The blind dancer is broken

The blind dancer is broken ~ a dream

Sometimes dreams give us clues about our inner world in ways that are both revealing and concealing. The last week or two I have been finding it very difficult to navigate my way through the world, and feel I have lost connection with things that have been important to me and my life force feels depleted and I feel direction-less. I’m working my way through a book on Jungian dream interpretation and after I started reading it, for the first time in a while a dream occurred that feels significant in understanding what is going on. I’m going to share it here; if you have any insights on this they would be welcome as I am hoping to clarify my own thoughts and often my friends here have been excellent at doing just that.

The first part of the dream is confused. I am trying to find my way through a city that feels hostile, as if either a riot has been happening or is close to happening, or one that has been at war. The streets are narrow and steep but more or less deserted. It’s dark, night time and a few places have lights on. I go into one place, on the side of a square, from which a narrow lane goes down steeply enough to need steps. It feels a little like the Mont Martre area of Paris. The place is a restaurant, but looks wrecked and no one is eating there. A waiter comes over, but he doesn’t want to take an order. He’s trying to find his daughter, to connect to her on Facebook but though I try to explain to him how to find her, my communications don’t seem to work. I give up trying to explain as we seem to have not so much a problem of language but of intelligence.

The dream shifts and I am in my study. I have walked in to see that the smaller of my two desks, the one used solely for writing by hand and for drawing has been messed up. Items are scattered over it and I notice that the statue I treasure has been knocked over; the head seems to be missing, there’s water close to it as if spilled, and there is a flex like that of a lamp attached to it (the real statue is one I bought in 2003, shortly after moving to the Midlands but before I began writing again. It’s an interpretation of the Oracle at Delphi, about 18 inches or so high, of fired clay, glazed in several colours and textures, and shows a seated, veiled woman, eyes downcast looking into a bowl she is holding on her lap. The bowl can hold a candle. I bought the statue as a symbol of listening to my inner consciousness and trying to heed what might come from dreams and visions. It’s never been a public ornament downstairs and has always been either in my study or my bedroom. It was quite expensive (for me) and is one of a kind as though the range is still on sale, each item was unique and this one is no longer made) I am crestfallen and upset that this precious thing might be broken or damaged, and rush forward to look more closely. As I get closer I see that this is a different statue entirely. It depicts a dancer, in a pose, one arm outstretched, standing on one leg (this probably has a term but I don’t know it). The statue is in the same coloured glazes and washes as mine (dark green, light green, yellow, and pure gold) but it’s very different and not one that in real life would ever appeal to me at all as it has a fragile appearance and depicts a style of feminine grace I’ve never aspired to or valued). I look closer for damage and see that there is a chip off the chin; there are fragments of porcelain around and I wonder if it can be fixed back. Then I see that a whole strip of glaze has been knocked from the face, right across the eyes so that the dancer is now blind. I am searching for the broken fragments to mend the statue when I wake.

DSCI1181

Advertisements

9 thoughts on “The blind dancer is broken

  1. The dancer reminds me of the beginnin of a poem by Rumi …

    “Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free … ”

    The Essential Rumi,
    translated by Coleman Barks with John Moyne

  2. If it were my dream I would understand the dream is telling me about my confused state which I can’t understand at present. The help given by drawing your attention is the dancer (femininity? activity/ movement?). Her head is not broken but she cannot see, just needs to dance instinctively and take it on the chin. Perhaps her difficulty was caused by emotions (water) or nerves (electric flex). Trying to find the broken fragments might be seeking wholeness again (balance the mental/ receptive with the physical/ active)?
    All this is if it were my dream. Your understanding might be quite different depending on the associations you have with the various sign posts. All dreams present themselves for healing
    and I wish you well.

  3. I start with a caution- on the validity of any suggestions. Dreams are delicate things to wade into, and I will, no doubt, impose my weight upon it, as well as the little I know about you. With that in mind here are some observations. It seems a ‘summary’ story taking you from where you are to the options that you might be considering. It starts in a threatening or ‘hostile’ darkness where the inhabitants are invisible, the paths narrow and leading downwards. You find a restaurant that serves no food, a waiter that does not ‘wait’ but instead asks some social media intervention for himself. No joy there.

    You return to your sanctuary, but find your most immediate creative desk a mess. Instead of your Delphic Oracle (which appears broken and was bought to remind you to heed your inner dreams and inspiration) you find a performing statue instead, ‘in a pose’, a posture. She has taken it on the ‘chin’ and been blinded but masquerades in the colours of the original. I think I should probably stop before I tie it all in a bow!

  4. I don’t know how to interpret other people’s dreams, but I would ask for your associations, slow it down, allow the psyche to experience the physical images and spaces of the dream. I’m highly influenced by Robert Bosnak’s dream work and his use of sensation as another way in to the images. In the statue, I notice how the feet feel somewhat disconnected from body and from earth, at least in the photo I see. If we were having tea, I’d ask you about that fragile feminine grace, damaged vision, and other strong images–and you’d have plenty to say. This dream begs to be drawn.

  5. I am no expert on dreams Viv, but I can relate to parts of this. The eternal process of the natural cycle of life….breaking apart and coming together, over and over again. And how you view each really depends on the day. Often the same event can look worse than it is, depending on how you view the world at that particular moment in time.

    • Breaking apart is a good analysis, perhaps even from our values and preconceptions, to pirouette on tippy toe? Worth a try? Dreams do tend to position themselves at the interface between past and future. Servingothersblog gave me much new thought. About you and myself! Maybe we should hold a dream market auction?

  6. What an interesting dream. I have no insights to add. The inner and the outer, as said, seems to be the focus. I’m feeling at 6’s and 9’s, myself, yet I dreamed I was hosting Prince Harry who was telling me a funny story. I don’t know where that came from!
    (ツ) from Cottage Country Ontario , ON, Canada!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s