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November, 2016
3 29Fran, a little one (our child, our dog?), female, asleep under a light blanket, and I are on a road trip together. I am driving. Suddenly, our way is reduced to a single lane, we are the only ones on it, and there is abundant snow. Construction barriers, partly covered in snow, have forced us out of any lane or lanes on the right. I look ahead, as does Frances, and at first it seems the remaining left lane ends in a wall, of which Fran says: "There's no way ahead." My eyes can make out a narrow opening and route forward, too steep to drive, but I think maybe I can push our vehicle up it if Fran and the little one are out. Once they are (out), I try, but the way is suddenly so steep and snow-covered I cannot make it on my own, pushing our vehicle by myself. I ask Fran to help by pushing me, at least anchoring me, so I do not slip or fall backward. Yet the way is then even more steep, almost at right angles to where we had been. I am partly myself now up this steep embankment of snow, the vehicle ahead, nearly right over my head, Fran doing her best to push me from behind. As I look up, it only gets more steep, and there is a snowy overhang that looks as if it could at any moment break off and bury us or topple the vehicle over onto us. I am straining with all my strength. I realize we cannot go on, that we'll be lucky just to get safely back to our little one and level ground. I yell to Fran that we must go backward and very slowly and carefully. She had wanted and been willing to keep pushing me, but now she sees too it will take great coordination, strength, and luck simply to get back down safely to level ground.
"Go on back," I tell her, assuming she'll return and look after our little one and be safe. She does.
I am nearly exhausted, the vehicle still above and ahead of me, but at least it is partly held back from falling by the deep snow. If we can safely get out of this, I figure maybe there'll be a break in the weather, and the snow eventually will melt or something else will change, so we can move forward again, perhaps by a different route. It is still disappointing, but maybe we'll have better options later. I'm still in great danger of losing my footing or sufficient strength to hold the vehicle up and ahead, but have still a little hope (when I wake up).
[Of Fran, I'd say she is brilliant, well organized, and a good facilitator, easily using her various talents in helping others accomplish what they wish to do. As a character in the dream, she is my anima, there to show by example similar attributes in me that can be emphasized.
I am driving on this path of my life. Yet, if this interpretation is correct, something is looming in the near future that looks to severely stymie that progress. I can no longer move forward, though there remains some hope that circumstances will change, or I shall find a new means later to continue to move ahead.
The wee one, a child or our dog, may be a combined character, at once Little Phil, standing for the precious inner child part of my larger Self, and my higher power (for dreams are dyslexic and "dog" reversed is "god"]. If she is my dog, Puff, though, then of her I'd say she is playful, yet getting more old and fragile, and that she is occasionally a bit snappish, especially if afraid or angry about something we make her do, but that she does not understand. Perhaps she too stands for an anima part of me, demonstrating by example or counterexample attributes in me to be enhanced or curtailed.
"Construction barriers" suggests that there has been growth but that now there are difficulties in its continuing.
The closing down of right-hand lanes likely means that options of analysis, reason, and logic are being greatly reduced. Movement instead more to the left means the way is one of heightened emotion, of intuition, and the realm of the unconscious.
Snow, however, especially in such accumulations, indicates suppression or repression of feelings. They are so frozen, my way through life is so closed down in the process, that there can be no progress ahead. A new way will have to be found, or I must wait till the emotional impasse is removed. Small-self identity on its own cannot accomplish this; nor can he even with the help of his anima.
Meanwhile, fruitless efforts are just wearing me out, an unsustainable and dangerous situation. I must let go, but carefully, so as not to make things worse, and give up trying to do it myself. If I persist and do not safely remove myself from the predicament, the whole frozen emotional mess could come crashing down, doing more damage, though mainly just to my ego.]
11/29/16 - Title: Dream One "Slow Strike"
A poisonous snake (approximately 3 foot long, black, yet seeming to have characteristics like a blend of a cottonmouth and a rattler) is in a transparent glass container, similar to a vase, but more bulbous in the middle. There is some kind of lid so it can breath yet not get out. It fills most of the space, coiled up. The impression is it is there because it's been caught and now will be subjected to research or maybe killed and its insides studied. I think I should let it out. Rather than taking it off to the woods or another outdoor habitat away from people, though, I let it out in one room of the house I share with (not sure - Frances, I think). Then, when I cannot immediately re-catch it and put it into a larger container (perhaps for transport to an outdoor location away from people), in fact do not right away see where it has gone, I go to another room and let Fran (or whomever it is) know what I've done and that I may need her help finding and catching the snake, so it cannot hurt us or our dog. She is not happy with the situation, sounding peeved that I'd do such a dumb thing as letting a poisonous snake free in our house but, though with exasperation and concern, she follows me back to the room where I had let it out of its glass container. And there it is! It is now near the middle of the little room and easy to spot. I immediately grab it at its neck. However, my grip on it is not perfect. It immediately begins to twist and use its body on my arm for leverage and loosens my hold at its neck still more. With its fangs exposed, open-mouth, it slowly gets more freedom from my grip. "I can't hold it!" I yell to Fran. Sure enough, it soon has twisted free enough that its fangs are against my thumb, and to my horror before my eyes it slowly pushes them in, for there's nothing I can do to stop it. "It got me," I say to Frances. I have no idea how to get free of the snake now or what I can do about the bite or its effects, but realize that whatever occurs next cannot be good (and I wake up, sort of fascinated and horrified that my good intentions have gone so awry!)
Title: Dream Two "Still Out of Control"
The snake and our family household remain the same as in Dream One. However, now the snake is free in our basement, a large space that is the same area as our first floor, probably at least 1600 square feet. The basement is just concrete, no wood flooring, carpeting, or tile covering it. The snake has plenty of places to hide (for instance, under appliances or stored stuff) or to come out and attack one of us. Fran and I see the snake out in the open from time to time, but when we try to catch or kill it, for instance with a broom or rake, it just quickly retreats to one of many hiding places. It is very fast. It is no longer safe for our dog to go into the basement, and Fran and I also have to be very careful when briefly down there. Precautions must also be taken to keep the snake from getting up and into the rest of our house. At least there are no noticeable water or food sources for the snake down there, so perhaps eventually it will die, if we can keep it down there.