Nightmare

I had an awful nightmare a few nights ago.

Let me back up for a minute. I just finished reading Jung to Live By, by Eugene Pascal. It’s a guide to the theories of Carl Jung. Jungian psychology is enlightening, and if you are not familiar with it, I recommend the book. If you have studied Jung, then you know that he believed that dreams are valuable windows into our psyches.

Jung actually advised against dream interpretation, so perhaps I’m way off base here. It’s also more than likely that my dream arose not out of my psychic unconscious, but rather from watching too many episodes of Breaking Bad. It’s possible.

So, in the dream Mark was trying to bomb the nursery wing of a hospital. And I was helping him. No, I had to help him. He couldn’t do it without me. There were certain things that were my responsibility. I remember hiding evidence in a backpack. I did not want any part of it. Somehow I felt responsible for making him want to bomb the nursery, and I also hated him for doing it. I knew that we would be caught, and that whatever his reason for doing it, the outcome wouldn’t be worth it.

I know that Mark would never bomb anything, let alone a hospital nursery. But that dream shook me deeply. I awoke shaking, scared, and needing to be held. For days since, the dream has returned to me dark and strangely meaningful.

Jung taught that we all have a dark, shadow side. Some of us accept that part of ourselves. Some of us hide it. Some of us never know it at all.

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