How Your Body Can Help You Find Meaning in Your Dreams
Have you ever had a dream
that seemed really important, and you wished you knew what it meant? What if I
told you that you have a powerful ally very close at hand, who knows
more about some parts of your life than you do, and who could help you discover
the meaning of your dream?
That ally is your body. Let me show you what I mean...
That ally is your body. Let me show you what I mean...
Meet Laura, a 30-something dance teacher in the
middle of a major career change. She's
just graduated from a psychotherapy training program.
Eventually she would like to spend most of her time doing deep therapeutic work with people, and gradually give up teaching dance. Her mentor has been encouraging her to take the plunge, but she feels herself hesitating and caught up with the details of managing her teaching career.
At the start of our dream work session, we sat facing each other on the floor of Laura's studio space. She told me her dream while consulting her notes. The dream seemed like an important one but she seemed a little distant from it. I asked her to tell the dream again, without her notes, and as if she were there, reliving it. During the second telling Laura dropped in more deeply, and reconnected to the feelings in the dream. Her face and body looked softer and more fluid to me.
Discovered Enormous Ship Dream
I am on vacation somewhere tropical. I decide to go scuba diving without equipment (free diving). In waking life I often panic under water. In the dream I decide to brave it. My desire to discover is stronger than my fear.
I dive in, holding my breath. I see many spectacular things but I can't remember anything specific until I discover a huge shipwreck. Here I am without any equipment - it's amazing! I'm so teeny tiny under the huge ship. It's like a human beside a whale. It's so enormous and I'm so tiny. I'm swimming along underneath it – it’s amazing what I can do with just one breath!
This part of the dream repeats 2 or 3 times. I see myself from behind, a back view of tiny me swimming along under the huge belly of the ship. I swim along the centre line of the enormous ship. There's something about the zoomed out view that's more distant. Something is blocking me from being all in. I'm split. I'm watching myself.
When I come up to the surface I feel disorientated. It’s SO different from my experience below. I'm back in the ordinary world and I don't know how to get back to the hotel. It's not a big deal though. I go into the town. I can't remember the name of our hotel but I'm certain I'll find my way.
I asked Laura what she had made of the dream so far. My own first impression was that it was a positive, encouraging dream. It showed her overcoming her fear, diving deep, and discovering something wonderful. What was the wonderful thing? What was the dream asking? This is what I hoped the dream work would show us.
"I'm at the verge of something huge. I think the shipwreck is my soul purpose, becoming a therapist. Like the boat, it's been waiting to be discovered. I feel that I'm capable but I haven't dived in. My mentor is urging me to start. He's kicking me out of the nest. I don't want to leave! Do I have enough to offer yet? Would I be able to help other people as much as he has helped me?" Laura was crying as she spoke - she was clearly deeply moved.
At this point I feel that the dream is well connected to Laura's waking life. She has leaped to this realization partly based on her own long experience of working with her dreams, and partly because I have made space for her to reconnect directly to the feelings in her dream.
It’s time to move into the body based work. I asked Laura to stand in her neutral posture. I often “read” people’s bodies at the beginning and end of a session, to look for muscular and energetic holding patterns. This often points in the direction the work needs to go. Laura's a dancer, and has a more balanced posture than most people. I couldn’t pick out much characteristic or diagnostic in her stance. I noticed a fractional difference in how she held her weight and asked about it. She said she felt more weight on her right foot, which was rotated slightly backward. This seemed significant to me but I wasn't sure yet how to interpret it. Was she too anchored in place? Was she turning away from stepping into action?
I asked Laura to scan her body and let me know what she noticed. She told me that her shoulders seemed more rounded forward than usual and she showed me: her chest became more concave as her shoulders collapsed forward and slightly downward. With a kind of physical intuitive leap she said that this rounded shape was like the belly of the ship.
I invited Laura to exaggerate the rolling of her shoulders even more and to play with the posture. She went with the experiment quite spontaneously. She rolled her shoulders even further forward and let her arms hang down long in front of her. Her body began to rock, as if by the sea, and soon she rolled down to the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, and upper body bent forward. "I feel like a huge container, a huge space that's all encompassing. It's safe and wonderful. Protective," she said. "The space is empty, waiting. It's waiting for people to come and occupy it - it's all ready to go." I asked what would need to happen for the people to come. Did some action need to take place? "Yes," answered Laura-as-ship. "But not by me." "Who needs to act?" I asked. "Laura," replied the vessel, with quiet certainty. "I can see her swimming close by. She's in awe of this huge shipwreck."
It was Laura who needed to take action. "Let's switch," I said, and I took on the ship posture on the floor. Laura quickly changed her position. She lay face down and began to swim.
"I'm so small and tiny compared to the huge ship. I'm trying to hold my breath long enough to discover what's here. I need to come up for air. Maybe the inside of the ship is sealed and I could breathe in there. Do you think I can get into you from the top?"
"Why don't you swim closer and try?" I suggested. Her swimming movements got more active as she said "I'm swimming up. I feel I need to enter from the top, like a submarine."
She arrived at the top of the ship, opened the hatch, climbed in, and closed the door behind her. "I'm feeling fear and excitement as I move down," she relayed. I watched as very real emotions surfaced for Laura. She was crying and her breathing deepened. "These are tears of joy," she said. "I'm so privileged to finally be here. I'm so addicted to preparation - to finally arrive is huge. The ship is huge too."
I sat quietly by her side. She touched her ears and opened and closed her jaw, like a stretch. "I can feel my ears a little plugged from the pressure change. It's like I'm acclimatizing."
I wondered where she was in the ship. I asked her a question about it, and then regretted it. My question seemed to break the spell, creating some distance between Laura and the dream ship. "I'm about four feet in," she replied. "The huge mother ship." The phrase seemed important and I repeated it. We sat quietly for a moment. We became aware that most of our time was up. I felt that with more time we could have explored more deeply. But now it was time to check in and create a response to the dream.
We were both more in waking reality again. I asked Laura if her connection to the dream had shifted during the body based work. "It’s very cellular now" she replied simply.
In our final minutes together I asked Laura what response to the dream felt right for her. What was the dream asking for? She had connected the enormous ship to the deep therapeutic work she wanted to embark on. After the body based dream work she told me that she felt she had finally arrived: she saw herself in her office and ready to work. "I'm ready to offer something. I'm going to dive in and do it."
We talked about the three types of responses to dreams. The first (and sometimes the only one needed) is the imaginal (engaging active imagination); Laura had begun that response already today by playing the part of the ship and of dream Laura and exploring her dreamscape until the connection to her waking life was clearer. Continuing to move deeper into the belly of the ship in active imagination would likely bring even more insight.
The next level of response is ritual. Laura's idea was to find a submarine-like model ship and place it by her bed to remind her of the meaning of her dream.
It was clear that the active response in waking life would be the therapeutic workshop or private sessions that Laura would be offering. Laura chose to take away the action of picking an event to schedule, and putting out the invitation. When I followed up with Laura a few weeks later she told me "I can now see myself doing this soul work and it has started to happen."
In this session, I helped Laura to connect through her body and through her feelings to her dream. Her body and feeling guided us on a journey of discovery. Laura was able to break through fear that had disabled her – holding her back from diving into her chosen career. Maybe you can relate? I know I can.
Eventually she would like to spend most of her time doing deep therapeutic work with people, and gradually give up teaching dance. Her mentor has been encouraging her to take the plunge, but she feels herself hesitating and caught up with the details of managing her teaching career.
At the start of our dream work session, we sat facing each other on the floor of Laura's studio space. She told me her dream while consulting her notes. The dream seemed like an important one but she seemed a little distant from it. I asked her to tell the dream again, without her notes, and as if she were there, reliving it. During the second telling Laura dropped in more deeply, and reconnected to the feelings in the dream. Her face and body looked softer and more fluid to me.
Discovered Enormous Ship Dream
I am on vacation somewhere tropical. I decide to go scuba diving without equipment (free diving). In waking life I often panic under water. In the dream I decide to brave it. My desire to discover is stronger than my fear.
I dive in, holding my breath. I see many spectacular things but I can't remember anything specific until I discover a huge shipwreck. Here I am without any equipment - it's amazing! I'm so teeny tiny under the huge ship. It's like a human beside a whale. It's so enormous and I'm so tiny. I'm swimming along underneath it – it’s amazing what I can do with just one breath!
This part of the dream repeats 2 or 3 times. I see myself from behind, a back view of tiny me swimming along under the huge belly of the ship. I swim along the centre line of the enormous ship. There's something about the zoomed out view that's more distant. Something is blocking me from being all in. I'm split. I'm watching myself.
When I come up to the surface I feel disorientated. It’s SO different from my experience below. I'm back in the ordinary world and I don't know how to get back to the hotel. It's not a big deal though. I go into the town. I can't remember the name of our hotel but I'm certain I'll find my way.
I asked Laura what she had made of the dream so far. My own first impression was that it was a positive, encouraging dream. It showed her overcoming her fear, diving deep, and discovering something wonderful. What was the wonderful thing? What was the dream asking? This is what I hoped the dream work would show us.
"I'm at the verge of something huge. I think the shipwreck is my soul purpose, becoming a therapist. Like the boat, it's been waiting to be discovered. I feel that I'm capable but I haven't dived in. My mentor is urging me to start. He's kicking me out of the nest. I don't want to leave! Do I have enough to offer yet? Would I be able to help other people as much as he has helped me?" Laura was crying as she spoke - she was clearly deeply moved.
At this point I feel that the dream is well connected to Laura's waking life. She has leaped to this realization partly based on her own long experience of working with her dreams, and partly because I have made space for her to reconnect directly to the feelings in her dream.
It’s time to move into the body based work. I asked Laura to stand in her neutral posture. I often “read” people’s bodies at the beginning and end of a session, to look for muscular and energetic holding patterns. This often points in the direction the work needs to go. Laura's a dancer, and has a more balanced posture than most people. I couldn’t pick out much characteristic or diagnostic in her stance. I noticed a fractional difference in how she held her weight and asked about it. She said she felt more weight on her right foot, which was rotated slightly backward. This seemed significant to me but I wasn't sure yet how to interpret it. Was she too anchored in place? Was she turning away from stepping into action?
I asked Laura to scan her body and let me know what she noticed. She told me that her shoulders seemed more rounded forward than usual and she showed me: her chest became more concave as her shoulders collapsed forward and slightly downward. With a kind of physical intuitive leap she said that this rounded shape was like the belly of the ship.
I invited Laura to exaggerate the rolling of her shoulders even more and to play with the posture. She went with the experiment quite spontaneously. She rolled her shoulders even further forward and let her arms hang down long in front of her. Her body began to rock, as if by the sea, and soon she rolled down to the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, and upper body bent forward. "I feel like a huge container, a huge space that's all encompassing. It's safe and wonderful. Protective," she said. "The space is empty, waiting. It's waiting for people to come and occupy it - it's all ready to go." I asked what would need to happen for the people to come. Did some action need to take place? "Yes," answered Laura-as-ship. "But not by me." "Who needs to act?" I asked. "Laura," replied the vessel, with quiet certainty. "I can see her swimming close by. She's in awe of this huge shipwreck."
It was Laura who needed to take action. "Let's switch," I said, and I took on the ship posture on the floor. Laura quickly changed her position. She lay face down and began to swim.
"I'm so small and tiny compared to the huge ship. I'm trying to hold my breath long enough to discover what's here. I need to come up for air. Maybe the inside of the ship is sealed and I could breathe in there. Do you think I can get into you from the top?"
"Why don't you swim closer and try?" I suggested. Her swimming movements got more active as she said "I'm swimming up. I feel I need to enter from the top, like a submarine."
She arrived at the top of the ship, opened the hatch, climbed in, and closed the door behind her. "I'm feeling fear and excitement as I move down," she relayed. I watched as very real emotions surfaced for Laura. She was crying and her breathing deepened. "These are tears of joy," she said. "I'm so privileged to finally be here. I'm so addicted to preparation - to finally arrive is huge. The ship is huge too."
I sat quietly by her side. She touched her ears and opened and closed her jaw, like a stretch. "I can feel my ears a little plugged from the pressure change. It's like I'm acclimatizing."
I wondered where she was in the ship. I asked her a question about it, and then regretted it. My question seemed to break the spell, creating some distance between Laura and the dream ship. "I'm about four feet in," she replied. "The huge mother ship." The phrase seemed important and I repeated it. We sat quietly for a moment. We became aware that most of our time was up. I felt that with more time we could have explored more deeply. But now it was time to check in and create a response to the dream.
We were both more in waking reality again. I asked Laura if her connection to the dream had shifted during the body based work. "It’s very cellular now" she replied simply.
In our final minutes together I asked Laura what response to the dream felt right for her. What was the dream asking for? She had connected the enormous ship to the deep therapeutic work she wanted to embark on. After the body based dream work she told me that she felt she had finally arrived: she saw herself in her office and ready to work. "I'm ready to offer something. I'm going to dive in and do it."
We talked about the three types of responses to dreams. The first (and sometimes the only one needed) is the imaginal (engaging active imagination); Laura had begun that response already today by playing the part of the ship and of dream Laura and exploring her dreamscape until the connection to her waking life was clearer. Continuing to move deeper into the belly of the ship in active imagination would likely bring even more insight.
The next level of response is ritual. Laura's idea was to find a submarine-like model ship and place it by her bed to remind her of the meaning of her dream.
It was clear that the active response in waking life would be the therapeutic workshop or private sessions that Laura would be offering. Laura chose to take away the action of picking an event to schedule, and putting out the invitation. When I followed up with Laura a few weeks later she told me "I can now see myself doing this soul work and it has started to happen."
In this session, I helped Laura to connect through her body and through her feelings to her dream. Her body and feeling guided us on a journey of discovery. Laura was able to break through fear that had disabled her – holding her back from diving into her chosen career. Maybe you can relate? I know I can.