Last night, I slept like a log, in a deep, mostly dreamless sleep, except for one vivid dream. Grandpère and I were walking along a street in New York City, when we came upon a priest standing on the sidewalk waiting for his dogs to come out of an animal carrier trailer that was parked in the street. I did not recognize the priest, but I did recognize the dogs that walked down the ramp from the trailer that was parked in the street. As soon as I saw the dogs, I knew who the priest was. I won't name him, but I'll tell you that he's from a land across the sea. I don't know what he looks like, but I know what his dogs look like, except that, in my dream, all the dogs looked like Clumber, but they were HUGE, the size of St. Bernards.
I started over to hug the priest, but then, I stopped and said, "Oh, I can't do that, can I? Well, then, hello." You see, I followed the no-hugging rule, even in my dream. The priest did not seem pleased that we had discovered him sneaking into the US without telling any of his virtual friends here that he was coming. He was here for a dog show.
I introduced him to Grandpère, but he was not overly friendly to either of us, and after exchanging a few words, we went on our way, because I could see that the brief encounter was all there was to be.
He did not look anything like what I expected. He was wearing rather large unstylish glasses, like these, and that surprised me. Of course, perhaps the style is now on the cutting edge of a resurgence of coolness for big glasses. If I could draw, I'd make a picture of what the man in my dream looked like, but unfortunately I cannot. There you have it.
Hugs for the priest, but not an ear scratch, a "good doggie", or even a little treat for the dogs. They story of my life...
ReplyDeleteClumber, I am so sorry. Dreams go the way they will, you know. It was out of my control.
ReplyDeleteGood doggie! Scratch, scratch. And here's a gourmet doggie treat.
Very interesting... How do your own dogs feel about that? I wouldn't want Lindy dreaming of anydog except me.
ReplyDeleteWooF!
Rowan
Bishop of Lakes and Playing
+Rowan, I thought you'd be around to comment on this post. Diana doesn't know. I have not let her around the computer when the screen shows this post. She lacks computer skills and depends on me to get about on the intertubes, and sometimes I keep her away from certain sites. She is not as smart as you are. No dog is.
ReplyDeleteOH, let's have fun with this one. Have you read much Jung? I'm not a Jungian, and don't pretend to be one. But a couple of things stand out.
ReplyDeleteA visitor from a long way away who has brought his animals to show them to the people. A visitor with divine connections. Is this a way that you see Animus, the masculine element within the feminine personality?
Is this a version of the archetype that some Jungians have called the "Lord of the Animals"? Often known as a hunter god, and often horned or appearing as a ram or a goat or bull. One doesn't befriend the Lord of the Hunt. That would fit your dream. One receives a gift and is thankful (or becomes the victim of the hunt). Are the glasses a variation of horns? It speaks to that element of ourselves that is primal and connected to nature and cycles of life and death. Shiva is a Lord of the Hunt.
There is also the archetype of the Trickster, such as Loki or the Raven in Northwest Indian cultures. The Trickster is often present with dogs or appears as a dog or a fox. When you surprise the Trickster it doesn't turn out well.
A priest with animals visiting a foreign land - the archetypal shaman? He couldn't accept any gifts from your world for he couldn't return to his time and space.
You had a partner in the encounter: your husband, and you were both on the journey to meet the priest with dogs.
Finally, there is the archetype of the MadPriest. Most known for promising a picture and then never coughing one up. He is known for the gift of a wide range of music, stories of weeping virgins the odd PhotoShop image of the pope. That is probably what it was.
(Anyway, enough fun pretending to be a Jungian. Don't think it is my style. Sometimes patients try to tell me their dreams in a session and I nod and then try to get them back to the subject. But hey, I can pretend to be one for a day, eh?).
Dennis, I have read Jung. This is a masterpiece of Jungian interpretation, a window into the brilliant work that could follow if you'd change your mind about addressing the meaning of your patients' dreams. Think about it.
ReplyDeleteI think I remember one of the characters in a Walker Percy novel saying that every Episcopalian reads Jung.
ReplyDeleteYou do know this is how rumors get started...
ReplyDeleteIn your dreams, girlfriend!
ReplyDeleteOh my. Theses could be written about this.
I am sure the visitor's "real"-time counterpart is relieved to read that there was no hugging.
There are dreams, and then there are DREAMS.
ReplyDeleteI give up; I've been racking my brain cells (both at once!) for days now: who?
ReplyDeleteJohnieb, I am not naming names. You can cite me with contempt, but I'm not naming names.
ReplyDelete