More on dream imagery and the co-creative paradigm
25/01/10 20:23 Filed in:
dream imagery, cocreative dream theory, dreamer
response
Traditional
dream work treats a dream image as a "given," a part
of a text or narrative created by the subconscious
mind and whose appearance is determined from the
beginning of the dream. Cocreative theory, in
contrast, treats the imagery as the "mutable
interface" (my words) between the dreamer's
consciousness and the dream content, which is
unformed
until it
is observed. In cocreative theory, the dream image is
a "quantum" event. That is, it does not exist prior
to perception, but comes into consciousness as a
cocreated product of the observer's "set" and the
content's agenda. So the image is what physicists
might call a resultant vector of two forces meeting.
What makes this even more complex is that the image
is a moment-to-moment, fluctuating interface--subject
to change in response to the dreamer's reaction to
it. Thus the image and dreamer are in a synchronous,
reciprocal feedback loop. Modern family therapy is
founded on this premise, which can be succinctly
summarized as, "Reciprocity is the governing
principle of relationships" (Nichols and Schwartz,
2008). Previously, this founding principle of systems
theory has not been applied to dreams for a variety
of reasons, not the least of which is the age-old
Greek theory of mimesis--that
dreams represent
something
in our waking lives. So we ask, "What does Jane
represent to you?" rather than, "What is the quality
of relationship between you and the Jane figure and
how is she changing in response to your style of
relating to her, and vice versa?" This is a longer
question, and generates a more complex answer, but it
preserves the rich, dynamic, relational process that
has been heretofore overlooked entirely in
traditional dream work. This process is the same
process that we understand to be at work in waking
relationships. So cocreative dream theory sees the
dream as possessing all of the ambiguity and
indeterminacy of a waking experience, which unfolds
according to the interaction between the observer and
the phenomenal realm.
I have had wonderful mentors in my life. I am currently working with a particular man, who is undoubtedly one of the best dream analysts that I have ever met. I love my work with him. But his model of dream work does not focus on the dreamer's response to the dream. Like Jung, my mentor is acutely attuned to the imagery, and brings a prodigious, intuitive understanding of imagery into our work. While I would never tell him how to work with my dreams, I did notice recently how we would have treated a dream of mine slightly differently. Let me briefly summarize the dream:
I am at the opening to a cave. I see a stone wall ahead of me, and as I look up the face of the wall, a golden man crouches on the edge of a ledge on the wall. He hurls an axe or hammer toward the floor, near to where I stand. It buries itself in the stone floor. I know that the impact of the hammer/axe will set in motion an earthquake that will open up a vault within the cave that contains something previously unavailable and very precious. I am concerned, however, that the falling and collapsing stone might hurt me, so I withdraw from the cave's opening. As the tremors build, I pass by a being who is half deer and half man. I am aware of his power, so I carefully skirt him, and enter a place that is totally dark. I grope blindly through the darkness.
My mentor was surprised at the deer/man image because it is the image of the shaman in many of the native American traditions. And what's more, he is an initiated shaman of the Huichol Indians of central Mexico. While I did not know him when I had the dream two years ago, the dream obviously anticipated his future influence in my life. In our work, he focused on the theme of a meaningful upheaval that would release something essential that had been previously unavailable to me.
However, I was also acutely aware of how I had avoided the deer/man, and wondered if my mentor would zero in on my response to the figure as problematic. He didn't. I have to admit that I was slightly relieved but if I had been working with this dream, the dreamer's avoidant behavior would have been the most important aspect of the dream. Why? As I have said before, regardless of what the images mean or prefigure, if the dreamer is failing to engage them, and establish a relationship, then there's a problem, regardless of the refined quality of the imagery.
As I made my next appointment, I was a bit indecisive. After all, there's a part of me that believes (foolishly) that I can do it on my own. But I overcame that momentary resistance, and made my next appointment. He smiled and said, "I have been aware of your ambivalence." I said, "I think we need to talk about that."
And we will! But my anxious ambivalence was wholly evident in the dream; that is, if one treats the dreamer's responses as freely manifested, and as a cocreative influence. Indeed, he might have confronted my ambivalence a bit earlier if he'd viewed the dream through my approach to dreams, in which an analysis of the dreamer's responses to the imagery precedes and supercedes an analysis of the imagery itself. I don't think he needs my help. Ultimately, it's his approach and his presence that ministers to me at this time.
I have had wonderful mentors in my life. I am currently working with a particular man, who is undoubtedly one of the best dream analysts that I have ever met. I love my work with him. But his model of dream work does not focus on the dreamer's response to the dream. Like Jung, my mentor is acutely attuned to the imagery, and brings a prodigious, intuitive understanding of imagery into our work. While I would never tell him how to work with my dreams, I did notice recently how we would have treated a dream of mine slightly differently. Let me briefly summarize the dream:
I am at the opening to a cave. I see a stone wall ahead of me, and as I look up the face of the wall, a golden man crouches on the edge of a ledge on the wall. He hurls an axe or hammer toward the floor, near to where I stand. It buries itself in the stone floor. I know that the impact of the hammer/axe will set in motion an earthquake that will open up a vault within the cave that contains something previously unavailable and very precious. I am concerned, however, that the falling and collapsing stone might hurt me, so I withdraw from the cave's opening. As the tremors build, I pass by a being who is half deer and half man. I am aware of his power, so I carefully skirt him, and enter a place that is totally dark. I grope blindly through the darkness.
My mentor was surprised at the deer/man image because it is the image of the shaman in many of the native American traditions. And what's more, he is an initiated shaman of the Huichol Indians of central Mexico. While I did not know him when I had the dream two years ago, the dream obviously anticipated his future influence in my life. In our work, he focused on the theme of a meaningful upheaval that would release something essential that had been previously unavailable to me.
However, I was also acutely aware of how I had avoided the deer/man, and wondered if my mentor would zero in on my response to the figure as problematic. He didn't. I have to admit that I was slightly relieved but if I had been working with this dream, the dreamer's avoidant behavior would have been the most important aspect of the dream. Why? As I have said before, regardless of what the images mean or prefigure, if the dreamer is failing to engage them, and establish a relationship, then there's a problem, regardless of the refined quality of the imagery.
As I made my next appointment, I was a bit indecisive. After all, there's a part of me that believes (foolishly) that I can do it on my own. But I overcame that momentary resistance, and made my next appointment. He smiled and said, "I have been aware of your ambivalence." I said, "I think we need to talk about that."
And we will! But my anxious ambivalence was wholly evident in the dream; that is, if one treats the dreamer's responses as freely manifested, and as a cocreative influence. Indeed, he might have confronted my ambivalence a bit earlier if he'd viewed the dream through my approach to dreams, in which an analysis of the dreamer's responses to the imagery precedes and supercedes an analysis of the imagery itself. I don't think he needs my help. Ultimately, it's his approach and his presence that ministers to me at this time.
