Everything young grows old, all beauty fades, all heat cools, all brightness dims, and every truth becomes stale and trite. For all these things have taken on shape, and all shapes are worn thin by the working of time; they age, sicken, crumble to dust—unless they change.
But change they can, for the invisible spark that generated them is potent enough for infinite generation. No one should deny the danger of the descent, but it can be risked. No one need risk it, but it is certain that someone will. And let those who go down the sunset way do so with open eyes, for it is a sacrifice which daunts even the gods.
Yet every descent is followed by an ascent; the vanishing shapes are shaped anew, and a truth is valid in the end only if it suffers change and bears new witness in new images, in new tongues, like a new wine that is put into new bottles. ~Carl Jung, CW 5, Para 553
Years of dreamwork have taught me that whenever my inner life and outer circumstances shift, the changes elicit discomfort, self-doubt, and worry, and Dream Mother always sends help. My current phase is related to my health and aging. Here’s Dream Mother’s latest rescue mission:
H (a man who keeps our North Carolina property in shape) is at our house with some friends and family. They’re having a celebratory party. I wonder what the occasion is. I bring out a bowl of hummus for them to snack on.
There are two large and colorful oriental rugs on the floor, the bottom one bigger than the top one, with several smaller ones piled on top. I realize they will make it hard for people to walk or dance around. As soon as I notice this, H somehow knows I want them gone and begins to remove all but the bottom two.
In an adjoining room I see a beautiful blonde lady, tall, slender, and elegant in a white sheath dress, standing alone in a doorway, looking around with a warm smile. I know her and am so happy to see her here, although I feel reluctant to rush over and greet her. She seems almost unapproachable in her serene solitude, and I don’t want to embarrass myself or her by intruding. I hear the others calling out to let each other know she’s here. Everyone is excited and happy about something.
I’m consulting with a woman doctor who will cure a child I love. I’m afraid she may be terminally ill. The doctor is beautiful in a simple black dress, with dark hair pulled back into a bun, and a quietly confident manner. I’m impressed by her, in awe of her, as she calmly assures me the operation will be successful. I want to believe her but I’m afraid. What if it isn’t?
I see three figures, one in front of the other. The doctor’s in the back. In front of her there’s a vague outline of another woman…me? In front of her I sense a smaller feminine presence…the little girl?
With a flash of lucidity I realize that this has happened before and the outcome was positive. Is this a replay of a memory or an old dream? Whatever it is, I think I can trust the doctor.
We’re in a hospital waiting room. I wonder when the Dr. will leave and begin the surgery. I look out a window and see Izzy — the patient — enclosed in a small balcony attached to the side of this building. She’s been left alone out in the sun to wait until they come for her. I hope it’s not too hot out there. I hope the railing is high enough that she won’t fall off. Surely they wouldn’t put her out there if it wasn’t safe?
I associate Izzy (my son’s golden retriever who lives with us in the summer) with my instinct for nurturance. I love her and want to protect her. Has she had enough to eat? Does she need to go out? Is she getting enough exercise? Is she in pain? Does she miss her family? Have I given her enough love? She’s the patient, and there’s a mothering doctor part of me who knows how to help her and assures my dream ego that she’ll be alright.
Is my flash of awareness that this has happened before a reference to Bear (Izzy’s predecessor) with whom I spent the last summers of his life and for whom I felt the same love and concern? I don’t think the doctor’s assurance is just about Izzy. It’s also about me trusting my own instinct for nurturance, symbolized by the doctor and Izzy, and the soul-healing power of the Mother’s love to bring about a successful physical, psychological, and spiritual outcome in my own life, whatever the future may bring.
How interesting that dream #5365 features a mysterious blonde lady in a white (albedo) dress who I admire from afar, and dream #5366 a dark-haired lady doctor in a black (nigredo) dress who I trust. I see these opposites as images of Great Mother/Sophia, two aspects of feminine spirit in matter. Perhaps the light Mother governs the healing of my soul, and the more approachable dark earthy Mother, the healing of all physical life.
It comforts me to think so. Thank you, Dream Mother, for these new images, these new tongues, this new wine.
Image credits: Pinterest
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You are blessed by wonderful dreams. I don’t make enough effort to regularly recall my dreams, but their gist seeps into consciousness and makes me trust their healing function.
When it comes to bouts of anxiety, I understand them as calls from the unconscious for action.
Recently I had to remind my fiercely independent grown up once again that it’s fine to ask the angels of the universe watching over us for support. There are innumerable things I can’t do, don’t know, can’t afford. After the major achievement of keeping my car on the road, a huge relief, another challenge knocked, about certain dysfunctions on my old laptop.
Without explicitly asking, a friend offered to solve the problems with my laptop’s software. My dependency on a functioning computer scares me. I’m in awe of this friend, who is at ease with the workings of software in the belly of computers.
It took me a long time to learn that allowing support is a creative act.
I don’t make near the effort to recall my dreams as I did in the early years, but there are times when I feel a strong need for their assistance/guidance. When I make the effort at those times I’m always rewarded with a new image or insight. The rest of the time, like you, I trust my dreams are doing their work perfectly well whether I notice or not.
Anxiety as a call from the unconscious for action…I like that. A very apt way of looking at anxiety. For me, giving anxiety my fullest attention and reflecting on it is a form of action that often, but not always, and not necessarily immediately, results in physical action as well…if not consciously and deliberately, then instinctively. The body and outward circumstances have a way of getting our attention if our ego isn’t listening.
Asking for support has always been difficult for this fiercely independent grown up too. How the angels of the universe must respect and love you to send you an computer-savvy friend to heal your laptop without you having to ask. Computer techs are the communications angels of our time, especially for those of us who grew up in an era when everyone had access to a mailman and a telephone without having to ask for help.
“Allowing support is a creative act.” And a courageous one too. Thank you for writing. Jeanie
Yes, those are beautiful and re-assuring dreams Jeanie and I see you as the 2 beautiful ladies one in white and the other in black. As well as the doctor being you, looking after this young girl – also you … and the man who helps to remove the carpets (save for the last *two*) also as a helpful animus figure who doesn’t want anyone including you to trip .. in all the nurturing loving part of you shines through – and as courseofmirrors says, allowing it …
So rich thank you Jeanie – and yes to the Dream Mother – I remember your saying many years ago about asking the Dream Mother for a dream which I often do ,,,
Thank you, Susan.
I was very taken with the white lady and the black lady doctor. It comforts me to think of them as nurturing, supportive parts of me. It has helped very much to see everything in my dreams as part of me — negative as well as positive. I feel a decided sense of lightening up after the dreams of the last couple of weeks. Whatever this recent phase of weariness has been about this summer, it seems to be passing. It occurs to me now that it has been nine months since my book was birthed. Maybe it takes as long to get over a mild post-partum depression as it does to gestate a new life?
I hope the Dream Mother has been as accommodating to you when you ask for her help as she is being to me right now. No one knows us better than she, which makes her messages so meaningful.
My computer keyboard is dying. I ordered another one a while ago but it will not be here until Friday evening. Meanwhile I constantly have to stop; and correct several words in every sentence. Here is an example: I cannot type the number seven, the letter p; is always followed by a semi-colon, as you can see, every colon is p;receded by a cap;ital P:, (see?), and when I try to use an ap;ostrop;he, this is what hap;p;ens æ. WIERD HUH? (THE CAP;ITAL LETTER LOCK ALSO COMES ON AND WONÆt go off until I use an ap;ostrop;he again or turn it off manually. See what I mean? I wonæT BE DOING MUCH TYP;ING IN THE NEXT FEW DAYS! One can only laugh. OH, AND I CANÆt use the first letter of my name. HereæS HOW IT AP;P;EARS, LOVE, ÔEANIE
The birth of your latest book 9 months ago? Yes, it is 9 months ago … well, that’s amazing 🙂
Re the keyboard – no doubt you’ve switched off, unplugged etc etc …
It’s an Apple “Air”, i. e, wireless keyboard with two batteries that have to be replaced every 6 months or so. Replacing them didn’t help this time. I think all the carrying it and my computer back and forth to and from town when I do my Zoom presentations (because town has reliable internet service and we don’t) has jostled some wires loose! Anyway, it must be 10 years old by now so I think it!s time for a new one! It should arrive tomorrow evening with my brother-in-law who’s coming for a visit!!
Wonderful dreams under the excellent viewer. Very professional and brilliant. Thank you, Jeane.
Thank you Aladin. As you see from the above response to Susan, IæM HAVING A HUGE P;ROBLEM WITH MY COMP;UTER KEYBOARD SO WILL STOP; HERE. MEANWHILE, THE ONLY WAY I CAN SIGN MY NAME IS TO COPY AND P;ASTE IT FROM SUSANÆs comment. So here goes, Love, Jeanie 🙂
Oh, sorry for that. I hope thatarYou are in a good health. this is important 🥰❤
Thank you. Aladin. Actually, I’m in excellent health. Just hope it stays that way for a long time! I wish the same for you!
Amen my lovely teacher, happy to know that 😊 wish you a wonderful weekend 🌺 🙏 ❤
Such beautiful and reassuring dreams, Jeanie. I love the black, the white, and the in between earthy color of Izzy. I love your concern for her and decision to trust the doctor–and I’m sorry you’re struggling with your computer.
My dream maker has been quieter than usual. Short dreams about once a week, but they’ve been illuminating about the animus represented by my brother and my need to let ambition go completely and simply love the beauty surrounding me. My butterfly world is taking the role of Psyche now. I care for them every morning and released 6 new butterflies today. There are many more in the queue (I estimate about 150 will fly from my nursery by the end of September), but our summer together only lasts until migration time, usually early October. For now I’m writing about my waking butterfly dream world and gathering milkweed to feed them. May your August days in the mountains be filled with beautiful weather and peace. It seems like a perfect place to be in a tumultuous world. Sending love and rich dreams full circle.
Thank you for your thoughts about my dream, Elaine. Izzy does round out the colors with a beautiful, earthy golden hue!! I never thought of that!
I love hearing about your magnificent “Save the Monarchs” project! What a beautiful gift you’re giving to our planet!! Bless you, my sister!!!❤️