Will I see you later on?

For a while I have been paying attention to the recurring symbols in my dreams.

Recent interpretation has indicated to me how much they revolve around transition, confinement, hiding, and being trapped.

Common themes all suggest to me my feeling of needing to hide my true self from others, the problems I experience in relating to others, of always being on edge in case something terrible should come out.

My concern is, if I don’t break through this, I will be stuck with these same dream images forever. Even if I begin to utilise certain practice, perhaps to experience the hypnagogic state for example, will I ever get past the symbols of confinement? What if I am missing out on so much because I have yet managed to break out of my shell?

Using Jungian concepts more and more to try and understand why my dreams are stuck on these images and whether there might (might!) be a change coming. I’m evening considering entering Jungian Analysis. I think it would be fascinating. I am unsure at this point as I feel like I just need to be held and secure. Analysis might be too confronting at this stage, I don’t know.

My animus appears to me often, usually as one person, someone I know in real life. Currently he is S, who is tall, dark and handsome, as well as reserved, aloof, inaccessible. In my dreams I long to be close to him.

In the last week I have seen my animus in different forms – one man I know of (H) but not personally, and one man I did not recognise from waking life (W). For other men to appear is unusual as S has dominated for a year or more now, appearing most nights.

H is an intellectual, someone with whom I would love to have a discussion if I only believed I might have anything to contribute, and the ability to deliver it. Like S, he is tall, dark, handsome, and inaccessible in his intellect and the fact I don’t know him personally. Only W offered closeness but I was apprehensive as didn’t know him that well.

According to Jung the Animus has multiplicity and represents masculine aspects of the psyche that are trying to integrate. I am encouraged by this multiplicity. It could be signifying a change.

One thing from a recent dream is particularly intriguing.

Dream 16th July 2024

Going out for a work do, getting changed in front of two people I don’t know – one man, one woman. The feeling is friendly and I don’t know much else about them. I try on a white dress that turns out to be lingerie. Embarrassed, I try another and another but I’m running out of time. I go for a green dress. I use the bathroom before going out but there is menstrual blood on the toilet rim and in the sink. I am afraid people will think it’s mine.

We get on a minibus to the pub. S is there along with a lady from work (another regular feature, one I am not ready to look at yet). She asks me if I can name characters from the Twelfth Night, and what I think about The X Files as a show. I don’t know much about Twelfth Night so I focus on The X Files and how I admired Dana Scully growing up. She and S don’t pay any attention. They don’t seem to care.

Off the mini bus and into the pub, which has three bar areas. I want a G&T but no one is serving me. I get annoyed at the bar staff, try a different bar. The staff all stop serving to change barrels and optics and to deal with leaks down the wall. I have been there 45 mins and yet to be served. I begin to shout at them that I have been there an hour while thinking it’s more like 45 mins.

Symbols and meaning:

Bathrooms – ‘come clean’, ‘release’ something, face the truth, transition.
Menstrual blood – creating, loss, renewal, letting go, transition.
Pub – a place to relax, alcohol helps to be myself.

Brief interpretation: I need to let something go but I can’t, the bathroom already a mess so I can’t use it. And I can’t get a drink at the bar. Other people can let go and express themselves, why can’t I? I result to shouting, I am angry.

What’s intriguing is the Twelfth Night refence. The day before the dream I would not have been able to tell you the plot or characters of this play, a play about a woman pretending to be a man, its themes of sexuality, gender and attraction, at a time when I am exploring the Animus in my dreams and experiencing recurring symbols of transition and hiding, love, longing and acceptance. Knowledge of the play must have been in my mind somewhere, but I find it fascinating that it popped up like that in my dream, and so clearly. The X Files reference is easier to explain – I recall seeing something about it online the evening before.  

I wish I had more time for exploration.  My dreams come thick and fast, it is difficult to keep up and find the time!

Play Shadow, Leonora Carrington

I began to pay increased attention a few weeks ago when declaring myself an artist with a day job. I wanted to access dreams as material for painting inspiration. I’m concerned that my symbols have changed very little over the last few years, which is why I am excited by the appearance my Animus in different forms.

I am worried that I am stuck and these images might change only I could unstick myself. I can’t help but think I am missing out on richer images and a broader landscape if only I could get out of my default feelings of isolation and self- hate and insecurity, something indicated in a recent dream:

Dream 15th July 2024

W was with me under the covers of H’s bed. I remember the closeness as well as envy that he was talking to S and I wasn’t. On surfacing from the bed I kissed W, expecting him to pull away. But he reciprocated. Next we were looking out the window into an expanse of hills and wilderness. He wrapped his arms around me and told me he was going to take me on an adventure for a couple of days. I was excited but nervous, almost wanting to ask him his credentials for taking me into the wilderness and keeping me safe. Would we get lost? There were woods to the left of the window and he said he didn’t like that area, that it was creepy and dangerous. There was a moment where he teased me when I asked about campsites we would stay at and he said that campsites weren’t allowed.

Next, I am outside with W and others, heading for a funfair. It’s a sunny warm day and I’m wearing a t-shirt. Suddenly I am preoccupied with where my hoodie is – where did I leave it? I can’t relax so I head back to the hotel just to check where it is. I head towards the stairs and run into someone from work. She’s  heading to the lift and I decide to follow. The lift is the size of a small cupboard, very old. As the door slowly closes I regret my decision to use the lift and I’m afraid. We should be moving up but I don’t feel anything.

I was out in the sun, heading for a funfair, and I ended in an old lift to check on a hoodie I didn’t need.

Brief interpretation: continuing to go back for the baggage and unavailable will keep me stuck. There’s a landscape out there I want to see. Perhaps I need help to go there.

I nearly didn’t write any of this as I was laid low for a couple of hours due due to the flare up of ‘I am terrible and people hate me’ feelings. I felt I would never move again, that I could never focus again. Fuck those feelings! My time is my own and who are those people anyway? Imagine this material going unexamined because of such a thing. I could be missing out on so much in my dreams as well as in waking life.

Being around people is always so painful for me. Being without them is terribly lonely. And I’m getting tired of S and the lady from the minibus featuring so regularly in my dreams.

MK Lit Fest – Dreams for Lammas

I have been invited to read my poem, Pearl Harvest, at this online event on Thursday 1st August.

https://www.mklitfest.org/dreams-for-lammas-for-writers

I spent 2-3 months trying to write a poem for this event and getting absolutely nowhere. Since my grandad passed away I have not felt much like writing and my efforts were therefore half-hearted at best.

A couple of weeks before the submission deadline I remember taking a nap and at the point of drifting off it suddenly occurred to me: I already had a poem that would fit the theme! That would have to do as clearly I was getting nowhere. So I am surprised that it has been selected and really quite delighted as I like the poem and look forward to reading it.

Only problem is I will be camping in Norfolk on 1st August! The campsite has WiFi which I hope will enable me to participate successfully.

Speaking of camping, I am soooo excited for it. We didn’t camp last year. Earlier this year I went to New York for my niece’s 21st birthday, which was fab but not at all relaxing. Camping and plenty of outdoor time is very much required, my soul is yearning for the smell of the tent, the early morning damp, sitting outside with a coffee and warming up with the sun, sitting outside with a wine or cider while the sun sets and bats fly about. A few days of no phone, plenty of walks and reading, and just being. Just looking and listening and thinking. And just being outside!

with an online poetry reading thrown in on this occasion. How exciting!

I’m an artist with a day job – what have I been waiting for?

For some time now I’ve wanted to call myself an artist. I guess many artists struggle with the ‘when can I legitimately call myself this’ question. Typically I’ve been waiting some some external sign of success and, let’s be honest, that could be a lifelong wait or never happen at all. So, I needed to decide to call myself an artist, a decision precipitated by needing to make another tough decision.

I began training to become a counsellor in 2019. After a break I decided to apply to the CPCAB Level 4 Diploma in Psychotherapeutic Counselling course.

Yesterday I was offered a place. Today I declined the offer. And of course I needed to justify this decision and then some, by declaring ‘I am an artist with a day job’.

I have loved the training for the self-development and increased awareness of diversity and privileges. To continue the training for the self-development and self-expression is not enough of a reason for spending the amount of time and money required to complete the diploma. I need to really want to be a counsellor to commit. And the training needs people who are determined to work as counsellors at the end.

This was a difficult decision to make and I’m sure tomorrow I will experience some kind of difficult-decision hangover. The thing that swung it for me was this:

Within my mind/body/brain whatever, with previous training and considering working as a counsellor, I always felt that something was ‘off’. I’ve had this feeling before. I always thought it was imposter syndrome and therefore something I needed to get over.

But what if it’s not imposter syndrome?

What if it’s a sign that I’m doing … not the wrong thing, but …

well, yeah, the wrong thing.

Because to be quite honest, for a long time I have been tired of feeling not good enough at what I’m doing and the dissonance that comes with constantly hearing ‘you’re capable, you’re doing fine!’

If I’m doing fine, what won’t this feeling go away? If I really am capable then why do I feel like I am failing at everything I try?

What if it’s not imposter syndrome? What if it’s true authentic desire trying to push through all my left-brain ‘shoulds’ and interpreted as a ‘you are wrong’ statement – not ‘you are wrong’ in what you are pursuing, but perceived as ‘you are wrong’ as in imposter syndrome. Try harder, know more, do better and you will overcome this.

With art and writing, I often think my creations are not very good and I can pick them apart easily. But this feeling is not the same as the one I have just described above, the ‘imposter syndrome’ feeling. Currently reading ‘The Master and His Emissary’ by Iain McGilchrist, I have used his ideas of the effect of hemispheric asymmetry to thin about this further: Could this left-brain ‘picking apart’ be the real imposter syndrome? I’ve yet to meet an artist that doesn’t generally hate everything they’ve created and yet continue to put themselves through it. This over-critical eye isn’t a sign that I shouldn’t be creating art.

There’s a flip in the feelings: with counselling, a belief I’m just not that good (‘imposter syndrome’) but objectively I am fine and will make a success of the studies. With creating, a belief I am good and objectively I can improve. This ‘flip’ image came to me as I am reading McGilchrist:

“The normal brain appears to have been twisted about its central axis … The brain is not only wider on the left towards the back, but also wider on the right towards the front; as well as extending further back on the left, even a little under the right hemisphere, it extends further forward on the right, even a little overlapping the left”. [1]

I did not know this and I think it is immensely fascinating. I need to finish this book.

Anyway, it got me thinking about this decision I made.

Option 1
Left brain knows I would be successful in counselling training. Society days ‘you are successful’.
Right brain knows I wouldn’t be satisfied. (and would make it known through that niggle of ‘imposter syndrome’). Society says ‘that’s life’

Option 2
Left brain sees problems with my art.
Right brain sees potential.

To which should I pay attention? 1 or 2? Right or left – Buoyant belief or objective anchoring? If I choose buoyancy, why would I choose the less buoyant of option 1 – the one that’s supported by external buoyancy of left brain – you’ve passed, society says well done you?

If I choose the buoyancy of 2, it has seemed to me to bring an internal buoyancy that needs to external life jacket.

This seems like a novel way of making a decision and yet in itself it feels buoyant.

I want to write and paint and create. I feel capable of unlocking inner creativity and I want the time and energy to let that come. I feel I am barely getting started. 2 years of counsellor training would put that on hold. Sure, it wouldn’t be forever, but all that for lukewarm feelings about a career in counselling. I’ve barely begun to walk in my own shoes, let alone learning to walk in others’. I want to wear them properly and walk in them some more.

And this is the issue – this is selfish and arrogant of me, isn’t it? Thinking about myself rather than training to be there for others. Art is all about self expression. There is a freedom there that is difficult to justify sometimes against the things that western societies value.

It’s not that I don’t want to help people. I have to believe that in following my authentic self I will be of more help to others – my immediate relationships as well as through some kind of dissipation at large. Sometimes the only solace I find is in the pile of unread books I own and the thought of getting to read them.

Also helping doesn’t’ have to be formalised, trained, assessed. There are many ways of helping others …

See how I’m in to left brain justifications now.

It’s difficult talking in such a loose woolly way after so many years in the sciences. Perhaps I can learn to embrace creative writing and leave the science to others.

Enough.

I’ve decided:

I’m an artist with a day job. I am here to connect with other artists, whether writing, painting or anything creative, particularly those with a day job, to encourage and share the journey, tips and tricks for staying motivated against general afterwork tiredness and the pull of instant gratification.

References:

[1] McGilchrist, I., The Master and His Emmissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. 2019. p23.

Witness to the Fire – Creativity and the Veil of Addiction. Book by Linda Schierse Leonard

Chapter 1: The Hostage

“Many creative artist see this struggle – the call to live in the tension betweeen good and evil and to bear witness to the good – as the challenge of human existence, and the meaning art bears is to reveal this universal struggle.”

“To distinguish between these two possibilities – the creative and the destructive – Rollo May refers to teh way a person related to the daimon. The person who inegrated the daimon, thereby becoming more whole, has as tate of being that Rollo May calls the eudaimonic. This is the way of the creative person: an ever-deepening and broadening process whwereby one becomes more whole and centred in one’s being. In contrast, in the dysdaimonic state of being, the person becomes possessed, monomaniacal, and fanatical to the point where all life is reduced to that person’s ever narrowing ego power drive.”

“Using the above distinction, addiction leads to dysdaimonic possession because it reduced the person’s wholeness to a monomaniacal obsession. But the same energy that serves addiction can be transformed into creative fire. The addict, in his very experience of the daimonic and the way it can destroy, can learn the supreme necessity of transforming that energy in the service of something higher“. (italics my own)

Having come through my own ‘night sea journey’ of the Romantic idea of complete merger with a magical other, the necessity of transforming meant to continue to exist. The result of being able to harness this creative force in another direction – away from projection onto external others – led to my painting and writing poetry, two things before which I did not practice. These activities have given such light and such inner shielding, I believe it would be impossible to slip back into the dysdaimonic entirely. Occasionally the pull is there, and the pull is strong. The glow of creating is stronger and I would not give that up for anything. I feel so greatful for this gift, and the gift of this insight. I feel I have a choice – I could go back any time but I know the pain and isolation in the pit, I know the years of work it took to get to where I am now, and I know the GLOW of writing poetry and creating artwork.

Chaper 4: The Romantic

“… the restlessness and longing of the Romanitic, if genuinely understood, is like the mystic’s quest to be aflame with the fire of divine love. If the Romantic can ensure this fire and bring the mystical vision back to earth by embodying it in creative life, then the addictive quality of the romance can be transformed into a creative gift.”

Tension

Grandad

Keith William Bell, passed away 21st March 2024.

Father, Founder, and Chairman of K W Bell Group.

Keith started as a coal-miner in The Forest of Dean. Eagar to learn every aspect of the building trade and starting with one gang of bricklayers, he grew the company over 20 years when he established the housing division of KW Bell &Son, Bell Homes. Since then the company has grown to include Bell Contracting, Bell Plant and The Belfry Hotel. The company is also an investor in the AccXel construction school and a top 100 company in Gloucestershire, a leader in innovation as well as community support.

I’m incredibly proud to be his granddaughter.

RIP grandad xxx

https://keithwilliambell.muchloved.com

The Piano Teacher, by Elfriede Jelinek

What an incredible exploration of psyche in literary form. Astonishing, disturbing.

“Feelings are always ridiculous, especially when unauthorized people get their hands on them.”

“Art and order, the relatives that refuse to relate.”

“She believes that one should not kowtow to fashion: instead, fashion should kowtow to what looks good on you and what doesn’t.”

“Dismayed, Erika pictures herself as a numb hole, six feet of space, disintegrating in the earth. The hole that she despised and neglected has now taken full possession of her. She is nothing. And there is nothing left for her.”

“He now senses what it means to introduce the uncertainty factor of someone else’s self into his own intricate game.”

and just to lighten the mood:

“Maybe that’ll put an end to her awful flutiness.” 😂