One last call
The post on “A Ring and a Prayer” reminds me of a dream I had once.
In the dream, someone told me that my sister was dead. I just couldn’t believe this news.
“She can’t be dead, I just saw her the other day.” [This isn't logical. It's a dream.]
“It’s true. I can prove it to you.”
Just as I was wondering how he could do this, the phone rang. I picked it up and it was my sister.
“Someone just told me you’re dead.”
“I am!”
“But how can you be calling me on the phone.”
“Well, when you’re dead you’re allowed to make one phone call — but most people don’t bother.”
Okay, please feel free to analyze me!
6 Responses to “One last call”
About this entry
You’re currently reading “One last call,” an entry on Bodhipaksa's blog, bodhi tree swaying
Published: Nov 25 2008
My approach to dream work is to explore the meaning of it to the patient, and it’s usually couched in the meaning created in the work together. Gone are the days when there was some predetermined Freudian output about repressed sexuality, forbidden wishes and whatnot.
In a therapy session I would explore the relationship with your sister, your thoughts about death and phone calls. We would co-create the meaning it has for you, and place that within the context of our work together.
Bromberg talks about not just bringing the dream, but also the dreamer into a session.
Not really an analysis. I think even Freud would want to know a little bit more about you before making an interpretation.
I confess I wasn’t entirely serious
It was a rather good play on some old vaudeville skits. But, with your permission, as given, to analyze, I’d like to do so in order to exercise an old skill from metaphysical studies. Of course, without being able to ask you certain details, it will be a bit thin, but then you weren’t entirely serious anyway.
First principle to apply: all people in a dream of the same sex as the dreamer represent concious aspects of themselves and all those of the opposite sex represent subconcious aspects (regardless of sexual preferences in physical life). For the aspect they represent you would think of the first one to three words that come to mind to describe them.
Second principle to apply: death signifies significant change (and sometimes a dual purpose communication inclusive of prediction for those who have “the sight” as my father and sister had before rejecting it’s weighty feeling of responsibility).
Symbol of the phone: simple, tool for communication with the other aspect of one’s self.
So, by the reference of the one with the “deadly” message as “someone” they would seem to be a stranger. If it were a real dream he would represent a concious aspect of you which you are not fully aware of (some characteristics that you may not even realize you have especially as pertaining to outer awareness of change of inner aspects of yourself).
Then, when you stop to ponder how you/he could know about this change, the confirmation is communicated using a tool that can communicate with that inner aspect(perhaps meditation?).
Of course the inner/subconcious aspect apparently has a sense of humor, timing and a bit of play on the one phone call as from prison…oooh, the afterlife in anyway equating to prison is probably NOT on a list of positive beliefs.
If we were being serious I’d say that the fact that the subconcious/inner aspect had changed, but “bothered” to call would be a positive in that it would show that change does not mean a total loss of connection and communication just as when we move through levels of mind and spirituality, we carry with us the lessons of the previous.
Not a wholly serious analysis. I hope you enjoyed it though and thank you for allowing me this small exercise.
re: your dream -
have you seen the movie ‘Wandâfuru raifu’? (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0165078/)? highly recommeded. it was released under various titles outside japan: ‘wonderful life’, ‘after life’ and ‘afterlife’.
i’ve just noticed for the first time that ‘Wandâfuru raifu’ is, phonetically, a japanese-accented version of ‘wonderful life’.
Sadara: You just realized “Wandâfuru raifu” is a transliteration of “Wonderful Life”? Sure you’re not coming down with Arzahaima Deisizu?
But seriously, no I haven’t seen the movie, although I’ll try to check it out. We rarely see movies these days because Shrijnana’s generally too tired in the evenings to watch anything over 50 minutes long, so we just sit sit with our glasses of warm milk and a blanket over our knees, talking about the good old days.
Hi Cindy,
I like your analysis. I would make similar symbolic associations to those you make. I’ve never considered that a dream character who is male would represent a conscious element of myself, but that’s the only thing that doesn’t ring true. One of the first words that I’d use to describe my sister is “distant.” We don’t have a close relationship, to the extent that I’m absolutely sure she doesn’t have my address or phone number and to the extent that the last time I saw her she didn’t actually say a word to me. So the fact that she would phone at all is completely unlike her. If she represented some element of myself that I was estranged from (“estranged” would be another good word for her) then in the very act of phoning me she/it would symbolically be dying; at least the estrangement would be over.
So I’d suggest that this dream was about the “death” of a separation between me and some part of myself — or put more positively it was an integration dream. The (male) “someone” who knew about this integration and was informing me about it was a kind of “insight” — the character represented the process dawning self-knowledge.
At least that’s my take.
Sometimes I dream in cartoons, in neon outlines, and in abstract patterns similar to mandalas. The abstract patterns in particular would be hard to analyze, I guess.