Tag: dreams

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The Meanings of Houses in Dreams

Houses and homes are among the most frequent elements appearing in dreams, with a wide range of literal and symbolic meanings.

According to the Baseline frequencies of the Sleep and Dream Database, 47% of women’s dreams and 42% of men’s dreams include at least one architectural reference, with house, room, and home being mentioned the most often. These references are much more frequent than mentions of food and drink (14% women, 12% men), clothing (14% women, 11% men), and sexuality (4% women, 6% men). Among the vital necessities of life, the need for shelter seems to make the biggest impact on our dreaming experience. (Big Dreams, 104-105)

The frequency of houses in dreams surely reflects the large amount of time that many people spend in their homes. In literal terms, a house provides its occupants with safety, privacy, comfort, and warmth. As an enclosure built of durable materials, it separates inside from outside, domestic from public, family from stranger. For many homeowners, their house is their most valuable asset, a physical repository of their financial resources. This is why dreaming of a threat to one’s house, such as from fire or flooding, can be so disturbing. Especially in an era of rapid climate change, these kinds of worrisome house-danger dreams are likely to increase.

Dreams of houses also carry important symbolic meanings, in at least two different ways. One is the house as a symbol of family relations and childhood experiences. Dreams often cast us back into the homes we lived in as children many years ago, reminding us of how those experiences still shape and influence us today. A house can embody deep memories and formative events, both joyful and scary. What makes a house “haunted” in waking or dreaming is the uncanny presence of residents whose energies are still living even if they physically died long ago. When you dream of a childhood home, there may be a symbolic connection between something important that happened in that house and a difficult or challenging situation you are facing right now.

House dreams can also symbolize aspects of your mind and body. For instance, Carl Jung once dreamed of exploring a house with many different levels; as he descended from one floor to another, the décor changed from modern to ancient to paleolithic. Jung interpreted his dream as a symbolic portrayal of the human psyche, with modern consciousness at the “top” of the structure, and the depths of the collective unconscious at the “bottom.” Other psychologists treat house dreams as metaphors of the human body, with its various openings/orifices, its outer façade (“curb appeal”), secret inner spaces, plumbing and wiring, etc. If you have a house dream, it is worth considering how the condition of the building in the dream compares to the condition of your mind and body in waking life. Perhaps you discover the house needs maintenance or repair; maybe something especially tasty, or horribly nasty, is being cooked in the kitchen; you might find whole new rooms you have never explored before. Such dreams can use the familiar features of a house to help you better understand subtle, easily overlooked aspects of yourself.

House references in dreams can have both literal and symbolic levels of meaning, and the two levels often overlap. In American society, many people aspire to private home ownership in order to satisfy their literal need for shelter and also to mark their symbolic achievement of the “American Dream.” The common association of home ownership with the American Dream reflects an admirable striving for a good, settled, independent life. However, narrowly reducing the ideal of the American Dream to owning a private home can lead to an excessive focus on material gain and social status.

 

Note: this post first appeared in Psychology Today on January 6, 2025.

 

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Building the Dream Library

Construction is going well so far on the Dream Library, a stand-alone structure on a rural, forested property near Portland, Oregon. As many friends and colleagues know, the project has taken a long time to reach this stage, but at last it’s beginning to take actual shape. The building will provide a long-term archive for dream-related materials such as journals, books, and art. The journal & book collections of Jeremy Taylor and Patricia Garfield will form the core of the library, along with other donated materials and my own collections.

To help with future activities involving the library, I have established the Dream Library Foundation. The mission of the Dream Library Foundation is to promote dream research, dream-related art, and public education about dreaming. Everyone has innate potentials for dreaming, so everyone can potentially benefit from the Foundation’s mission. To enact this mission, the Foundation will focus its resources on four areas of activity:

1.    Maintaining a physical archive of dream journals, books, art, and other dream-related materials (the Dream Library);

2.     Maintaining a digital archive of sleep and dream-related information (the Sleep and Dream Database);

3.     Providing funding and support for researchers, artists, and educators working with dreams (Dream Library Grants);

4.     Sponsoring in-person gatherings on dream-related topics (Symposia at the Dream Library).

It’s likely that construction will not finish until summer of 2025. We have much to do between now and then…

 

 

 

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Bizarreness, Nightmares, and Play

The bizarre contents of dreaming can easily seem like the products of mental deficiency. “Children of an idle brain” is what Mercutio calls them in Romeo & Juliet (I.iv.102). Many scientists today essentially agree with Mercutio that the weird absurdities of dreams are evidence of diminished cognitive functioning during sleep.

But what if the “bizarreness” of dreaming is a sign of health and not disorder? What if, in some conditions at least, the increasing weirdness and unpredictability of dream content heralds genuine healing from serious psychological distress?

At the recent annual conference of the International Association for the Study of Dreams, Robert Hoss and Alwin Wagener analyzed a 45-year long series of PTSD nightmares from an American veteran of the Vietnam War. They found that over time, as the veteran healed from his psychological wounds, his nightmares included fewer direct or literal references to wartime violence and more references to other kinds of content, with a rising frequency of metaphorical and symbolic content. In other words, his nightmares gradually became dreamier. Instead of unrelenting graphic repetitions of the traumatizing event, he now experienced dreams involving new characters, settings, scenarios, and emotions.

This fits well with the findings of Harry Wilmer and others that long-term recovery from PTSD corresponds with changes in the frequency and contents of trauma-related nightmares. Wilmer observed that, “the emergence of an ordinary nightmare after prolonged recurrent reliving of the exact trauma in dreams is a healing process… It is the psyche’s attempt at healing.” (1996, 89)

It remains unclear which comes first, the shifts in dreaming or the psychological healing. But their close connection suggests an underlying process by which increasing dreaminess signals a loosening of the trauma’s grip and a return to the natural variability and freedom of dreaming experience.

This process also accords well with the theory that dreaming is a kind of play, the play of the imagination in sleep. Typical PTSD nightmares can be seen as the antithesis of play. Fixed in content and inescapable in their repetition, they are symptoms of an imagination paralyzed by the harsh reality of the trauma. But with time and the support of caring others a more playful spirit returns, bringing a renewed experiential awareness of creative freedom and the capacity to grow in the future.

A key implication for therapists is the value of monitoring changes in nightmare frequency and content as a potentially helpful window into the healing process. Those who already have active practices in play therapy or art therapy may find this insight especially congenial to their efforts, but any therapist who works with trauma can benefit from more attention to the vicissitudes and playful dynamics of dreaming.

 

Note: This post first appeared in Psychology Today on June 14, 2024.

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Dreaming as Play and as Mind-Wandering

The neuroscience of dreams has shifted in recent years toward the idea that dreaming can be conceived as a kind of mind-wandering in sleep. According to current evidence, mind-wandering (also known as day-dreaming, or drifting thought) is a product of the “default mode network,” a system of neural regions that remains active in the absence of external stimulus or focused thought. During sleep this same system of neural regions becomes active, helping to generate the experience of dreaming.

Two recent books by esteemed researchers make this argument about the connection between dreams and mind-wandering: When Brains Dream: Exploring the Science and Mystery of Sleep, by Antonio Zadra & Robert Stickgold, and The Emergence of Dreaming: Mind-Wandering, Embodied Simulation, and the Default Network, by G. William Domhoff. When scientists of the stature of Domhoff, Stickgold, and Zadra reach a common conclusion, it’s worth taking the idea very seriously.

Mind-Wandering and Play

However, the valuable implications of this idea remain obscure when expressed in research terminology. I suggest a more helpful framework is provided by the concept of play. Mind-wandering is, in this view, the mind at play. And dreaming is the play of the mind while asleep. Released from external demands and left to its own devices, whether awake or asleep, the mind becomes active in a more spontaneous, imaginative, emotionally variable, and freely associative mode. If this is not identical to mind-wandering, it at least shares so many core features with play that we should consider the benefits that come from further studying this connection.

The Play of Animals

There is a rich scientific literature on play behaviors in many animal species, all of which can provide dream researchers with valuable evidence, surprising insights, and a stronger grounding in the evolution of our own species. According to comparative zoologists, play in animals is centrally involved in learning and practicing survival-related skills, especially at the younger stages of life and especially for species who live in complex social groups. These features of play correlate very closely with prominent features of dreaming, not excluding the widespread occurrence of terrifying dreams of fear and vulnerability, which seem at first sight to be entirely unplayful. However, the most common form of play in the animal kingdom is play-fighting, which helps to account for the prevalence, and even value, of nightmares in healthy human development. Our fundamentally playful dreams include a great deal of the fighting kinds of play. Although distressing in the short-term, such dreams have the beneficial long-term effect of priming our waking awareness to be vigilant toward similar threats in the waking world.

The Science of Creativity

How does the mind generate novel ideas in art, science, technology, and daily life? Research on mind-wandering is clearly relevant to this important question, insofar as the creative process seems to depend on a moment of unforced openness to serendipity, to a flow of spontaneous images, feelings, and ideas emerging from the unconscious mind. These moments of openness to the unconscious regularly occur in dreaming while asleep, which is why dreams have always been considered a source of creative inspiration.  These moments also occur in playful activities while we are awake, alone or with others, when our focused attention is temporarily suspended and the curious explorations of the wandering mind can yield unexpected insights and discoveries.

Psychotherapeutic Dialogue

The connection between play, dreaming, and mind-wandering has practical relevance for clinicians and caregivers who work in play therapy, art therapy, or any therapeutic approach in which an open dialogue is part of the healing process. Sigmund Freud was one of the first to recognize the therapeutic value of “free association” as a technique of encouraging clients to say whatever spontaneously comes into their minds, as a way of eluding the critical judgment of consciousness and honestly expressing their unconscious feelings. Psychotherapy in this sense has the quality of shared mind-wandering. It creates a safe, playful space in which the clients can, with their therapist as a companion, freely explore questions and conflicts relating to important concerns in their life.

Philosophy

This might sound like more of a stretch, but research on mind-wandering, if slightly reconceived, can also help shift the philosophy of dreaming toward a deeper appreciation for what we experience during dreams. The concept of play is central to Friedrich Schiller’s On the Aesthetic Education of Man (1795), a key text for the early German Romantics which suggested that play enables us to achieve a higher union of the mutually opposing needs of our mind and body, intellect and desire, reason and sensation. “Man plays only when he is a man in the full sense of the word,” Schiller stated, “and he is only a complete man when he plays.” If dreaming is indeed a legitimate form of play, we can draw on the reflections of Schiller and his colleagues to affirm the philosophical significance of both dreaming at night and mind-wandering during the day as paths toward a more fully integrated and actualized sense of self.

 

Note: this post originally appeared in Psychology Today on July 30, 2024

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Freud, Jung, and AI-generated Dream Interpretation

This is a post I recently wrote about the use of artificial intelligence (AI) systems in the practice of dream interpretation.  In coordination with the team at the Elsewhere.to dream journaling app–Dan Kennedy, Gez Quinn, and Sheldon Juncker–we have been experimenting with “Freudian” and “Jungian” modes of interpretation, and the results are very encouraging. Maybe more than encouraging… I don’t highlight this in the post, but the AI interpretation in “Jungian” mode used the phrase “confrontation with the unconscious,” which was not part of the prompting text for the AI. In other words, the AI seems to have identified this phrase as a vital one in Jungian psychology (it’s the title of the pivotal chapter 6 of his memoir Memories, Dreams, Reflections) and, without any direct guidance, used it accurately and appropriately in an interpretation . I might even suspect a sly irony in using this phrase in reference to a dream of Freud’s, but that might be too much…

 

Freud and Jung Sharing Their Dreams: An AI Revival

New technologies are transforming the practice of dream interpretation.

In 1909, on their way by steam ship to give lectures at Clark University in the United States, Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung passed the time by sharing and interpreting each other’s dreams. This was a truly a peak moment in the history of dreaming—yet a fleeting moment, too. Soon afterward, their disagreements about psychoanalytic theory worsened, and they finally broke off all relations with each other.

Ever since, we have been left to wonder… What if these two giants of twentieth-century psychology had continued sharing their dreams? What if, instead of becoming estranged rivals, they had collaborated in developing a meta-method that deployed each of their interpretation systems in a flexible yet integrated practice?

An answer to these questions is suddenly coming into focus, thanks to emerging uses of artificial intelligence (AI) in the study of dreams. It is now possible for a carefully trained AI system to generate distinctly Freudian and Jungian interpretations of a dream. We can thus revive the spirit of their epic 1909 dream-sharing journey by offering one of their (already-published) dreams for interpretation by the other and reflecting on the interplay of their dual perspectives.

Freud would likely be curious about the dream Jung reports in chapter 5 of Memories, Dreams, Reflections, which occurred just before their falling out. Set in a bustling Italian city, the dream centers on the anomalous presence of a medieval knight. Jung is shocked at the sight–“suddenly to see in a modern city, during the noonday rush hour, a crusader coming toward me”—especially because Jung realizes only he can see the knight, who is invisible to everyone else. Jung said the dream anticipated his turn away from Freud and towards a more meaningful search for higher truths, comparable to the Grail Quest.

How might Freud interpret this dream? Using an AI system crafted with the developers at the Elsewhere dream journaling app, where I am an unpaid research advisor, we can apply a “Freudian mode” of interpretation to Jung’s dream. I will quote the first and last few sentences of the AI response:

“The dreamer’s description of a knight in full armor walking through an Italian city suggests a possible egocentric wish. The knight, a figure associated with power, honor, and bravery, might symbolize the dreamer’s desire for recognition and admiration. The fact that the knight is visible only to the dreamer could indicate a feeling of uniqueness or a wish to stand out from the crowd… This dream seems to primarily reflect the dreamer’s egocentric wishes and possibly repressed sexual and aggressive desires. The dreamer might be yearning for recognition and admiration, while also grappling with fears of being overlooked or ignored. The knight in armor could symbolize these conflicting desires and fears.”

This may not be the most profound reading of the dream, but it is easily recognizable as a Freudian approach, with clear connections to psychoanalytic theory. It also happens to be consistent with biographical information about Freud’s view of Jung after the split—as a grandiose savior bent on turning psychology into religion.

Jung, in turn, might want to explore a vivid childhood nightmare that Freud mentions off-handedly near the end of The Interpretation of Dreams. It’s a short dream of his mother, “with a peculiarly peaceful, sleeping expression on her features, being carried into the room by two (or three) people with birds’ beaks and laid upon the bed. I awoke in tears and screaming.”  The bird figures referred to strange illustrations from an old family Bible. Freud offers the dream as a self-evident example of an anxiety dream rooted in a sexual wish (i.e., an Oedipal desire for the mother).

How might Jung have interpreted this dream? Using the same AI system in its “Jungian mode,” the interpretation begins like this:

“The dream presents a potent mix of archetypal and personal symbols that indicate a deep process of transformation and individuation occurring within the dreamer’s psyche. The image of the mother, a universal symbol of nurturing, care, and life itself, is presented in a peaceful, sleeping state. This suggests that some aspect of the dreamer’s relationship with the nurturing, caring part of their psyche is in a dormant or inactive state.”

The interpretation goes on to highlight the religious symbolism of birds:

“Birds are often symbols of spiritual messengers or intermediaries between the earthly and the divine. In the Bible, they can represent both divine providence and impending doom.”

And it offers surprisingly sensitive words of encouragement to endure the inevitable struggles of psychological growth:

“The dreamer’s intense emotional reaction upon awakening – tears and screaming – indicates that this transformation is not easy or painless. It’s a significant upheaval, a profound shift in the dreamer’s self-concept and understanding of their place in the world. But this upheaval, this confrontation with the unconscious, is a necessary part of the individuation process. It’s through such confrontations that we come to know ourselves more fully, to integrate the disparate aspects of our psyche into a more cohesive, more authentic whole.”

This AI-generated interpretation can be readily identified as a Jungian approach and a plausible application of his theory to Freud’s dream. Moreover, it accords with what we know of Jung’s post-split view of Freud—that he never found a way to integrate the aggressive authority of the father with the intuitive wisdom of the mother.

The significance here is not just revealing alternate perspectives on these two dreams and their famous dreamers. This little experiment with Freud and Jung is like a horseless carriage, using a new technology to solve old problems. What will happen when these tools are applied to new problems, when they are used by a wide range of people to explore currently unknown opportunities? What new models of the mind and practices of healing will emerge? What new theories of art, culture, religion, and social change will appear on the horizon?

Maybe it’s time to start developing a “Prophetic mode”…

 

Note: Originally posted in Psychology Today, February 8, 2024.

 

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New Dream Posts from Psychology Today

Here are the recent posts I have written for Psychology Today, going back to the middle of last summer. Although each one is written as a stand-alone discussion of a special topic in dreaming, I now realize they also form a series of interrelated texts, like the chapters of a book I didn’t consciously know I was writing….