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a dream preceded yesterday’s poem

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communionLast night I dreamt standing in a church, all rows filled with worshipers. Noticing a commotion, I turn to see a bishop (dressed casually without robes and miter) beckening me to step out of the row. He invites me to assist with the distribution of the consecrated wine and bread.

Next I’m sitting outside, on an old kitchen chair, in the centre of a vast town square, wearing nothing more than an apron. Not a chef’s apron of my teenage apprenticeship (and previous dreams), but a frilly garnment of the kind worn by the mothers of my childhood. Only two people share the empty piazza with me: a tiny man and woman, dressed in ethnic costumes. We look at each other, but neither speak nor come near.

custardRealizing that I’m needed in the cathedral, I rush back, discarding the apron en route. The congregation is standing in anticipation of holy communion; a line of helpers already receiving theirs. Walking quickly to the front, ready to apologize for being late, I’m greeted by a smiling bishop, now in formal robes. Taking me aside, he directs me to fix what appears to be curdled vanilla custard dished out on a row of plates. Using first a fork and then a wire whisk, I work with confidence to restore the sweet sauce to its proper consistency.

I wake up and look for the poem (posted yesterday).

Dreams are impartial, spontaneous products of the unconscious psyche, outside the control of the will. They are pure nature; they show us the unvarnished, natural truth, and are therefore fitted, as nothing else is, to give us back an attitude that accords with our basic human nature when our consciousness has strayed too far from its foundations and run into an impasse.

~
Jung, C.G. (1933). The meaning of psychology for modern man. In Collected Works 10: Civilization in transition, p. 317.

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