Dreams
I’ve been reminded recently what a useful spiritual tool dreams are. If the unconscious is a direct link to God , then Carl Jung is my guide.
In rereading his MODERN MAN IN SEARCH OF A SOUL, I came across this gem on dreams: “The dream gives a true picture of the subjective state, while the conscious mind denies that this state exists, or recognizes it only grudgingly.” He goes on to explain how the unconscious really serves to right the ship for us, that the conscious mind is at a hopeless disadvantage in being able to run our lives. The conscious mind is full of shoulds and ideas about the way things are supposed to look. The unconscious lays out the way it really is.
So I was paying attention to my dreams, especially since I was wrestling with this old acquaintance who had come back in my life. She seemed to be dismissive of my experience and came from a bully pulpit in her discourse. I felt she was toxic, but I had made a new years resolution this year to be more inclusive. I would try to accept whatever anybody’s other point of view was and where I could, would help them down the path. (There’s the conscious with it’s plans . . . ) The question was, should I cut them out of my life? After all that seems pretty drastic, and doesn’t that just highlight my weakness?
The dream came on Sunday night. I was an invisible spectator in a room full of mobsters. We were in a dark room and the head gangster had his tommy gun at his side. He was sitting near a window with a few of his mobster buddies. The window was open because it was hot. Across the alley was this other gangster from another family who was taunting him, going on and on about how badly he ran his business and how he was never going to get anywhere. Suddenly my guy pulls up his tommy gun and just rapid fire drills the taunter with bullets, but only in his arms and legs. The taunting mobster slithers out the front door and keeps up the tirade, yelling obscenities and won’t shut up. Finally my guy pulls out his rifle and with one shot nails the taunter right in the neck to silence him. The taunter falls to his knees, gurgling and eventually falls over, dead.
I woke up horrified and couldn’t get back to sleep. I pretty much understood the symbolism of the dream telling me to cut ties with the toxic acquaintance, but why the gangster image? I would have to wait for the waking hours to revisit that question.
Jung says, “It is always helpful, when we set out to interpret a dream, to ask: What conscious attitude does it compensate?” The idea being, our unconscious is trying to compensate for a weakness in the conscious. So I thought about my history, and the trap I tend to get into of being too nice, thinking I need to protect everyone. The gangster was cold as ice, absolutely no feeling, just took this guy out. Maybe that’s what I need to incorporate? But I wrestled with that. Are you sure? Is part of living a spiritual life being that cold and cut and dry?
I’m not going to argue with unconscious on this one. Certainly I don’t have to use guns and bullets, but I can use the mobsters matter of fact coldness in separating from things that have no place in my life. So apparently the shadow side of me looks like a gangster . . . interesting.
*
**
***
(Just for sport I’m throwing up an old song I recorded 13 years ago when I was early in my addiction recovery. It’s called “Dr. Jung” and it’s about all the violent dreams I had telling me to take care of myself and stop avoiding my pain. My previous policy used to be F E A R, f%*K everything and run. Click on 04 Dr. Jung and a player will magically appear.)
