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| Meditation/Review of Day |
| 01.21.06 (9:21 am) [edit] |
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Go ahead. Try it. It's not as easy as you may think. I sat today for twelve minutes, trying to concentrate on my breath. In, out, one; in, out, two, and so forth. Before I knew it, my mind had trailed off onto other things. Of course, when I realized that my mind was wandering, I would bring it back to the breath, trying not to judge myself but feeling, honestly, like I might never be good at this. I am such a novice. (There goes that judgment again! And again.)
Review of the Day (20 January 2006/Friday)
Yesterday was very busy. At one time, reviewing some work I had done, I caught an omission. I wanted to blame someone else. "Why can't I have better help?" I thought. Then I realized that the responsibility was mine. That was, no doubt, a helpful step, but then I blamed myself. Blame -- who is it in me that wants to assign blame? Could we talk?
I remember at one point that a co-worker came into the room. I tend to be warm and friendly with everyone, but I feel false with this man. I know that he is openly critical of me (except when I am around), and I am his supervisor. I have been accused of not holding him accountable for inappropriate patterns he displays, and I know that, soon, I will be asked to comment on his behavior. I feel all sorts of tension inside about this. I don't want to see him get hurt, but, at the same time, I know that he is the source of pain for others. What is the wise course in this? Why am I not responding with confidence to this difficulty?
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| A Dream |
| 01.18.06 (5:55 pm) [edit] |
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A dream: I am at the home of an older woman named Jane, a respected member of our church (not in waking life, only in this dream). There are several people gathered at the house to console Jane because of the death of her long time friend and house mate.
I try to engage someone in conversation about the matter, but I cannot get much response from anyone. I wander around the house a bit, asking over and over, “How’s Jane?” I can’t get anyone to tell me. I then walk into the central room of the house. There, lying on a bed in the middle of the room, is Jane, crying inconsolably, and, next to her on the bed, is the corpse of the woman who has died. I somehow know that the dead woman had nothing of her own but that Jane shared all her belongings with this woman. I do not know how to comfort Jane, and I feel helpless and unnecessary.
Reflection
Associations -- (1) The house -- Nothing in particular comes to mind when I think about the house in my dream. It is like many large, older houses I have been in -- once glorious but now showing signs of age. Impermanence comes to mind.
(2) The crowd -- Again, this is a nondescript group of people. I don’t recall feeling that I knew anyone in particular, and they certainly didn’t seem to know me (or how important and helpful I could be!). Their indifference to me prompted my feeling of being unnecessary.
(3) The “unnecessary” feeling -- I came home late last night from a Finance Committee meeting, in which the theme was, “Year by year, we’re approving budgets that are beyond our means. One of these years, it’s going to catch up with us.” I had a vague feeling that, if I were not around, my successor could come on board at a lower salary, and balance could be restored. I didn’t feel so much unnecessary as I did burdensome.
(4) The corpse -- This recently deceased older woman has no name in the dream, but I have the sense (in the dream) that I know her.
(5) Jane -- In the dream, Jane is an older woman, a close friend and benefactor to the deceased. Interestingly, my wife is sometimes mistakenly called “Jane.” I’m not sure whether there is a connection here. Not to get ahead of myself, but I am thinking that these two older women may likely represent some quality of my inner feminine (anima). One association I may make is this: Last night, as I was leaving the church, a small group was just breaking up. In the group was L. R., an older woman whose sister, Jean (sounds almost like Jane) has Alzheimer’s and is dying.
(6) Inconsolable grief -- In the dream, Jane was weeping uncontrollably, her loss was so painful. I am wondering what losses I am dealing with. Of course, J. D., our associate, is in the process of leaving. (Sunday was his last official day with us.) I realize that I am going to miss the feedback he provided me. Also, I talked with a member of a search committee last night before going to bed and asked that he committee no longer consider me. That was a kind of loss. Another association that comes to mind is that I see myself as being at my best in grief situations. Maybe I’m not all that great! I certainly wasn’t very important in this dream.
(7) Death -- I am not infrequently around death, but I have not had anyone close to me die recently. I am thinking that the death in the dream has to do with a transformation in my inner life. Some aspect of my internal world may be undergoing transformation (death and, hopefully, rebirth).
(8) Age -- In the dream, I am particularly aware of the age of the house, the deceased, and the woman named Jane. They are all old. I am, of course, approaching old age, and I have lot of ambivalence about it. To push the matter just a bit, I am thinking that my fear of aging may suggest a fear of death.
Dynamics -- (1) Being in Jane’s house -- The house in which the dream is set is not my house. I am making a call. Like many others there, I am a guest. Since the house is old (and since the dream comes from within me), I wonder if aging is something I am unwilling to own. “Old age is for old people, and I do not belong in it.”
(2) Death -- A woman lies dead in the dream. I wonder what in me has died or needs to die or may soon die. As I mentioned, an important relationship has come or is coming to an end soon; or, if it doesn’t actually end, it will certainly be modified (by distance, infrequency of contact, and lack of customary intensity). But that may not be the whole picture. Over the last few years, I have descended deeper and deeper into an awareness of how inconsequential (and how impermanent) I actually am. Maybe what is dying is my inflated ego.
(3) Inconsolable grief -- Jane is weeping and will accept comfort from no one. What does this mean if I take Jane to represent something within me? Perhaps it is that I am unwilling to be consoled in my grief over necessary losses. Maybe I am still in denial about the changes taking place in my life.
(4) A feeling of being unnecessary -- Feeling useless and being uncertain about what to do in settings like the one in the dream is not a strange experience for me. It has happened often in my external life. I am not sure that it is the right response to the death of whatever is passing away in me. It may be symptomatic of emerging despair (ala Erikson’s final developmental conflict of integrity v. despair). Perhaps, what I need to do is consider how to meet my end with integrity (wholeness).
(5) Jane as benefactor -- In the dream, I am somehow aware that the deceased has had a patron in Jane. Jane invited her into her home, took care of her, and treated her like a sister. What could this mean? Is it that the dream image of inconsolable grief is a beneficent signal to me? Could it be saying, “Hey! Death has come/is coming in various guises. Prepare yourself to meet it with integrity.”
Central Message -- What is this dream saying to me? It may be saying that death is a part of life, whether it’s the “little death” of a changing relationship, the figurative death of “letting go” of one stage of life to embrace another or even of letting go of personal aspirations that didn’t pan out (I thought I was indispensable, but I am not), or, ultimately, actual, physical demise.
But that’s not the total message of the dream. I think that I am being asked to respond in some way. And my response may be to begin to develop healthy ways of acknowledging and grieving my losses. I don’t want to wind up in what Erikson called despair; I want to finish with integrity (wholeness) whether its at the end of life’s journey or at the end of any of the many cycles of life along the way.
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| Two Dreams |
| 01.11.06 (11:30 am) [edit] |
Two dreams:
In the first dream, I am working at a coffee shop, something like a Starbucks. Only, this shop is like an unused barn out in the country. In the first part of the dream, I join the crew on a walk in the woods. As we start out, I notice that a large structure, a building, dominates the near horizon. I comment on how big it is. As we return, we approach the "barn," our shop, and I notice how large it seems.
In the second part of the dream, we arrive back inside the shop/barn, and there are some new crew members. One of them, a young man, complains about having to work in such a primitive place as this, and another one of the new crew members, a young woman (I think), concurs.
I speak up in defense of the shop and its original crew, saying, “Did you know that one of our crew members is from Manhattan? You can't get more sophisticated than that!”
Next, I am leaving the shop/barn alone, and I notice some customers beginning to arrive. They are from the nearby upscale neighborhood. I notice, in particular, a woman in a striking business suit. She seems quite elegant, and I think to myself what a high class clientele the shop has. With that thought, I continue to walk away.
In the second dream, I am at home. While at the dinner table, I receive a phone call from a parishioner whom I have been counseling. He has had some destructive behavior problems in the past, but lately he has been on top of things. Soon after I hang up, I return to the table, and the phone rings again. I consider not answering it, but the ringing persists. I check the caller ID, and I see that it is another counselor who has been working with my parishioner. I answer the phone, apologizing for taking so long to do so. The counselor says, “Name [withheld] is at it again, isn‚t he?” suggesting that the parishioner has succumbed once more to his addictive behavior. I defend the parishioner, saying that I believe he is doing better and has been exercising control over his behavior.
Reflection
I am not sure where these dreams are coming from. The only association I can think of with regard to the first dream (the coffee shop) is that my son has worked for Starbucks off and on for the past few years. I myself do not even drink coffee.
One possible connection is that my wife told me just last night about a conversation of which she had been a part that day. The incident involved two members of our congregation who were being highly critical of our church. I became mildly anxious at hearing this and thought we might lose these members.
Another possible association has to do with our staff meeting yesterday, in which I learned that each member of the staff is demoralized and feels criticized and unappreciated.
The second dream is directly connected to my experience in working with a man I know who is having problems with addictive behavior. It has been several weeks, however, since I have talked with him at any length, although I did see him and briefly exchange greetings a few days ago. This man has had a few relapses, and I would not be shocked if I learned that he has had another one (although the stakes are very high for him).
I guess what I’m wondering is what my unconscious wants to tell me through these two dreams. I notice that the common factor in both dreams is my effort to defend those who are being criticized -- in the first instance, the coffee shop and its crew, and, in the second, the man whose counselor accused him of relapse.
So, is it that I am feeling the need to defend my church staff, my church, and this one parishioner? I will need to reflect on this further.
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| A Dream Fragment |
| 01.09.06 (9:51 am) [edit] |
I am working through an interactive book on spirituality, and the instructions say to choose a text from "your tradition's treasure chest." The book offers a sample, which comes from an aboriginal source -- something about, if a woman offends a man, she may ask his forgiveness, but even if he gives it, she now has no reason to go on living. There is even an illustration in the book, a photograph of a colorful mask that looks like a baboon head. The picture gives the experience a “primitive” tone. In the dream, I feel more resonance with the texts from other traditions than I do with those from my own.
Reflection
This dream is more “cerebral” than most dreams I remember. I do spend a lot of time reading, and spirituality is one of the subjects about which I enjoy reading. I have a number of so-called “interactive” books, books that are not meant just to be read but rather to be worked through. However, I have never really had the discipline to “work through” any of the books.
One of the books, however, that I have is David Feinstein and Stanley Krippner’s The Mythic Path. And there is an exercise in it that comes to mind as I relfect on this dream. It has to do with identifying “underlying mythic conflict,” that is, becoming aware when a guiding myth is “no longer an ally.”
I don’t know that that is what my feelings in the dream are suggesting, those feelings that I am drawn more to the texts of other traditions than to those of my own. But it may be worth exploring.
I am puzzled by the focus of the primitive text on a woman’s offense. If I take the matter inward and consider the feminine principle within my psyche, I usually think that I have in some way offended my anima. Why would I be dreaming about women offending men?
I do recall reading recently in Robert A. Johnson’s book, Lying with the Heavenly Woman, that “the mother complex,” that interior dynamic that urges us toward regression and dependency, is especially antagonistic to health and growth. My “mother complex” arises often, I think, in connection with my sense of being vulnerable, helpless, and unworthwhile.
That is the only connection I can make at this time regarding the content of the passage I am reading in the dream.
The dream on the whole may be inviting me into a more deliberate course with the books I have collected that are meant not only to be read but to be experienced.
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| Two Dreams |
| 01.05.06 (8:46 am) [edit] |
[Today is the Twelfth Day of Christmas, which makes tonight Twelfth Night. Tomorrow, January 6, will be the day of Epiphany.]
Again last night, just before going to sleep, I asked for a dream that I could remember. I was given two. I am very thankful.
In the first dream, I am traveling in the car with my wife. We are somewhere, it seems, in the central part of the state, and we are trying to get back home (in the northern part of the state). We have a discussion about the best route, and the options she presents would take us out of the way. To one suggestion I say, “That would mean going south to go north.” I accede to the other suggestion, that we go via a large city far to the north, although I know that that, too, will make the trip longer.
We drive into town and arrive at the bus station. Once inside, I say, “C-- [my daughter] will get home before we do,” suggesting, I guess, that, if she takes the bus, she will arrive home ahead of us. (Busses, of course, are notoriously slow.) Up until now, I have not been aware of our daughter’s presence with us, and, even after this, it does not seem to figure in a large way. My wife seems to be concerned that I am suggesting that our daughter not travel with us, and I tell her that I am only joking.
We go through a glass door to the driveway of the bus station. A small number of people have just arrived and are getting off a bus. I recognize a child, a little girl from our daughter’s childhood, and I call her by name. (She is still a child.) She responds to me by holding out a Santa doll and saying, “Santa’s tail is broken.” I look at the doll, and there does seem to be some damage to it. I say in an attempt to be comforting, “Yes, Santa does seem to be broken.”
Just then, I see the child’s mother in the distance. I cannot remember her name, but I acknowledge her. She is not unfriendly, but neither is she especially warm. She is busy and somewhat frazzled, trying to gather her things.
In the second dream, I am a woman! There is in the dream a young black family whose little boy is very sick. Despite this, he is quite active and resists going to the hospital. There are two episodes in the dream -- one at the child’s house and the other in the car at the hospital.
When I arrive at the boy’s house, his parents and others have been trying to catch him, while he is running around in an effort to elude them. I recognize immediately what is going on, and when he runs near me, I reach out and grab him by a bit of clothing. He is surprised and seems to have been unaware that I was in the house. I hold him by the shirt until his mother can get to him.
To my surprise, the first thing she does is take off his pants. I say, “If he hadn’t had those on, I couldn’t have caught him.”
We are now at the hospital, and all of us are trying to get the child out of the back seat. Again, he resists. I say as I reach out to him, “Come on. Let’s go.” He looks at me and, with resoluteness, says, “No.”
I then notice that, at his feet is a cylinder-shaped plastic container, about the size of a medium-sized waste basket. At the bottom of the container is a ring, a toy ring I think. The little boy wants it, although his parents say he can’t have it -- I am guessing because he is being so uncooperative. I say, “No, let him have it, and I reach into the container to get it for him.” End of dream.
Reflection
Clearly, both of these dreams feature children, one a little girl and the other a little boy. Both children are in a situation of need. One wants help in addressing the need (the broken Santa doll), and the other (the little boy who needs medical attention) resists help.
I am not sure about the gender roles in these dreams -- why one child is a girl and the other a boy, or even why in the second dream I have the sense of being a woman. This may signify some anima work that I need to do. I certainly can see some disconnects between me and the women in the first dream. I am in mild tension with my wife about which direction to take home. I am barely aware of my daughter’s presence. And I cannot remember the name of the child’s mother.
In any case, my intention in both dreams is to be nurturing and attentive to the children in need. This could relate to what some writers call “the inner child,” and, if so, my inner child may need some nurture and attention.
The first dream, of course, has the material about trying to find the best way home. Interestingly, I am firm at first -- about going south to go north -- but, then, I acquiesce and agree to go too far north. I am not sure why we go to the bus station. It is there that I see the little girl who needs help with her doll. That may be reason enough.
Note: It has taken about an forty-five minutes (7:50 - 8:35 a.m.) to record and reflect on these dreams.
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| A Dream |
| 01.04.06 (10:05 am) [edit] |
Last night, as I lay on my pillow, I asked for a dream that I would be able to remember. I had had a pretty stressful day, much of the stress occasioned by three events. The first was lunch with a friend and fellow worker. During our conversation at the table, my friend began to say that he could foresee a power play in the work place in which I would eventually lose my job. I was greatly shaken by his remarks and somewhat despondent and anxious the rest of the day.
The second event was a meeting with another colleague shortly after lunch in which he predicted a great deal of trouble for the office in the future, again due to the alignment of power.
Until I had these two conversations, I had been thinking that things would work out for me at the job. I had even exited one job search process. But I had in my email inbox a request for a telephone interview with a prospective employer I talked with once before. The request was for last night.
I wrote back and said yes, I would like to talk. During the interview, I presented myself well, but, after about forty-five minutes, one member of the committee said there was a question that was plaguing the group. Would it work, he asked, for me to leave a larger situation with a larger income for a smaller situation with a smaller income? Could they afford me?
I told them that that was a question with which I was struggling and that I would need more time. They agreed, and the task for me now is to determine whether I can be happy with less money.
I talked with my wife about all three incidents, and, while I couldn’t read her very well, I am guessing that she is distressed about the prospect of moving to a place where we would have less income. (I am not even sure we could meet our obligations on the amount offered.)
So, this was the situation as I went to bed last night. I asked for a dream, and I got one. It came in two parts.
In the first part of the dream, I am at some sort of event with people I do not know. I am not even sure what kind of gathering it is. It takes place in a residence, and there are, maybe, fifty people present, scattered throughout the house. There is food available for grazing, and I have eaten and placed my dishes on a table near me.
Then there is a song. It has movements with it, and, while I am vaguely aware of how to engage the movements, I imitate a couple near me (a man and a woman, presumably married) who seem to make the movements very well. I am aware that, when we sing, “I stir,” we are all to make a stirring movement with our hands. When we sing, “I wave,” we are to wave with our hands. The couple near me appear very graceful in their motions, and I wonder whether I am graceful. I doubt it; in fact, I am slightly put off by the song, even though I am willing to participate. Finally, we sing, “I stand up,” and, of course, I stand up with everyone else. While standing, we are to spin, and, again, I do not feel as graceful as the others.
Then, when the song is over, there is to be a toast, and some form of beverage is being served. I do not have a glass. I notice that others are using their bowls for glasses. Someone (the man in the couple I have been imitating) has discarded a bit of trash into my bowl, which is on the small table to my side. I think about using it anyway, but then I decide to leave the event.
This is where the second part of the dream begins. I am traveling (by auto?) through a city (my home town) to join my wife, but I do not know where she is. I see a star in the night sky and decide to advance toward it. I am aware of traffic and other people, but I seem to move with ease -- even though I don’t know where I am going.
Presently, I am afoot and walking outside a building. I am very intrigued by it and walk around to the back of the structure, where there is an alley entrance. The address is 1215, and I think to myself, “This is exactly the kind of place I would like to live.” It is simple, appears small, and would be quite cheap.
I enter the building and go upstairs. There is a balcony that looks out on a very plush garden, located across the street. There are people there, lounging around a pool. It is very lovely but inaccessible. I jump from one balcony to another, but there is no way to get to the garden. I think to myself, “Rich people and their gardens!” I am not necessarily critical, simply aware.
At the top of the stairs is a hallway on which there is a door to an apartment. In an alcove to the left of the door is a refrigerator. I think, “I could use a Coke,” so I look in the refrigerator, but there is nothing except empty cartons.
The door to the apartment is unlocked, so I enter and look around. It is modest but nice. I notice a phone on a table and think about using it to call my wife. But then I become aware that someone might live here, and I think how frightened they would be if they heard my voice. I look down a hallway to what I presume is a bedroom, but I see no one.
Nevertheless, I quietly step outside the door, close it, and knock! I will ask to use the phone if anyone comes to the door. I cannot seem to knock loudly enough. I look for something to use to make a louder noise, and, while I try a few objects, nothing seems to rouse anyone.
Then I notice a cat in the hall. It is playing with a toy, so I join in the game. As I toss the toy to the cat, the animal seems to get quite ferocious with it, shaking it (as cats do their prey) and mauling it. It comes to shreds. I think, “If that cat wanted to, it could probably hurt me.” I continue playing with the cat, and, while not frightened, I am cautious. End of dream.
Reflection
There are many details in this dream, but there seem to be two broad themes. One is leavetaking; the other is searching and exploring. I exit one place, and seek entry at another.
The crowded house -- with its grazing, singing, bodily movements, and toasting -- brings to mind something I have known about myself for a while but which was brought home with emphasis when I went through a two-day program at a career development center. I tend to take my cues from others; I seem not to have discovered my own inner guide. I don’t know what I think or even what I feel; I need someone else to tell me.
So, there I am in the dream, going through the motions, imitating someone else, wondering how I appear and feeling quite inadequate. Then I leave! I do not have a clean vessel with which to join in the toast, and I don’t like the place anyway. So, I leave. This seems uncharacteristic of me and, therefore, somewhat praiseworthy.
Does this mean that I am to leave my present post? I don’t know. It may mean simply that I am ready to stop looking to others for approval and make up my own mind.
What about the modest upstairs apartment? It is inviting to me. It is secluded and not extravagant, and I feel comfortable there. But it is not mine. I enter it and then realize that I am trespassing. Even though I knock to get in, my knocking is ineffectual and doesn’t rouse anyone. This is not the place for me.
What does this mean? that I am not yet ready for a move? I don’t know. It may mean simply that I am in-between; I haven’t yet found where I belong. There is still the search for the Star and my wife. I haven’t found them yet. Perhaps I am being distracted from the real search I have before me. What I am looking for (my wife, the Star) is not to be found in this city apartment. Maybe the real journey lies within.
And what about the cat? It carries both playfulness and the prospect of danger. I do not feel threatened by it but cautious. Maybe I am being shown that, while there are potentially dangerous forces, they are manageable.
Note: It has taken about an hour (8:45 - 9:45 a.m.) to record and reflect on this dream.
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| A New Year |
| 01.02.06 (10:12 pm) [edit] |
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Monday, January 2, 2006
Here it is, the beginning of a new year. I would really like to make strides this year in the area of personal growth, and I have gotten off to a pretty good start. Yesterday, January 1, I read in its entirety the book by Robert A. Johnson entitled Lying with the Heavenly Woman. I also started Transformations and then finished it today. After that, I began working on his volume entitled Owning Your Own Shadow. I am not quite through it yet. Johnson is a Jungian analyst, and I find Jung's theory of individuation promising for my own journey.
I don't really know what I expect. I am plagued by a pervasive, low-grade anxiety, and I feel that too much of my life has passed for me to be at the point of growth at which I find myself. So...we'll see.
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