Dreams 101: All the World is a Stage
Robin B. Zeiger, Ph.D.
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts…,
Spoken by Jacques in Act II, Scene VII, William Shakespeare, As You Like It.
The image of these famous words transports me to the dream theatre of the night. Each evening as we sleep, we are all blessed with several dream cycles. In those occasional moments when we merit to remember our dreams, the scenes are often poetic and pregnant with meanings.
I am a Jungian and a dream therapist. I am fascinated by the depth and breadth of dreams. But I am also equally fascinated by the theatre of everyday life. Our dream psyche creates and presents us an ever-changing selection of scenes and stories.
This middle of the night theatre of our dreams is often seemingly chaotic and creative at the same time. Here we seem to meet the improv of the soul.
To collect the treasures of the theatre, we must sanctify time for the productions. We must open our heart and allow ourselves to meet the emotions. When we allow for a freedom to intuit and to reach beyond the simple scene, we often receive the treasured messages and musings of our soul. In sanctifying time and space to record and reflect upon our dreams, our lives are forever enriched.
One of my favorite dream theorists, Robert Bosnak, wrote a very simple book about dreams. He described his way of carefully attends to dreams with all of his senses. It doesn’t matter whether the dream is his own or that of someone else. He attempts to reach deep inside to touch, feel, smell, “emote” and associate to the dream.
I grew up with the TV show, My Favorite Martian (1963–1966). If I were asked to provide a short description of human dreams to Tim’s “Uncle Martin”, a 450-year old anthropologist from Mars, I would use the experience and analogy of the theatre.
Sometimes in our night-sea journeys, we seem to arrive at the theatre a bit late and are therefore become confused. Sometimes, as the curtain raises, we are thrust into the midst of a puzzling murder and from the first moment, we are frightened and riveted at the same time. Like a good Shakespearian play, we may be moved to shed tears as we become involved in tragic loss of the hero or heroine. There are also those bone-chilling stories that are so horrific that we cannot feel. There are those moments when something wonderful happens, and we vicariously bask in the gratitude. Perhaps most maddeningly, sometimes our dream psyche ends the play an act too early, and we wake up wanting desperately to find out how the play ended. at times, wondrously, we can close our eyes and rejoin the unfinished narrative.
The analogy of the play is important for another reason. Our dream world can also be compared to a “one person” play. Our soul needs to tell our story in the context of the world. Thus, we are thrust into the position of taking on all roles.
The dream is truly our creation, if albeit hidden within the mystery of the unconscious. We become the writers, directors, narrators, actors, audience, and all too often the tough critic of the play. It is in this last role that I find myself offering cautioning dreamers. Sometimes it is way too easy to become the too-tough critic.
We beat ourselves up for pieces we don’t like, or we dismiss the play altogether, taking it off stage. In contrast, I encourage people to offer honor to their dream creations; becoming curious and wonderous at the same time.
Finally, in waking life, a good play is enhanced by the tasteful scenery. Sometimes the scenery is so subtle, that we are mostly oblivious to it. Yet in good dream work, it is also fruitful to attend to the seemingly small details with all of our senses.
I encourage individuals to write down their dreams in detail. I often ask people to tell me their dreams at least twice. It is interestingly that we often add important details the second time around. And I often find myself asking dreamers to describe exactly what they see and hear and feel. The scenes add insight beyond the words.
Good theatre is often highly symbolic. Likewise, the dream world is symbolic. Sigmund Freud rightly offered to the world the perspective that “Dreams are the royal world to the unconscious.” Yet, he assumed our dreams tricked us and tried to repress difficult and painful aspects from our unconscious. In contrast, Jung believed our soul wanted to tell us a story through the symbolic. In contrast to our partners in the animal kingdom, human were created to be symbolic creatures. We long for art and mythology and theatre and storytelling. It is here that we often reach deep within and marry the world of emotions and sensations to thought and philosophy.
There is another important word that I always teach dreamers — ASSOCIATIONS. Associations are just what they sound like. We bring memories and thoughts to something that sometimes seem far afield. One time a strange creature arrived at my door and he reminded me of Chewbacca from a Star Wars movie I had just seen. Thus, I understood that the creature was friendly and helpful. Perhaps a strange man reminds us of Doctor Doolittle. Or we see in our mind’s eye a cracked tea pot and we remember Great Aunt Bessie. This is the stuff of dreams.
In Jungian dream work, we associate. Yet, the association is not an ever-ending chain of seemingly disjointed thoughts and memories. Rather, itis important for the dreamer to continually circle back to the essence of the dreams story. In my mind’s eye, we are circling around the dream images and from time to time dipping into the deep well of memories and feelings. This is how the unconscious helps guide us. Little by little, we attempt to build a story out of these images and fragments.
Perhaps most importantly, a dream is pregnant with meaning. Akin to the long process of pregnancy, a good dream remains with us. A times, a new insight into a dream visits us a week or a month later. Sometimes a new dream or introspective work from another place enriches the original images.
My important dreams have become a living part of my life and for this I am grateful. I continue to remember, visit, and sometimes write about them over the years.
And I still treasure my earliest dream memory of a witch. Perhaps this revisiting dream is akin to returning to view a treasured play many years later. This time around we notice newness.
Won’t you join me in my dream series, as I attempt to entice into a new type of theatre?
And for those of you who are interested, I recommend Robert Bosnak’s short and easy to read book.
P.S. This dream series is meant to intrigue you into documenting and working on your dreams. Dreams can also be frightening. Sometimes they remind us of past trauma. Or sometimes we just can’t understand. If it is too hard to do alone, it is time to seek out a trusted friend. And sometimes, it is important to seek out the assistance of a therapist to assist you as a helpmate on a difficult journey.
Robin B. Zeiger, Ph.D. is a Jungian analyst and a free-lance writer. She is a member of the Israel Institute for Jungian Psychology and the International Association for Jungian Psychology. She can be reached at rbzeiger@yahoo.com.
