Symbol Watcher

Just like I do every holiday season, a couple days ago I put a fresh evergreen and pine-cone wreath on my door.  It’s a tradition for me, but I realized it’s a tradition I don’t know anything about. 

I’ve read that wreaths were our first crowns and were set upon the heads of those we wished to glorify or esteem. This makes sense when we remember the symbolism of perfection and wholeness associated with the circle.  (Maybe that’s why the square holiday wreaths I’ve seen in stores the last several years don’t hit me quite right. They don’t tie in to the wreath’s origins.)

As far back as ancient Greece, wreaths made of certain materials were associated with certain gods: Apollo – laurel, Zeus — olive, Demeter — ears of grain, Poseidon — pine needles and cones. 

In Christianity, wreaths stand for a defeat of darkness and sin. Roman emperors attempted to mock Christ by making him wear a crown of thorns rather than their traditional rose wreaths. Of course the thorny crown became the headdress of martyrs.  The advent wreath sits on a flat surface and has at least four candles in it, each representing one of the four weeks of Advent, or the weeks leading up to Christmas.  Some have a fifth candle to symbolize Christ. 

So what about people like me, who hang a wreath on their front door each year?  Well, I haven’t been able to find much information on the subject, but according to  Arcamax.com, the tradition dates back to ancient Rome.  In honor of their New Year, ” . . . Romans wished each other “good health” by exchanging branches of evergreens. They called these gifts strenae after Strenia, the goddess of health. It became the custom to bend these branches into a ring and display them on doorways.”

– Writeye

December 7th, 2008 | Tags: wreath symbolism | Category: Symbol Brief |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

A couple nights ago I had this dream:

My husband in “conscious life” and I are traveling down a two-lane highway. He is driving and I am in the passenger seat beside him.  The road ahead is smooth and flat.  The surrounding landscape is covered with short, clumpy grass and dirt, like you’d find out West.  The sky is cloudy and gray, but I look up to the left and see that the clouds have broken enough to create a rainbow.  At first the sight of the rainbow makes me happy, but I begin to be suspicious of it or doubt it for some reason.  

Then I look to my right and see a UFO up in the sky.  It is round and spinning and hovering over my side of the car.  I realize my husband does not see it.  I am the only one.  A bright white beam of light comes down from the center of the UFO and shines on the right side of my face and neck.  I am terrified.  I am afraid they have come to take me up into the spaceship or that they are going to implant a chip in my neck so they can track me and control me.  They don’t do either. Still, I know they have chosen me for some reason.  I am now one of their test subjects and they are going to continue to follow me, study me and observe me.

This dream has really affected me and I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last two days.  The seemingly incongruent symbolism of the reassuring rainbow and the frightening UFO has intrigued and touched me.  I feel the dream is trying to tell me something very important about my development. 

First, the rainbow is on my left (the side of the unadapted, unconscious reactions).  My personal associations of a rainbow is that it is particularly beautiful, a unique and rare mix of rain and sun.  It appears after a rainy or stormy period and marks the first appearance of clarity bringing sunlight.  

As I’ve researched other symbolism for a rainbow, I’ve come across the story of Noah and the rainbow.  It’s a story I probably heard as a child, but it didn’t come to my mind.  When the flood waters receded and Noah landed on Mount Ararat, a rainbow appeared in the sky as God promised Noah he would never again destroy the earth with a great flood.

Both my personal associations and the story of God’s promise to Noah ring true to me when I think of what the symbolism of the rainbow means in my own psychological development.  Like a flood, I have been overwhelmed by my own unconscious contents during the last several years.  I’ve felt brought to my knees at times by my own intuitions, instincts and neuroses and by those of my family, friends and other people around me.  I think the dream is trying to show me that this period is ending.  The rain clouds are clearing.  Maybe I could even go so far as to say that without the experience of the flood, the beauty of the rainbow would not be possible.  But I’m still skeptical.  The overwhelming experience of being swept away by my and others’ unadapted and unconscious emotions has been so painful for me that I’m doubtful the sun is actually coming out.

So if the rainbow is telling me that my experience of being overwhelmed by unconscious contents is coming to an end, then what is the UFO saying?  This has been more difficult for me to figure out.  I don’t really have many thoughts about UFOs.  I’m certainly not so egotistical as to think we humans are the only beings in the universe, so I’ve always accepted the possibility that there are other life forms in the universe.  I feel unsettled by the thought of UFOs landing here because I imagine them to be somehow more powerful than or of superior intelligence to us (since they have the ability to get to us but we haven’t been able to find them).  To me, this means they have power over us (which is why I was so frightened in the dream).

Interestingly, when I researched how a Jungian might interpret this symbol in dreams, I discovered that Jung had actually written about UFOs.  In The Science of Dreams: An Analysis of What You Dream and Why, Edwin Diamond says Jung believed UFOs in dreams “. . . should be treated as psychological projections – visions of wholeness [due to their archetypal round shape and their position in the sky, e.g., coming from spirit] in response to a lack of wholeness . . . ‘What can I do to save myself?’ Jung’s patients asked him.  The UFOs in dreams and myths bring the answer. ‘Become what you have always been, namely, the wholeness we have lost in the midst of our civilized, conscious existence . . . ‘. “  

As I said earlier, I’ve felt overcome and overwhelmed during much of the last few years.  I haven’t been able to get my footing or my place, back in the world.  At times, I’ve felt life was kicking me so hard I couldn’t get up. The flood wiped out the old me, my old world. 

Maybe going through the upheaval is what has allowed the prospect of wholeness (the UFO) to come into my consciousness as a possibility.  It is above me, shining its light of superior knowing and identifying down on me.  Like wholeness, the UFO has found me, but I’m afraid because I don’t know what it’s going to do to me or require of me.  So why should I be afraid of it? It isn’t taking me from my journey on earth.  It isn’t trying to control me with an implanted homing device.  Wholeness is just letting me know it’s out there and it’s keeping an eye on me. 

– Writeye

November 30th, 2008 | Tags: rainbow symbolism, UFO symbolism, wholeness symbolism | Category: Dreams, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Comments (3)

Daniel Craig as 007

On Saturday night, I saw the new James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace.  As I watched Bond grapple with his grief at loosing his lover Valenka (she died in Casino Royale), I was impressed by how the movie’s creators chose landscapes that mirrored Bond’s emotional state.

As Jungian analyst Marie Louis Von-Franz states in Man and His Symbols, “Landscapes in dreams (as well as in art) frequently symbolize an inexpressible mood.”  For instance, a steamy, tropical terrain may indicate feelings of heightened sexuality and passion.  A meadow blooming with spring flowers and vernal foliage may speak of rebirth and rejuvenation.  A late November scene of falling leaves may convey a pessimistic attitude, the end of a period of growth, or feeling unable to create something new.

It seems appropriate that so much of “Quantum” takes place in the arid heat of the South American desert.  It’s the perfect symbol for the ”inexpressible mood” Bond possesses through most of the movie.  He tries to hide his pain and anger both at feeling betrayed by Valenka and at loosing her. He can’t sleep.  He keeps her photo in his pocket.  A whisper of sadness shows in his eyes whenever her name is mentioned.  But Bond’s actions confess the rage that burns inside him.  Like the desert he travels through, Bond is consumed by a dry heat that relentlessly saps life.  Bond cannot create, only destroy.  His anger causes him to act carelessly.  He kills superfluously and leads others close to him into danger and death. 

I thought it was interesting that one of the few times Bond is around a substantial amount of water is when he is talking to Camille about loosing Valenka.  In turn, Camille shares the pain she felt at watching her family’s murder and her hopes to avenge their deaths. It’s when he’s with Camille that Bond finds a river running through a cavern.  Bond’s relatedness and connection to the moist, dark feminine (Camille) is expressed in the river that flows in the background.   

When Bond finally catches the man responsible for Valenka’s death, he has moved out of the desert and into the snowy cold of Russia.  The winter scape comments on an important change in Bond’s emotional state. As Bond is leaving, he throws Valenka’s necklace into the snow, illustrating his decision to close off his feeling side.  A coldness, even a detachment, is settling in Bond’s heart. 

Many of you know that Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace are the first chapters in the Bond story and so the movie’s closing scene seems to me to foreshadow the emotionally distant, playboy Bond so characteristic in later stories.

– Writeye

November 17th, 2008 | Tags: landscape symbolism, Quantum of Solace movie | Category: Jungian Psychology, Movies |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Comments (2)

Late last night, we Americans elected our next president.  But in some ways, Barack Obama is our first president because he has the greatest potential to be a true president of all the people.  His bi-racial heritage makes him a living, breathing example of the melting pot demographic we have always — at least theoretically – held dear.  Obama’s upbringing and adult experiences have given him the gift of being able to move comfortably within multiple American subcultures.

As I watched Charlie Gibson announce that Obama will be our 44th president, I was struck by the number.  Four has great symbolic significance and I started wondering what it might mean.  Four is the number of stability and the physical world — the four seasons, four directions, four elements, four mental functions, etc.   When we build upon this aspect of its meaning, we also see why, from a Jungian perspective, four represents wholeness, the uniting of different sides or aspects contained within one.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that four is represented not once, but twice, in the ordinancy of Obama’s presidency.  On a fundamental level, his election certainly represents our nation’s attempt to come together and close the racial divide that has separated us for far too long.  After all, people from many different ethnic groups voted for Obama.

 In numerology, it is common to add numbers to “reduce” them to their essential significance.  (This is done most commonly with the numerals in someone’s birthdate.)  When we add the numbers of Obama’spresidency, we come up with eight.  As I wrote in a posting a few months ago, the eight represents beginning, renewal and rebirth since it follows seven, the number standing for cyclical completion.

Given the symbology of 4 and 8, I can’t help but see how fitting it is that our 44th president is someone we have entrusted to move us closer to national unity and a renewal of positive energy both here and abroad.

– Writeye

November 5th, 2008 | Tags: number 4 symbolism, number 7 symbolism, number 8 symbolism, President-Elect Obama symbolism, symbolism of 44th president | Category: Current Events, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

Earlier this week, I had the following dream:

I am outside, looking down at a woman who is kneeling on the ground.  A young man, a murderer, takes a chain saw and chops off her head.  I see the bloody stump and can’t believe he actually did it. Two women are now with me and I know the murderer is after me, to kill me. 

I am now in that same area outside, but I’m sitting down with my left leg up in the air.  The man puts an old metal box up to my left leg, just below my knee.  I understand the box is still the chainsaw. Somehow, I fight him off and start running before he has a chance to cut off my leg.

Now I and the two women are running through the neighborhood, trying to get away from the murder. It is the type of lower middle class neighborhood I grew up in, with small white houses built close together and yards separated by chain link fences.  

I see the murderer clearly now.  He is young and blond — a “grunge” type. He’s wearing a beige-colored knit beret and plaid shirt.  Two other young men are with him now.  Suddenly, a couple big black Labrador dogs in the neighborhood start barking and jumping up to block the men from getting to us. I am hopeful for a moment because I think the dogs will create a diversion long enough for us to get away.

But then the dogs see us running and they get distracted watching us.  They stop barking at the men. I tell the dogs, “No, stop looking at us and keep barking at the men so we can get away.” But it’s too late.  I know the men are after us again.  I wonder if I can get the three of us away from them.  I think I might be able to.

I see a clunky old rusty blue car that is like the cars from my childhood in the late ’60s. I would need to run back in the direction of the men to get to the car.  I know the car runs, but it isn’t very reliable. For some reason though, taking the car isn’t what I decide to do. I decide to make a run for it, on foot, away from the murderer and the other two men.  I’m not sure we’re going to get away from them.

The symbol of the car is especially intriguing to me since the dream offers it as a possible solution or way out of my predicament — but it’s one I choose not to take.

When I look at the symbolism of a car from a Jungian interpretive standpoint, I know that my dream car, like a real car, is all about getting me from one place to the next — either in my psychological life, my outter life, or both.  The car could represent the libido, or psychic energy, I need to move from one level of development to the next (away from my distructive animus, represented by the murderering young man).   The car could also represent the method I could use to move my outter life in a different direction.

I know one thing immediately: whatever it is that gets me moving away from murderous Mr. Grunge, it is going to be my choice.  It’ll be either a car that I am in control of and navigate, or it’ll be my own two feet.  The decision is completely mine.  I won’t be able to count on any outside assistance (as would be symbolized by a bus, or taxi where I might share a ride while someone else does the driving, for instance).  

The kind of car in my dream helps explain to me why I chose against it.  It is old and unreliable, past it’s prime.  And, because I associate it with the time of my childhood, it represents a way of getting around in the world that I learned in my childhood, from my parents and my working class upbringing.  I know that lesson from my childhood well: I should just take a job for the steady paycheck and the benefits and be thankful for it.  Having a regular job is enough in life and all anyone should really be concerned with.

But it is an unsatisfying, lazy way to live, and I know it.  

The symbolism comments so beautifully on the struggle I’ve been having for the past several years — how can I stop working dead end, boring clerical jobs and make a fulfilling life and living writing about things I believe are important, like symbolism as it relates to our psychological development. 

How do I get there? 

Interestingly, in the dream, I would have to turn around and run back to get to the car. I think this means the choice of the car would be a regression to outdated values from my childhood. Also, I would be running toward Mr. Grunge.  And while he represents my attempt to move away from my collective working class values, he also represents my lack of firm commitment, my aimlessness and laziness when it comes to REALLY doing what I know needs to be done to move my life in a different direction. (My apologies to any current or former Grungers reading this, but my associations are what they are.)  

In the dream, I don’t know exactly why I make the choice to go on foot.  Afterall, going on foot means I don’t even have the aid of a motorized vehicle.  A car, even an unreliable one, would at least give me some assistance other than my own two feet and may even put some distance between me and my murderer before it breaks down. But my dream wisdom tells me I need to make the harder, riskier choice of going on foot.  I am going to have to use my own willpower.  What if I’m not fast enough?  What if Mr. Grunge catches up with me and saws off my head or my legs? Still, there only seems to be one right way for me.  I don’t want to run in the direction of own destructive animus and I know I can’t go back to the car, to my old working class way of getting around.

– Writeye

November 1st, 2008 | Tags: car symbolism in dreams | Category: Dreams, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Comments (1)