Showing posts with label The Secret History of Dreaming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Secret History of Dreaming. Show all posts

Thursday, October 9, 2025

The importance of doing things before you're ready


As I work on a new book, I am reminded of one of the basic rules of life: If we wait until we are fully prepared in order to do something, we may never get it done. Perfection is not available in our human condition. It's important to do things before we think we are ready.
    A case in point, mined from my own journals in the period when I was working on my book The Secret History of Dreaming: 

I've spent the past few days reading and sketching my way into a chapter about Jung and Pauli. I have been prey to both the temptations and the performance anxiety associated with this theme.
    One of the temptations is to wait until I have read or re-read the 18 volumes of Jung's Collected Works (I own nine of these volumes, plus five volumes of selections from the others) and his memoirs and letters, and at least half a dozen of the biographies, and a dozen of the studies of his approach to synchronicity (all of which are also on my shelves or my desk). 
    There’s also a strong temptation to wait until I have found someone to explain Pauli’s Exclusion Principle, and Riemann Surfaces, and Violation of Parity and the Fine Structure Constant to me, and exactly where and why he differed with Einstein and (on another front) with Niels Bohr and the Copenhagen School, and the whole debate over symmetry - and until I have found someone else to disinter and translate Pauli's full correspondence with Aniela Jaffe and Marie-Louise von Franz. Oh yes, and of course to delay getting on with this chapter until I have hunted down the text of Schopenhauer's Essay on Spirit-Seeing, which turns out to have been a critical influence on Pauli's approach to dreams and reality and - after he pushed Jung to read or re-read it - on Jung as well (but is almost completely unavailable in English today and which I have - so far - been unable to locate online).
    At the very least, I realize, I want to go through the entire Jung-Pauli correspondence yet again (and the 400 Pauli dreams summarized and analyzed previously in Jung's Psychology and Alchemy) page by page, checking every reference, grounding every allusion in the personal and general history of their lives and their time, making sure I have missed nothing and understood everything.
    The performance anxiety centers on knowing that I understand Pauli’s physics no better than Jung, and do not have the advantage of having Pauli around to give me personal tutorials. And on the fact that there are a thousand Jungians (maybe many more) around ready to howl at any misrepresentation of the master.
    There is only one satisfactory response to such temptations and concerns.
    The only recourse is to get on and write the chapter NOW, regardless.

Sunday, December 10, 2023

If you want someone to interpret your dream...




If you want someone to interpret your dream, make sure they can tell it to you before you tell them.

A Turkish friend recalls that her grandmother used to take her dreams to a Şeyh (shaykh) of the Halveti Ussaki sufi order for interpretation. On one occasion, the Şeyh greeted her by telling her the essential content of her dream before she had told him the dream. She was shocked, but also convinced that the Sufi master was the right interpreter, if he could find a dream before she gave it to him.

This kind of thing is not unusual in cultures where the practice of dreaming is still strong. That the best 
dream interpreter is one who can tell you your dream before you tell it to him is a sound principle, when you think about it, because it suggests that such a person has great intuitive abilities, and maybe very useful connections on the other side of ordinary reality, and perhaps the ability to dive into the dream world - or at least your own energy field - at will.    I have written about the practices of a West African tribe who believe you can only trust an interpreter if he can tell you your dream before you tell him. 

I have also suggested (in my Secret History of Dreaming that Nebuchadnezzar was operating by the same principle when he challenged all the dream interpreters to tell him a dream he claimed to have forgotten. In a society that valued dreams highly and had advanced dream practices, I'll bet the king had not really forgotten his dream, but rather wanted to put the supposed dream experts through their paces. Daniel, famously, was able to access the king's dream and tell it to him because he had powerful assistance; he called on his God.

Let's be clear. This is not a pitch for dream interpretation. We want to help each other to claim the power of our own dreams. We do that by offering commentary by saying "if it were my dream", recognizing our own projections and encouraging the dreamer to accept or reject feedback according to their own instincts. When we are able to enter another person's dreamspace - as shamanic dreamers learn to do, with permission - we can say, "in my dream of your dream," again leaving final decisions about the dream to the dreamer.

If you are going to look for a dream interpreter nonetheless, look for someone who can find your dream before you tell him what's in it.

Friday, August 9, 2019

The dream diagnosis Dr Freud missed


The most famous of all the dreams Freud analyzed was one of his own, the Irma Dream. In The Interpretation of Dreams he gives a lengthy account of this 1895 dream and his work with it. In the dream, he inspects the mouth of a patient called Irma and discusses her condition with several doctors.
     His work with this dream, by Freud’s own account, led him to invent psychoanalysis. He wanted a “marble tablet” to be placed at the house where he analyzed the Irma Dream, with the following inscription:

IN THIS HOUSE, ON JULY 24th, 1895,
  THE SECRET OF DREAMS WAS
REVEALED TO DR. SIGM. FREUD

 The tragic irony is that in all his work on this dream, Freud may have missed a health warning that could have saved his life. Dr. José Schavelzon, a cancer surgeon who is also a psychoanalyst has concluded, after careful review of Freud’s personal medical records, that the Irma Dream contained an amazingly exact preview of precise symptoms of the oral cancer that killed Freud 28 years later.
The night before the dream, Freud received a visit from a junior colleague, “Otto”, with whom he was in the habit of sitting up playing tarok (a card game related to Tarot) and smoking cigars. They discussed the case of “Irma”, whom Freud had been treating for hysteria. Freud was irritated when Otto reported, “She’s better, but not quite well.” He spent part of his evening writing up Irma’s case history.
He then dreamed that Irma arrived in a large hall where he was receiving guests. He immediately took her aside and told her. “If you still get pains, it’s really only your fault.” She was pale and puffy, and told Freud she was suffering dreadful pains, especially in her throat: “It’s choking me”. Freud was alarmed, and began to fear he had been missing “some organic trouble” in his approach. He took Irma to a window and peered into her mouth. He had a hard time getting it open because “she showed signs of recalcitrance, like women with artificial dentures.” When he got a good look inside, he found very disturbing symptoms – “a big white patch” inside the mouth on the right side, and also “extensive whitish grey scabs.” Freud gave an oddly specific description of these scabs; they reminded him of “the turbinal bones of the nose.”
He called for a second opinion on his patient. His senior colleague Dr. M. appeared looking pale and clean-shaven, repeated Freud’s examination, and gave a positive prognosis; there was certainly an “infection” but “the toxin will be eliminated.” Another medical colleague, Leopold, was less confident; he found infection had spread to the patient’s left shoulder and that there was “a dull area low down on the left.”
The dream scene became a medical gathering. Freud’s associate Otto was there too. All four doctors – including Freud himself – had no doubt of the origin of the patient’s illness. Otto had given her an injection of “a preparation of propyl, propyis…propionic acid…trimethylamin”. Freud saw the formula for the last chemical printed in heavy type, underscoring its importance. He concluded his dream report: “Injections of that sort ought not to be made so thoughtlessly…And probably the syringe had not been clean.”
In commenting on his dream, Freud began by noting that he had been thinking and writing about his patient the night before. Yet this left the content of dream totally mysterious to him, since his actual patient did not have symptoms anything like the ones that concerned him in the dream. “Constriction of the throat played scarcely any part in her illness. I wondered why I decided upon this choice of symptoms in the dream but could not think of any explanation at the moment.”
Freud wondered whether Irma, in his dream, was actually a stand-in for another patient, who had experiences of choking. Freud’s analysis wandered off through many other associations. When he pondered the names of the chemicals in his dream, he recalled a conversation in which a colleague suggested that trimethylamin might be an element in sexual arousal. This carried him away into “Freudian” thoughts about the probable source of hysteria in sexual frustration.
He wrapped up his interpretation of his Irma dream by declaring that it was a text-book example of wish fulfillment in dreams. He had been jarred the night before by Otto’s suggestion that his patient had not been fully cured. In his dream he got his “revenge” on Otto by establishing that her pains were Otto’s fault, not his own.
In all his discussion of “substitution” – how a dream character may stand in for another person, or several other people – he paused for only a heartbeat to consider the possibility that the real patient might be the dreamer himself. He wondered whether the “scabs” that resembled nasal structures could be a warning to him about the possible effects of his excessive use of cocaine – but moved briskly on from that thought without considering other substances and their possible effects.
Twenty-eight years after the Irma dream, Freud’s oral surgeons were looking at the precise symptoms he had dreamed – in Freud’s own mouth.
Early in 1923, a surgeon performed an excision of a cancerous growth resembling the “big white patch” on the right side of Irma’s mouth “at the right anterior palate.”
In a series of surgeries and treatments over the next fifteen years, Freud’s doctors worked to excise “proliferative papillary leukoplakia” inside his mouth resembling the unusual “scabs” in the 1885 dream. His many surgeries produced further scabs.
     In the Irma dream, the patient had difficulty opening her mouth. After Dr Pichler performed radical surgeries on Freud late in 1923, Freud - like the patient in his dream - had to wear "dentures", actually a removable prosthesis. Because Freud developed lockjaw during his multiple surgeries there was often difficulty inserting the prosthesis. Towards the end of his life, there were times when he “could not open his mouth.” 
     The reference to structures of the nose in the 1895 dream report may have been a preview of Freud's condition after surgery left the nasal cavity visible from the oral cavity.
     What about all the doctors who figure in the Irma dream? Stripped of their pseudonyms, they were medical colleagues who gave Freud differing advice on his smoking habit.  “Dr  M”, who gives a cheerful but wrong prognosis for the patient, was  actually Dr Joseph Breuer, a friend and mentor who was persuaded by Freud - despite misgivings - to drop his opposition to Freud's heavy cigar smoking.
   “Leopold” was a “slow but sure” medical colleague who had cautioned that smoking could contribute to serious diseases.
   “Otto” was Oskar Rie, a friend who shared Freud’s taste for cigars and may have brought him a gift of cigars the night before the dream.
    Whether Freud’s dream doctors represented aspects of himself – or their actual personalities and positions – their role in the dream held up a mirror to the dreamer’s behavior and attitude. Unfortunately, he was able to see in that glass only darkly.
   Freud thought the syringe (the German word also means “squirter”) was a penis and that the cure for the patient's symptoms was sexual intercourse. But a “dirty syringe” could also be a nicotine delivery system - one of the cigars Freud was almost certainly smoking the night before. All the chemicals named in the Irma Dream are found in cigar smoke. Though trimethylamin is not regarded as a carcinogen, when mixed with nitrites in an acidic environment (such as the smoker's mouth) it can be “nitrosated” into a very toxic carcinogen, dimethylnitrosamine (DMNA).
     The evidence suggests that Freud’s dream gave him a rather exact picture of both the origin and the histology of the oral cancer that subjected him to a painful and protracted death. Although Freud became interested in the idea that dreams can contain messages from the body, he missed this one - unlike Jung, who gave up smoking because of a dream.
     An important question for our understanding of the nature of diagnostic dreams is whether the Irma Dream may have contained a warning message from inside Freud’s cellular system, as it was at the time of the dream. In other words, could the Irma dream have been a “tumor marker”? It is possible that a single affected cell could trigger a dream, sending a distress signal out via neighboring cells, or via the endocrine system, that was shaped into a dream by the production company in the brain.
Freud may have paid an enormous penalty for forcing his own dreams to run along narrow-gauge rails of interpretation. Since the bigger story of the Irma Dream has such large resonance for dream interpretation, it seems appropriate that the pseudonym Freud chose for his patient means “universal”.
Somehow this tragic episode has escaped most of the legion of students and biographers of Freud. It suggests that Freud may have paid a terrible price for ignoring both the premonitory and the somatic aspects of dreams, and it offers a cautionary message for all of us as dreamers: let’s remember to check for diagnostic content in dreams.

Adapted from The Secret History of Dreaming by Robert Moss. Published by New World Library. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Dreaming by the Book

I am often asked where do you start if you are new to my books. The linear answer is: with Conscious Dreaming (my first and still my foundation book introducing my marriage of shamanism and dreamwork) and/or The Three "Only" Things (easily accessible, with lots of games I developed later, including the Lightning Dreamwork process and fun ways of navigating by synchronicity).
    The history professor in me says: start with The Secret History of Dreaming. The healer in me who loves to see the light of returning soul in the eyes says: go for Dreaming the Soul Back Home. The part of me who walks close to Death, and to dead poets, nominates The Dreamer's Book of the Dead. The dream teacher who wants to see circles of active dreamers growing everywhere, now, says: Active Dreaming
    The poet in me says: start with Here, Everything is Dreaming, filled with poems and stories that stream straight from the dreaming. The novelist in me says: go read the three novels in my Cycle of the Iroquois, Fire Along the SkyThe Firekeeper, and The Interpreter. These flow from my dreams and "far memories" and are a window into the shamanic dreaming practices of Native Americans as well as the life dreams of pioneers on America's first frontier. 
    The frequent flyer in me says, if you are already feel at home in the multiverse, and want more travel itineraries, go for Dreamgates. The fellow whose life was turned upside down, and is still turning, after an ancient Mohawk/Huron woman shaman called him in dreams and visions, says, go for Dreamways of the Iroquois. The man who succeeded in staying alive in this world by reading and acting on dreams of the possible future picks Dreaming True.  
     If you like audio, you can go for my Sounds True series Dream Gates: A Journey into Active Dreaming. (This is not a book on tape, and please don't confuse it with Dreamgates the book, which was written later and has different content). If you like video, play with my video series The Way of the Dreamer (Psyche Productions) in which I not only talk but demonstrate the core techniques of Active Dreaming with the help of a lively circle of dreamers. This is now available for digital download. My recording of shamanic drumming for dream travelers, Wings for the Journey, is available for audio download.
     I can't pick a favorite, and yet I must admit I have special fondness for The Boy Who Died and Came Backa memoir of my adventures in the multiverse since I literally died and came back as a child in my native Australia. 
     And I am excited by the publication of my latest book, Sidewalk Oracles: Playing with Signs, Symbols and Synchronicity in Everyday Life.  T
his is all about dreaming wide awake, full of wonderful games - like playing Sidewalk Tarot - and the 12 Rules for Becoming a Kairomancer. 

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Death speaks to Jung through the trees


In a cold snap after his wife Emma died, the vine over the front door of Jung’s tower at Bollingen oozed a strange red sap that ran down over his crest. He felt the vine was weeping tears of blood.
    Shortly before his death, Jung dreamed of the “other Bollingen”, the counterpart in another world of the sanctuary he had helped to build with his own hands. The place was suffused with sourceless light. The deep voice he had come to trust told him his new home had been completed and was now ready for him to move in. Far below the tower, he saw a mother wolverine teaching her child to dive and swim in shining water.
    Jung died at quarter to four in the afternoon on June 6, 1961.Two hours after his death, an old poplar in the garden where he had watched the changing moods of the lake was struck by lightning in a sudden storm. The tree survived, but it was completely skinned; great strips of bark covered the garden. Those who knew felt the strong play of synchronicity in the lightning-struck tree.
     Jung might have seen a deeper level of symbolism. In his last recorded dream, he saw a grove of trees “all fibrous roots, coming up from the ground and surrounding him”, with gold threads gleaming among the roots.  He had written that our true life is “invisible, hidden in the rhizome”; what we see in the leaf and bark and blossom passes. Beneath the flux of our surface lives, the rhizome remains. Lightning stripped the bark from the tree, and death stripped away Jung’s body;  life continued, rooted in an unseen world.

Adapted from The Secret History of Dreaming by Robert Moss. Published by New World Library.


Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Bazaar of Dreams



I am in a marvelous space, with curving arches and columns under a high ceiling. Some long tables run across the hall, as if waiting for market vendors to display their wares, but this space has been cleared for me and a group I am leading in an adventure in active dreaming. Through a rounded doorway I see people walking in a busy, sunny market street. I am happy to be here, in this Bazaar of Dreams.
    With me are some entrepreneurial women who are doing a great job of organizing the program and want to help me find ways to bring my teachings to many more people. One of them tells me she wants to introduce me to a woman friend "in shipping" who can help to send out my message - that through dreaming we can wake up to our place in the multiverse - in many new directions. 
     We are gathering for the last morning session of my workshop. I greet people in several languages, in French and Spanish and possibly Turkish. 
With formal respect, I salute an elder of this city who has honored me by his presence. He is a tall, elderly man with a white mustache, slightly stooped, formally dressed in a suit of an interesting color; orange more than brown, his suit is the color of old bricks.   
    Before the group is fully assembled, I deliver an impromptu lecture about dreams in the history of world religions. I observe that many, if not all, religions, are born and grow through dreams and visions, and that most of them continue to acknowledge the importance of dreams, at least in theory. The problem is that religious authorities tend to say, "We will tell you what your dreams mean."

     This is a problem, also, with spiritual orders, even the most enlightened. I must tread cautiously now, because I know that many of those present are sympathetic to the Sufis, and we may even have a Sufi shaykh in our midst. Nonetheless, I must explain that in my school - as in the dreamwork movement in general - we do not hand over our dreams to any authority for interpretation. We can say to each other, "If it were my dream, I would think about such-and-such", but our purpose is make it clear that dreams belong to the dreamer, not the guru, the shaykh, or the supposed expert. "Our task is to help each other to become authors of meaning for our dreams and our lives."
    

Feelings: Happy, filled with a sense of expansion and creative possibility.

Reality: Once again, I see that my dream self is at least as active as a teacher as my waking self, and covers even more geography.
   My dream self speaks the same way I do in regular life; see, for example, the chapter on "Divine Dreams" in my Secret History of Dreaming. I am interested in Sufi approaches to dreaming, and have studied and written about the great medieval Sufi explorers of the imaginal realms, Suhrawardi and Ibn al 'Arabi, as well as Rumi. Over several decades, I have had an ongoing realtionship, in a parallel reality accessed through dreams and visions, with certain "princes of the East" who seem to carry the wisdom of ancient Persia. I have studied the history of dreaming in the Islamic world, especially under the Ottoman empire, where dreams were assigned great importance, but were often taken to the shaykh (
Şeyh in Turkish) for interpretation; even sultans did this.
   My dream could well be a rehearsal for a future teaching situation. 

Question: Who is the elder in the brick-colored suit? Is that color significant?
Action plan: remember to show respect for different cultures and the elders of different traditions.

Due diligence: I recorded this dream in my travel journal on January 12, but only got round to typing it up now.

Charles Robertson, "Carpet Bazaar" (1887)