Friday, 25 August 2017

A Dream About A Scratching Rabbit: Post #3



 photo courtesy of bluecross.org.uk

A dreamer dreamed about being scratched by a rabbit. As we worked on the symbols and uncovered the metaphoric associations they had for her, a theme presented itself. There seemed to be a conflict between the dreamer’s enjoyment of being relaxed, and her near-obsession with needing to be busy.

In the paragraphs below, we have reassembled the dream using the metaphoric descriptions that the dreamer provided. The only significant changes to her words are where I have added phrases such as, “There is a part of me” to remind the dreamer that all the dream symbols represent facets of herself.

The reassembled dream
I am in the time within myself when things are awake in me and there is more activity. I am still clothed the way I would be during sleep, but sometimes, when I’m lazy, I keep this clothing on when I’m awake, too. This part of me that I clothe myself in is soft and appealing. It makes me want to nestle right into the material and forget the world. It leaves me with no particular association with anything special. This part of me is just pleasant and non-descript. I notice it particularly around the part of me that I use to stand on and move myself around. I notice it on my source of strength. In general, I’m not quite up and running, yet. I’m still unprepared to meet my awake-ness and my increased activity. I’m residing in the part in me that is a place to relax and enjoy the outdoor world without really involving myself in it. The weather in me can sometimes force me to pay attention to it—either too hot or too cold—and I have to deal with it. But here, I can simply let it wash over me and put myself into a state of relaxation and quiet pleasure. I’m blissful. I can drift in whatever way I want.

But then I notice another part of myself. This part of me always reminds me of the March Hare in Alice and Wonderland: It likes to be busy to the point of obsession. This part of me is totally absorbed in its own little insignificant world. But it thinks it’s of paramount importance. I notice that this industrious part of me is an in between color. It doesn’t make a point. It sort of blends into the background. But it’s also hard to miss. This part of me is unintimidated by me. It’s full of confidence. And it has an itch that it is trying to relieve. It is involved in intense movement. This part of me uses its strongest appendage, which has great power. It is its most important defensive alert system. It uses this system to become aware of danger. I ignore it. But my reverie is intruded upon. I feel as if I am being attacked. Certainly it’s an invasion. This part of me has no business being aggressive in this way. It is destroying my covering—how I clothe myself. It has injured me. I’m starting to lose my life force. It’s not dangerous yet, but it’s an assault, an invasion.

Tomorrow we’ll ask her about her dream.

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