There is something about working with a dream that invites consciousness of place. The first time I met Ed Casey, in April of 2006, he mentioned how beautiful a place Ojai [California] is. “You should go there when you have time.” Ed is the author of many books about place:
So when Ed tells you to go someplace, you go. Seven years and 30 trips to Southern California later, I went. And Ojai is a beautiful place.
I was fortunate enough to have a couple of classes with Ed on Phenomenology and Ecology between the time of his recommendation and the time of my visit, and I was not the same person in part because of the the result of his frame of reference. I got there just before sunset, and the depth of my appreciation for Ojai and for Ed would be the subject of another blog.
For now I am concerned with the setting in which we work a dream, and the view from Ojai might be just such a place. So might the comfort of one’s own study, office, or the outdoors. Just as in remembering a dream, the setting in which it occurs is so important, so it is when re0inviting the presence of the dream in waking consciousness. When working with the images of a dream, as suggested in the work of James Hillman, Steven Aizenstat, or Robert Johnson, paying attention to the surroundings might be a key element in our ability to invite the image to come alive.
Some qualities to consider when sitting with a dream:
Quiet may be important, and limited interruption
Absence of electronic image, foreground and back
Access to art materials, clay, sand, or sketchbook
An inviting setting for the Guest, free from distraction
A flame, optional, representing the living image
Something organic; a flower, a plant, light
So in my home, I have a place for me and a Guest, whether that Guest be a dream figure of someone working with a dream:
And in that space the chairs are almost at a right angle. The attention is not on me, but allows for the attention of one or more people to be on the place in the room where the image will come. The door through which she may walk; the shelf on which it may perch; the floor on which he may sit.
Office, too, has the same position of space; plenty of light; and invitation to doors and windows for the dream image to approach. There is also something in this that reminds me of the sign in Jung’s office, translating to the English, “Bidden or Unbidden, God is Present.” That’s a sound reminder that the Higher Power or the Pantheon is not a mere lackey to be conjured up: Always present is the Psyche. Always here is the Divine. Always at hand is the Image. What differs is not the quality of that Presence, but our [my] ability to be present and to connect with that image. So whether it is a solitary spot or a group setting, as below, thee is always room for more. Isolation may be the choice but solitude can get very crowded very quickly. And pictures herein do not do justice to the majesty of the settings in which very personal and very transpersonal work with the dream image can be done. If you are new to dreamwork and want to know how, this particular entry offers little help, except perhaps to point to those who know better. Those who know, better.
So I have Ed Casey on my mind as I am flying to Southern California tomorrow. And though it is somewhat out of my way, I am intending to drive the windy path to Ojai, and to worship at the Cathedral of Place recommended by Ed.
The guy everyone loves to hate and no one can stop reading, that is the Sigmund Freud I know. Two parts genius, three parts misogynist, and some combination narcissist and cocaine addict, but one hundred percent confident in himself was Freud. Freud’s theories so dominated American culture from about 1910 to the 1970s that his works affected law, medicine, psychiatry, literature, art, and other diverse disciplines. In the second and third decades of the 20th century, Freud’s nephew, Edward Bernays, used the principles of psychoanalysis in a way that changed permanently the public relations and advertising industries in America, finding ways to promote smoking and bacon, for instance. [I find it hard to believe bacon ever needed unconscious promotion, by the way. That’s how well the programming has stuck.] By the 1930s, when the nation and much of the world was in a financial depression, psychoanalysis seemed to be the answer to collective woes, one person at a time. Alcoholics Anonymous was in formation at that time and contains reference to psychoanalytic terms such as “unconscious.” In popular culture, the influence of psychoanalysis found it’s way into a prominent role in the 1945 Alfred Hitchcock thriller Spellbound starring Gregory Peck.
Perhaps I had an early bias in that I knew Freud mostly through Jung and Jung’s split from Freud, which prejudiced my views from about age 20 onward. However, it is thrilling to consider the types of conversations Freud and Jung, and others pictured below, would have had on the journey of the groundbreaking trip to Clark University in September, 1909. Freud and Jung apparently analyzed each other’s dreams on the voyage. The trip was arranged by G. Stanley Hall, then president of Clark and a prolific author of varied periods such as adolescence (he framed the term, sturm und drang as the mood related to teenage years) and senescence, a subject in which he was already gaining firsthand experience during this trip.
Freud Defined the Early 20th Century
If nothing else, I would likely have had some resistance to Sigmund Freud due to the number of times I had to study the Topographical Theory of Consciousness (Ego, Id, Superego, etc.) How often did I have to study Sigmund Freud? More times than right triangles, more times than any poet but Shakespeare, and more times than European History and American History courses combined. He showed up in Religion 111 class at Sewanee when I was 18 years old (Future of an Illusion and Civilization and its Discontents) a Behavioral Psychology class there as well, and references to him constantly in German 351 (in translation, a course on Hegel, Nietzsche, and Dostoevsky). Then in graduate school for counseling, then in graduate school in psychology in a school where they recommended applicants read the 24 Volume Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud before admission, followed by an introductory course devoted to him.
So, multiple exposures over time in reading Freud – what changed? Reading Freud’s early works makes it clear he was a caring doctor and therapist and, one the way to forming his theories in granite, he showed excitement about tussling with the ideas of consciousness in order to help people with obvious psychosomatic disorders. Like other things in life, we sometimes finds what works – and then stop doing it. So it seems with Freud. It is an easy mistake to try to generalize the most personal lesson, something one sees in a patient and may or may not see in oneself, and then try to cast a rule about that observation in a way that says, “Eureka! I have found it, now I must bottle it and sell it!”Freud’s belief system hardened.
Approaching Mental Health in Victorian Times:
Early in his practice, Freud was amazed at the scope and damage of child sexual abuse. He very aptly traced problems that arose at the end of the latency period to earlier childhood sexual abuse, citing development as the trigger for later dysfunction. Freud saw that before an age at which children could understand sexuality, they did not have the capacity to fully understand the scope of their abuse. Only when they developed romantic or sexual feelings at an age of 8 to 10 did symptoms again come to the surface. His early writings on hysteria and on anxiety have a great deal to offer even today. During the 1890s, as he was not gifted in hypnosis, he used a pressure technique and the power of suggestion to unlock memories held by the body – which he presumed was mental memory: “”The [forgotten] pathogenic idea . . . is always lying ‘close at hand’ and can be reached by associations that are easily accessible.” [Standard Edition, Volume II, p 271] He became increasingly convinced that the threat of childhood “seduction” or abuse, imagined or fantasized, had equal power as the prevalent abuse from which he seemed to distance himself in later years.
A Tight Grip on his Baby, Psychoanalysis
Early on, Alfred Adler was the golden child of Freud’s slowly growing psychoanalytic movement. Few people today realize that Freud sold only a few hundred copies of The Interpretation of Dreams in the first seven years of publication. So those who revered his early work were not overwhelmed by his stardom (Okay, maybe Ernest Jones was). Adler had a falling out with Freud, then Carl Jung was the temporary heir apparent of psychoanalysis. Freud and Jung have differing accounts of the rift, but in Jung’s account there is striking similarity to the concern Adler expressed about dogmatic adherence to sexual development as an uncompromising position (no pun intended.)
Freud was human and fallible, but a very remarkable human indeed. As my story-telling friend Beth Easter once observed to me, “Grandiosity gets things done!” So a man of such confidence and action inspires some, alienates others. Freud’s endurance has as much to do with the uncanny way in which he seemed to polarize different camps and the many fields of endeavor in which that polarization is not easily dismissed. Reading biographies, either critical or worshiping, can do little but color in the lines Freud has already given us in his writings. Among the works of recent years, after Freud’s canonization has fallen a bit short, is Phyllis Grosskurth’s The Secret Ring.
In this work, the author uses the symbol of a ring Freud had made for the guiding members of the Vienna Psychoanalytic Society as an image for the inner circle (pictured at right about ten years into their operation, long after the departure of Adler and Jung) through which Freud reined in psychoanalysis.
As an addiction counselor and a group therapist, I have used throughout my career a list of defenses which can be traced to Freud, in part through Anna Freud. Whether it be mind games (rationalization, justification, alibiing, ) attempts to delude (switching focus, arguing, manipulation) and about forty others. Defenses are a necessary part of navigating childhood, functioning after trauma, and moving on after loss. If we had in the forefront of our mind at all times the memory of even one percent of all our emotional and physical pain, it would be debilitating. The problem is that those things that buy us time developmentally or in recovery from trauma do not serve us well over time. There is also “simple denial” which may be considered a complete erasure of a once known fact. There is minimization, a way of making large feelings or issues appear less of a problem. to these, and more, we owe Freud the concept of “knowing and not knowing.” This is how we are aware of something on one level of consciousness, and not another. It is an awareness most therapists use every working day of their lives, and Freud illuminated that significantly for all of us. That is some of the “love” relationship part with Sigmund Freud. Thank you.
Now Back to Quibbling . . .
But back to the main point. I started with a distaste for Freud, grew to have an appreciation for him, then ultimately returned to a more enlightened disdain than before. Coming along as I have in a less patriarchal era, and influenced by reading several feminist writers who have forced me to think in a different manner, I now find it hard even to excuse Freud for being a product of the Victorian era. Secretly, I love many of his writings and for his advancement of thought, Ultimately, I appreciate that we continue to have meaningful arguments 75 years after his death that are helping us shape our beliefs, meaning his influence is now alive in three centuries. And in the final analysis, it has been difficult to rely on Freud’s arguments for anything meaningful in my practice today.
I mostly quibble with Freud over that for which he is most famous – The Interpretation of Dreams. Freud adheres more and more as the book continues to the dogma that has been perhaps most successfully assailed by investigation and research: “A dream is the fulfillment of a wish.” It is as though he was convinced that by saying it enough it would become true. And for seventy years more or less, it stayed that way. Not until Kleitman and Aserinsky published in 1953 their study on REM sleep, the same year that Calvin Hall broke away with The Meaning of Dreams, did the chink in the armor begin to widen in the scientific world of sleep and dreams. Still, in popular consciousness, Portnoy’s Complaint and Dr. Bob Hartley (Newhart) were still representing psychoanalysis and psychiatry to the public well into the 1970s. It is hard to convince people today a psychiatrist is only there to play chemistry set with neurotransmitters, as many of my contemporaries still expect a fifty minute couch session.
The Love/Hate pays off for some . . .
Edward Glover and Bruno Bettelheim are two authors who took Freud’s side when it was popular and paid dividends to do so. Both of them drank the ideological Kool-aid that psychoanalysis proffered for half a century. Ernest Jones was also in that camp, and, quite the opposite of Bettelheim, Jones without much of his own talent her survived off Freud’s fallen crumbs of knowledge and wisdom like a pigeon in Mary Poppins. For the last forty years or more, it has paid to hate bury Freud, rather than to praise him. In the interesting but bashing book “Freud and Cocaine: The Freudian Fallacy, E. M. Thornton points to ways in which Cocaine might have had a negative impact on the development of Freud’s theories. What is most interesting is that what she says about Freud’s hypnosis guru, Charcot, could just has easily, over even better applied to Freud:
[His] work was quite unintelligible to his detractors both before and after his death. But to imply that a man of his calibre spent years of his life in pursuit of a chimera is to do an injustice to a very great neurologist.
I will close with a quote I like from Freud written before his Interpretation of Dreams. He started out with a gentle and welcoming mindset for the dream image or the images uncovered in his pressure association technique. A former mentor of mine once said something that I often recall, “If a client brings you an issue once and you miss it, that’s okay, it will come up again. If you miss it the second time, they will go somewhere else.” Freud said something similar in a statement that speaks to the importance of recurrent dream images and which equally be applied to most of his controversial concepts:
A picture which refuses to disappear is one which still calls for consideration, a thought which cannot be dismissed is one that needs to be pursued further. Moreover, an image never returns a second time once it has been dealt with; an image that has been ‘talked away’ is not seen again.
Wow. Where to start? Freud started by stealing the title used by Artemidorus of Daldis. Oneirocritica [Greek for “Interpretation of Dreams,”] written in the second century A.D. is considered the capstone dream work following centuries of compilations and dictionaries on dreams. Robert White in 1970 translated the work into English for the first time, rendering it more of a useful historical artifact than an actual how-to book. Sigmund Freud used the German title Die Traumdeutung also meaning “The Interpretation of Dreams.” Published in October, 1899, Freud chose the publication 1900 as he figured both he and the Gregorian calendar were about to usher in a new era. He was right, for as much as modern psychology and psychiatry rail against Freud, he is often the starting point of direction and discussion. These two books must be on any list about Dream Interpretation.
As one can see with the list of Worst Books on Dreams, there are so many books out there, it may be helpful to discuss large classes of books that offer wisdom on working with the dream, then cites some examples. So the groups of the best books on dreams would start with this list:
Classics in Psychiatry and Psychology of Sleep and Dreams
Authoritative Works on Nightmares, Night Terrors, and Sleep Disturbance
Compendiums of several Different Authors approaching Dreamwork
Emergent Methods of Working with one’s own dreams or the dreams of others
Dream Books that challenge the existing order without tearing down the framework of established methods
Classics, starting with Freud and Artemidorus, make people think. Jung was not as clear a writer as Freud. Memories,Dreams, Reflections with Anelia Jaffe categorizes many of his own career-impacting dreams, such as the dream of the Phallus and the dream of the “spectre of the brocken” from which we derive the archetype of the Shadow. In order to render his 20 volume collected works more accessible, Bollingen Press published a book serving as a compilation from articles on dreams across many of his writings. Classics also include some of the works that may be mentioned below by Allan Hobson, Montague Ullman, or Calvin Hall.
Nightmares: Ernest Jones was an early Cabin Boy of Freud, a yes-man of sorts whose journal articles and other writings seem to reflect less of his own work with dreamers and more compilation of the work of others. At the risk of blasphemy on a number of fronts, he was to psychoanalysis what the Apostle Paul was to the early Christian Church – a good organizer but no author of the gospel. He was ever during Freud’s lifetime a dutiful adherent to the Freudian party line. He may be best known for his three volume biography of Freud, but IMHO his best work with the 1930 “On The Nightmare.” He traces most of his work on this to 1911, after which time it lay dormant for a number of years. John Mack made a serious contribution to the Nightmare literature in 1970 with his book Nightmares and Human Conflict. In the 1993 “Counselling in Practice” series, Counselling with Dreams and Nightmares, there is a great chapter for therapists working with nightmares followed by a creditable distinguishing chapter on PTSD, nightmares, and night terrors, written by Delia Cushway and Robyn Sewell. Three books, three different eras, and this writer recommends that the last should be first and the first, last.
Compendiums or anthologies from different perspectives: The best of these is a series in the State University of New York [SUNY] Press. The General Editor of this SUNY series in Dream Studies is Robert Van de Castle, who passed away January 29th, 2014. But the editors of each book in the series reads like a “Who’s Who” of contemporary dream thought. These include Gayle Dalaney [Editor, New Directions in Dreamtending], Anthony Shafton, [Editor, Dream Reader: Contemporary Approaches to the Understanding of Dreams], and Kelly Bulkeley [Editor, Among All These Dreamers: Essays on Dreaming and Modern Society]. Length does not permit a longer discussion or more examples, yet each of these comprehensive works each present a different point of view, and in the the reader is certain to find herself or himself. The book that flipped my switch (from a counselor who happens to be a personal dreamworker to a therapist who also works with dreams in practice) is Stanley Krippener Dreamtime and Dreamwork, one of a couple dozen worthy works in the Jeremy Tarcher of Tarcher/Putnam Series on Consciousness studies. Krippener and contributors approach dreams from a healthy variety of different, and at times, conflicting approaches. This clarifies one’s beliefs more than a monograph that argues a specific point.
Emergent methods of working with dreams always excite me. Never do I feel that I have outgrown an approach. Clara Hill, a former president of the American Psychological Association, has made a viable academic tradition of training graduate students in an approach called the A-B-C, and I can read her work and marvel of how she has taken a wispy topic and given it simple form. A good working book for the public and professionals alike is Dream Work in Therapy: Facilitating Exploration, Insight, and Action.This book could fit into the category above, as several authors contribute; however, Hill offers a model that is simple with clearly defined moves at different stages of a dream. An even simpler model is proposed by Robert A Johnson in “Inner Work,” a small paperback and a quick read, nonetheless effective in implementing a four step approach. Johnson takes a dream of one of his clients, and simply carries through a discussion that has practical application for any lay reader or the most experienced dream clinician. Montague Ullman became the Johnny Appleseed of Dream Groups, co-authoring with Nan Zimmerman the wonderful book Working with Dreams. Ullman has contributed into dream ethics a democratic belief that the authority over the dream should rest with the dreamer, and not with an “Analyst” or doctor who has a higher level of knowledge about the dream or dreams in general. Many well-operating dream groups today spring from this notion.
Clinical applications of dreamwork find apt expression in Natterson’s The Dream in Clinical Practice and Bonime’s Clinical Uses of the Dream. More speciifically Jungian approaches can be found in Maryann Mattoon’s Applied Dream Analysis: A Jungian Approach. Erich Fromm’s Forgotten Languageshould not be forgotten. For non-Jungian approaches, another valuable strain began in 1953 with the publication of The Meaning of Dreams by Calvin Hall. 1953 was also the year of pioneering REM research published by Aserinsky and Kleitman which started to usher in the end of the Dogmatic period of psychoanalysis and its monopoly on dream analysis. Medard Boss analyzed some 20,000 dreams by his estimate in practice and offered also in the 1950s a detailed if not systematic departure from psychoanalysis in his 1957 work, The Analysis of Dreams. David Foukles has made tremendous post-Freudian contributions in A Grammar of Dreams. And Finally, Allan Hobson’s The Dreaming Brain has become since the 1970’s the watershed book about the deterministic functions of Brain Science in dreaming.
Stephen Aizenstat’s Dreamtendingis a model that draws on existing traditions, respecting the work of elders in traditions from academic to shamanic. Aizenstat’s approach invites the dreamer and those in dialogue with the dream to allow the dream images their own autonomy, their own voice, their own existence. Whereas Johnson’s Inner Work offers ideas about how to concretize the image, like suggesting the dreamer get some memento or keepsake in sight to remind the dreamer of the image, Aizenstat follows the model of Hillman’s Archetypal Psychology which leaves the images in their own realm and encourages the dreamer to meet the image there on their own ground, the liminal space of dreamtime. This honors the wisdom of the image by not holding it captive or dragging it into the light of day.
It would be a better service if this were more of an annotated bibliography, or, on the other side of brevity, a simple list of books. But my biases are my biases, and the reader of this blog should form her own opinion based on her experiences with the texts over and above what this author says of them. Sweet dreams!