Have you had any interesting experiences applying these skills to your own dreams? I’d love to hear from you—feel free to comment below or email me directly at innerlightasheville@gmail.com.
See you tomorrow for the final day of this dreamwork journey, when we will put it all together!
In closing, I offer you this, one of my favorite dream stories:
Back when I was taking some prerequisite psychology courses at UCLA, I lost my keys. I was on my way out to the high desert to soak in wild hot springs, so I didn't let it bother me. I knew the keys would turn up when I got back.
But as I camped and hiked and soaked I turned the problem over in my mind. I'd checked the drawer, all my bags, the table, the counter...
Then, one night, under the clear stars of the desert, I had a dream. Carl Jung was crooking his finger at me from a chair near a window.
"Pssst," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I know where your keys are." He pointed to the wardrobe, which flew open, and I saw my grey corduroy pants there, folded neatly. Of course! I had been wearing those cords the day before! The keys must be tucked into the pocket!
I was so excited the next morning. A personal message from Jung himself! I babbled excitedly to my friends as we hiked about how Jung's theory of the collective unconscious and the mysterious synchrony of dreams was always taking flak from the scientific community for being impossible to empirically verify. Well here I had the means to prove it. Should I return home and find the keys in the pocket of my cords, it would PROVE that there is a collective wisdom larger than ourselves that can transmit messages in dreams!
"Or," remarked one of my friends (whom I suspected had been hoping for a slightly quieter morning) "that some part of your brain remembered where you'd put the keys and, once the constant buzz of your consciousness was out for the count, was finally able to make itself heard."
I narrowed my eyes at him. He smiled at me and nudged my arm. "You have to think of all possible ways of interpreting the evidence, or you haven't proven anything at all."
Our journey came to an end, and my friends and I parted ways. I raced eagerly into my house, hurrying to the wardrobe to feel in the pockets of my cords. I was really rooting for Jung, here.
But--strike one for mysticism. The keys were not there.
I was disconsolate all day. So much for my personal connection with Jung. So much for dreams, and the collective unconscious, and a universal wisdom that surpasses our understanding.
Finally, I dragged myself to the table to study for my finals. I opened my Theories of Personality text to review the reading. And there, marking the place for the chapter on Jung and the Collective Unconscious, were my keys.