Symbol Watcher

Jung said a house can also stand for the dreamer's body and can provide clues to the existence of physical illness the dreamer might not even know exists.

Most of us have had dreams where we’re exploring the inside of an unfamiliar house, or we’re discovering new rooms in a house we thought we knew well. It’s easy to understand why houses play such a prominent role in our unconscious. Houses are the center of our existence. They are both our private spaces and our social hubs. They are the first dwellings around which human civilization was built.

A couple nights ago, I dreamt I was considering moving into a large old home where I would have my own large room, but the kitchen and bath were communal; I would share them with the other tenants in the house. I’m a little concerned about how noisy the other tenants will be and I feel uncomfortable or uneasy about not having everything I need in my room, but I like the house and the room I would have and I decide I want to live there. 

Based on the many house dreams I’ve had, I think it’s safe to say that when we’re dreaming about a dwelling, we’re often being shown where we’re “at” or where we’re trying to get to – in our external world and/or in our internal emotional and psychological world.

In my case, the dream is showing me a direction I could take my life. Moving will provide me with the few vital things I know I need, but the new place will mean my introverted nature will have to make some adjustments.

First, I’ll be able to create and share nourishing experiences with others (as symbolized by the communal kitchen).

Second, I’ll be able to live in a place where everyone tries to remember our similarities and respect our mutual human condition. I think this is what the communal bathroom symbolizes for me. As the children’s book reminds us, “Everyone Poops.” We all need to cleanse ourselves because we all get dirty. And each of us has an unpleasant side — attitudes and beliefs we need to get rid of because they create distance between our true selves and other people. Sharing this bathroom experience, if you will, with my fellow tenants tells me I need to be empathetic and respectful of other people as they work through their private business. It also tells me I want the same consideration in return.

Third, even though I’ll be living in a much more connected way, I’ll still be able to have the quiet, reflective, recharge time my introverted nature requires (as symbolized by having my own room).   

When we’re analyzing our house dreams, it is often helpful to ask ourselves: What is the condition of the house? Is its condition affected by outside elements? If so, how? What rooms are being emphasized in the dream? What are our personal associations with those rooms? In other words, what does a bedroom bathroom, kitchen, garage, library, etc. mean to you? 

I could paraphrase the possible symbolic associations we should consider when trying to interpret a house dream, but Jungian analyst M. Ester Harding gives a great rundown in her book, The I And The Not I. Harding’s description is too lengthy for this blog, but here are several key excerpts:  

“A house, for instance, as it appears in dreams, might be taken to represent shelter or containment, and with this meaning can appear in many forms, corresponding to the many attempts man has made to adapt to external conditions. So his shelter may be a den, a cave, a primitive hut, a modern house, or even a palace. In its negative aspect house can represent prison and confinement. Or the house of the dream may represent the dreamer’s psyche. In this case, the living rooms correspond to the conscious part of the psyche, while the cellar and attic contain contents that have fallen into the personal unconscious.  . . .

“The variations on the theme of the house are endless. For instance, instead of being a personal abode, the house may be a collective building, perhaps a theater. This is the place where the typical stories of man’s life are shown, that is, the mythologems (sic) are presented to consciousness.  . . .

“But this does not cover every possible meaning of ‘house.’ For the house may be church or temple, namely, the ‘house of God,’ when, as in the theme of parent and child, the individual is led over to an attitude that transcends the personally oriented one.”

– Writeye 

June 24th, 2009 | Tags: bathroom symbolism, house symbolism, kitchen symbolism | Category: Dreams, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

In alchemical texts, the green lion eating the sunflower conveys the experience of being frustrated because our wild desires (the green lion) are overtaking our conscious attitude (the sun/sunflower). Most of us know this experience as a depression.

Last night I went to see the Broadway hit “Wicked.” As many of you already know, the musical is based on Gregory Maguire’s revisionist take on L. Frank Baum’s classic, ”The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.” So green plays prominently in the production. There are costumes in all shades of green. There are trips to the Emerald City, a place some people have interpreted as standing for American capitalism and the move away from gold to paper money. And of course there’s Elphaba, the “Wicked” witch herself.

Elphaba was born with green skin, an anatomical fact which instantly ostracizes her from her parents and most everyone she meets. After all, we like our plants and our money green, but not our people. Historian Jack Tressider reminds us, “Satan himself is sometimes represented as green. Perhaps this stems from the fact that green is not the skin-colour of healthy normality.”

I haven’t been able to find out why Satan is sometimes pictured in green. So, if you know the origins, please post. More often than not, green has positive symbolic associations — renewal, fertility, hope, and most recently, ecology. Green is even a sacred color in Islam, standing for the Prophet and divine providence. 

But green is also the color of envy and jealousy. Perhaps these associations — given his jealousy of Christ — are the reasons why Satan is portrayed in green. I don’t know.

As for Elphaba, I’ve read some hypotheses that her green skin symbolizes the jealousy she feels toward her wheelchair-bound sister because her sister was her parents’ favorite. I disagree. Elphaba was born with green skin — before she ever had a chance to develop any envy or jealousy toward anyone. She even used her magical powers to cure her sister’s paralysis. 

I’m wondering if Elphaba’s green skin isn’t more of a harbinger of her fate, a sign that no matter what her actual intentions or actions, she was destined to be labeled “wicked,” a sister of the green-skinned devil himself.

Are there any “Wicked” fans out there? What do you think is the symbolic meaning of Elphaba’s green skin?

– Writeye  

June 18th, 2009 | Tags: Elphaba symbolism, green devil symbolism, green symbolism | Category: Art, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

Jung's ideas about the purpose of an afterlife resonate with the thinking of 4th-century philosopher Zhaungzi: life is limited but the amount of things to know is unlimited. This drawing illustrates Zhuangzi's experience of dreaming he was a butterfly. When he woke up, he wondered if he was a butterfly who dreamt he was Zhuangzi or Zhuangzi who dreamt he was a butterfly. Source: Wikipedia.

Andrea and Bruce Leininger are the parents of James Leininger, a little boy who they believe was a WWII pilot in a previous life. The Leiningers have chronicled their family’s experience with the paranormal in two Good Morning America interviews (most recently on Monday) and in the book Soul Survivor: The Reincarnation of a World War II Fighter Pilot.    

According to the Leiningers, just a couple weeks after son James turned two, he began having nightmares about a plane crash. His visions were filled with such specific details about the incident — including the type of aircraft and damage sustained – that the Leiningers began researching the details to see if James’ dream visions could have been someone else’s reality. The Leiningers are convinced their son’s nightmares were the experiences of James M. Huston, Jr., a 21-year-old fighter pilot who was killed when his plane was shot down by the Japanese as he flew over Iwo Jima on March 3, 1945. 

I’m not at all skeptical about the validity of the Leiningers experience, or the conclusion of reincarnation they drew from it. I’m sure many of us who have taken care of very young children have had experiences where those children mention the names of dead people they couldn’t know anything about, or tell us the name or sex of children yet to be born or even conceived.  

One day when I was playing with my nieces, two-year-old Meghan suddenly turned to an open bedroom door, pointed, and yelled “Grandma.” I asked her if she saw grandma and she said yes, even though there wasn’t anyone standing there. When I asked which grandma she saw, she couldn’t tell me. One of them, my mother, has been dead for 30 years. Still, I could tell Meghan really “saw” one of her grandmas in that doorway.

I believe very young children possess a unique ability to peer over to the other side. After all, it was not long ago that they themselves were “not of this world.” Their consciousness hasn’t been narrowed yet by ego concerns and the demands of this earthly life.  Departed souls know small children are a doorway through which they can reconnect with this plane of existence and, in James Huston’s case, take care of unfinished business.

I’ve always thought there might be some sort of life after death, including reincarnation. Between my own experiences and others I’ve heard about, I can’t rule out the possibility of an afterlife just because it hasn’t been scientifically proven.

Two things struck me about the Leininger’s story. First, when James started talking to a therapist who believed in reincarnation, the nightmares became much less frequent. Second, James’ father had an intuitive sense that, “[Huston] came back because he wasn’t finished with something.”

I think we’d be wise to at least entertain the idea that, because Huston died suddenly and violently, his soul could not rest until he came to grips with the trauma of his death. Huston needed some ”talk therapy,” if you will. And through James, he was able to get it.

In his autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections,  Jung provides a  thought-provoking hypothesis as to why the dead communicate with the living. ”People have the idea that the dead know far more than we, for Christian doctrine teaches that in the hereafter we shall ’see face to face.’ Apparently, however, the souls of the dead ‘know’ only what they knew at the moment of death, and nothing beyond that. Hence their endeavor to penetrate into life in order to share in the knowledge of men.  .  .  .  It seems to me as if they were dependent on the living for receiving answers to their questions, that is, on those who have survived them and exist in a world of change . . .”

Jung says the dead are in a space without time and a time without space — eternity — where nothing changes. But we humans exist on a plane ruled by the passing of time and the evolution that comes with it. As such, we develop; we gain knowledge we didn’t have before — knowledge the dead lack since they are at a still point.  

Given this hypothesis, it’s possible that Huston wasn’t reincarnated in James, but called out to James for help because he could not come to grips with his sudden, traumatic end unless he gained greater understanding about that end.

However, Jung didn’t rule out the possibility of reincarnation. “I could well imagine that I might have lived in former centuries and there encountered questions I was not yet able to answer; that I had to be born again because I had not fulfilled the task that was given to me. When I die, my deeds will follow along with me — that is how I imagine it.”

Jung’s hypothesis on life after death, including reincarnation and karma, centered around a need for departed souls to fill in the gaps of the spiritual education they received on earth. It seems to me that Huston’s demands on the Leininger family to help him find answers support this. 

– Writeye

June 10th, 2009 | Tags: life after death jung, reincarnation jung, WW II fighter pilot reincarnated | Category: Books, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

Most of us have different types of clothes to fit the different roles we play. If we're washing clothes in our dreams, we may be trying to clean up one aspect of our persona. If we're buying clothes, it may symbolize that we're trying to use our psychic energy, or force of will, to change one role, or aspect, of our persona.

Iconic fashion designer Edith Head once said, “You can have anything you want in life if you dress for it.” While I don’t think Head’s sentiment is true for most of us, I do think it serves as a reminder that we humans place a lot more value on clothes than simple utilitarian protection from the elements.

Clothes have always said something about who we are and where we fit into society. The most embellished attire and richest fabrics are, even to this day, worn mostly by those with the greatest power and money. Crowns and other ornate headdresses are usually reserved for royalty and tribal chieftains.

It takes us only a second or two to scan someone’s clothing and overall appearance and make a judgement about where that person stands on the socio-economic ladder. Clothes have been a status marker since we donned the first animal hide.

With that kind of collective importance ingrained in us, it’s no wonder clothing appears prominently in our dreams. From a psychological perspective, clothes often stand for our persona — that mask we decide to show the outside world.  When we’re dressing or undressing in our dreams, we’re often changing personas.

To discover exactly what our unconscious is trying to tell us, we need to look at what type of clothes we’re taking on and off. What are our associations with these type of clothes? Who might normally wear them in conscious life? Are these clothes the type our father or mother wore to work? Are they the clothes of a person in history or current culture that we admire? Are they clothes we wore when we were much younger (perhaps pointing to a regressive attitude we need to let go of or a childlike creativity and wonderment we need to embrace)? 

Which persona are we trying to adopt or shed in our dream and why?

If we keep in mind that dreams are, by and large, compensating for some conscious attitude that is out of balance with our true Self, then the dream may be trying to show us we need to shed — or adopt — the persona aspects the clothes represent in order to achieve greater inner harmony.

In her book, Awakening Woman Dreams and Individuation, Jungian analyst Nancy Qualls-Corbett tells us about a dream her analysand “Leila” had in which her mother is instructing her to put on layer after layer of clothing, criticizing Leila every step of the way.: “In the dream there are layers and layers of persona issues which mother has commanded her daughter to wear . . . Some are hidden away, out of sight . . . all is a mess and belongs to Mother, a sick persona where the mask is rigidly stuck.” 

Fortunately for Leila, she grew out of needing to adopt the personas her mother thrust upon her. She soon developed her own style of dream dress that corresponded to her burgeoning individuality in waking life.  

– Writeye

June 3rd, 2009 | Tags: clothes as symbols of persona, clothes buying symbolism, clothes symbolism, clothes washing symbolism, persona definition | Category: Dreams, Jungian Psychology, Symbol Brief |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

In my previous two blogs, I talked about the circle representing the whole of the universe, all that is heavenly and spiritual. I also said the square symbolizes earthbound, physical reality. Given these symbolic backdrops, it makes sense that an image which brings these two geometric shapes together in equal measure (i.e., the squaring of the circle) would be illustrating humankind’s desire to achieve balance and harmony among the opposites of existence. (For an example, see the drawing below, which accompanies last Friday’s blog.)

To help me better understand the psychic purpose behind the image, I’m turning once again to the insight Jung provides in The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious: “The squaring of the circle is one of the many archetypal motifs which form the basic patterns of our dreams and fantasies but it is distinguished by the fact that it is one of the most important of them from the functional point of view. Indeed, it could even be called the archetype of wholeness.”

The circle and the square are geometric and symbolic opposites. So when our psyches bring the two shapes together in such a way that they inhabit an equal area, we are trying to reconcile all that is seemingly at odds within us — spiritual and material, light and dark, male and female, inferior and superior functions, etc.

Jung tells us these mandalas occur when nature is trying to heal a divide. “The fact that images of this kind have under certain circumstances a considerable therapeutic effect on their authors is empirically proved and also readily understandable, in that they often represent very bold attempts to see and put together apparently irreconcilable opposites and bridge over apparently hopeless splits. Even the mere attempt in this direction usually has a healing effect, but only when it is done spontaneously.  Nothing can be expected from an artificial repetition or a deliberate imitation of such images.” (Excerpted from The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious.)  

I think the last part of Jung’s statement is particularly important. I take it to mean that we can’t use force of will to sit down and consciously think through and draw out what we’d like our “Self”-reflective mandalas to look like. Nature, as she always does, will provide the images to us when she feels we are in need and ready to receive them — either through active imagination in our waking hours or in our dreams during sleep. 

– Writeye

May 28th, 2009 | Tags: healing psychic opposites, mandala symbolism, squaring of the circle meaning | Category: Dreams, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment