separated but still seeing each other but agreed a relationship wasn’t right at the moment. Fast forward to February and my period is late. So I take a pregnancy test and it comes up negative. I save it for whatever reason and continue on. A few weeks later I still don’t have my period, which isn’t out of the ordinary for me, but I feel weird. I look at the pregnancy test I took a few weeks prior and see the faintest second line. Of course I cried. I couldn’t believe it. When I went in to get my first ultrasound they told me I conceived sometime in December. It made me smile. I believe that is what the little boy was telling me to wait for. While I was pregnant I would have dreams of the same little boy. But as I got farther in my pregnancy he got younger in my dreams. I could see his face and I knew his name and everything. I knew I was having a boy but asked the ultrasound techs not to tell me because I wanted a gender reveal party. When I was 8 months pregnant we did the reveal and just like I had guessed, it was a boy! And when I finally gave birth, he had the same face of the little boy I always saw in my dreams. The same boy who told me to wait until December.

    The Dream:

    I was standing in front of a house - my house (although it did not resemble my actual house). It was the first time I had been round the front of the house, as usually, I would enter via the back door. I had run out of space in my back garden for more plants, and so I was excited to discover all this space at the front of the house, for planting. However, all of the available planting space was in the shade or under cover of some sort. There was a nice area right in front of the house, but it sloped downwards towards the house so it would be tricky to plant there. In addition, I thought that area was too close to the house to plant a tree, in case it interfered with the foundations. Just next to this sloping ground I noticed that at the point where the sunshine did actually reach the ground, some beautiful bluebells were growing.

  • Individuation, the central concept of Jung’s psychology, is the foundational image and aspiration of Jungian psychoanalysis – and life. It is the theme of many a fairy tale, the sought-for treasure of a quest, and the “juice” that makes symbols compelling. Individuation has an innate developmental arc and a psychological trajectory that allows us to bring conscious intention to our own individuation process. However, vital transformational events are not simply occurrences ego alone can command; they are ultimately mysterious. They arise independently from the unconscious and what Jung termed the Self, the center, circumference and true center of the personality. In this episode Joseph, Lisa and Deb circumambulate and amplify the concept of individuation and images of the Self.

    The Dream:

    In the beginning of the dream, it's morning. I'm waiting for my father in the house where I grew up. We are about to drive halfway across the country to look at graduate schools. It is nearing afternoon and we still haven't left the house. I know from previous experience that it takes more than a full day of driving to reach our destination, which leaves me feeling anxious.

    Now my parents and I are in the car heading down the highway. From the backseat, where I used to sit, I'm looking outside. We reach an empty stretch of road surrounded on either side by farmland. The sky is overcast- halfway between rain and sunset; I notice a few geese flying across the road from the left of my line of vision in a small V-shaped formation. Once they have reached the other side they circle back, flying in the opposite direction; they have doubled in numbers and form a more unified chevron.

    I am standing in a field with my girlfriend. We are watching the dark shapes of the geese bobbing in the dusk. Suddenly they start to glow, one by one, as if each is carrying on their bodies a neon orb, similar to a brake light. I look down in the mud by my shoes and see a broken red light, one that could fit on a bike; I tell my girlfriend that the cracked object must have come from the geese. She agrees with me, which I find very reassuring.

  • What is “I’m sorry” as a habitual response really about? There’s the preemptive apology that is offered to forestall possible criticism, the apology that evokes reassurance from others, the apology for falling short of perfection…and more. This episode explores developmental, interpersonal, and intrapsychic dynamics of various kinds of habitual apologizing. We’ll be sorry if it falls short of your expectations.

    The Dream:

    I'm at a holiday "work party" for the very exclusive private school where I work, but it's in a big, old, rather shabby hotel that reminds me of a firehouse where my family used to have annual holiday gatherings. I'm mingling among all of the people and (as is true in my conscious life) can't seem to find a group with which I feel completely comfortable or myself. I feel like a lonely misfit in disguise, feigning conformity and pleasant attitude. I go upstairs to where the bathroom is supposed to be, and it feels very far away from the party--the second floor is creepily empty and quiet, with several large, empty rooms. I don't remember actually going into a bathroom, but as I'm about to go back downstairs to the party, I see an infant boy teetering at the top of the staircase on the landing. He is far too small to be walking. I immediately pick him up to save him, and he looks up at me, clearly distressed, and begins speaking as a much older child would. I ask him where his mother is, and he says he doesn't know, and is crying.

    I don't remember all of what he says, but he tells me that he is in kindergarten. I hold him to my chest and he begins to calm down, eventually falling asleep. I feel affection for him and give him a kiss on the cheek, but I'm alarmed and unsure of what we will do. I go downstairs to the bartender of this party and ask where this boy's mother might be. He says, "probably in the party upstairs." No one at the work party seems to notice or care that I have this lost baby. I go back upstairs, and as before, there is no one there--just an open door exposing a room with these creepy, industrial looking blue closet doors (almost like storage spaces) underneath a fluorescent light. I feel a deep sense that this situation is not right, and a strong determination to get myself and the baby out of there. The dream ends with me standing on the landing, baby still pressed against me.

  • In this podcast, we focus on animals as symbols of instincts that have often been repressed in order to conform to cultural norms. When some aspect of our instinctual nature returns to us as a dream animal we can find ourselves fleeing, fighting, denying, or befriending an aspect of ourselves represented by that animal. Because animals have objectively known characteristics, dream creatures can provide specific clues about lost aspects of ourselves that we may need to reclaim. Finding the right relationship to our inner animals can contribute to our wholeness.

    The dream:

    I am in the kitchen in our house (the house is huge with very big kitchen and back door leading from the kitchen to what it seems like a farm yard) and trying to prepare some food. My father (who is not living with us in my dream and is separated from my mother) bursts in the kitchen. He is drunk and looking for food to eat. His dog is following him. The dog is very beautiful German Shepherd like, the long hair type variety and completely beige/blond in color. I love the dog very, very much. My father isn’t in a good mood. He starts digging in the fridge for food and complaining that there isn’t anything to eat. He starts pushing things and shouting that there isn’t even any fruit to eat. I am trying to calm him down and give him some of my fruit I bought for breakfast. He is getting more demanding and greedy insisting I give him more and more. I am getting upset, as I am not going to have any fruit left for my breakfast. On the following day the whole scene in the kitchen repeats again. I am giving my father cherries and he keeps asking for more until he gets all my cherries. When I run out of cherries (which I really love and wanted to enjoy eating, so I am very upset he took them all from me) he starts demanding I give him all my blueberries too. I give him some, but he keeps insisting for more and he is getting very greedy. His hands are full and he can’t hold any more blueberries, but he keeps asking for more. The blueberries are starting to roll off his hand and fall on the floor. I am growing more upset and angry at him. I am trying to get him to stop demanding more and go away. The feeling that I hate him and my anger and feeling of disgust towards him are growing inside of me and I am about to burst out shouting and who knows what else. I am already half shouting at him to stop being so greedy. At this moment the dog starts to half bark, half cry very loudly and I know this means my mum is coming back home. My father’s dog adores my mother and always reacts like that when she is around. In the next moment my mum enters the kitchen through the back door and the dog runs to her for big hug and pet. My mum adores the dog too. We all do. He is such a beautiful and cuddly thing and I couldn’t understand why it is with my dad. I always wished the dog stayed with us when they split. We all felt like we lost a sibling…I almost felt like I don’t want to see my drunk, horrible and greedy father, but I don’t want to lose his dog and in order to see the dog I have to put up with my father’s greed and bad behavior (Strange)…. I wake up

    We referenced The Book of Symbols: Reflections on Archetypal Symbols, ARAS (Archive for Research in Archetypal Symbolism), Taschen publishers, 2010.