Door
Free Association
12-03-2003
Years ago, when I was 20, I entered the door for the fist time. Inside a big hourglass, on top of the constriction in the middle, the little beads are red, and from the moment they got through, there color turns to green.
Sticking around, or falling through. I had a strong feeling of being stopped by something, from outside or from within my inner self. The door was closed. What possibly can you do when you are a young man, still in the warmth of the nest, if there is nobody to kick the baby out of the house, or worse, if mom has tears twinkling in her gloomy eyes in the idea that her son thinks about frequenting other folks, and worst, if dad hasn't the guts to break through this situation. By other folks I mean something like university or so.
Reading books of course. Stories of saints and things about mysticism, until the very devil found me, and there was only Librium to bring salvation. Revolting and reading about psychology, and then focusing on psychoanalysis, and next decide to become a biologist, and having a future again. Signal to green.
It did not work of course, because of no permission. Really I should have chosen to become a psychotherapist, but, even if I had plenty of interest for dreaming, it never came into my mind, not even in the worst of my dreams, to aim for the realization of it. Out of the question, then. Now I am a psychotherapist for more than twenty years. Very amazing.
Yet old memories are hanging around. The bottleneck between my head and my body is still there, although it feels no longer like a strangulation. It looks as if the hourglass is behind bars, a door in jail. It is my wish to open the door as far as possible, to free the words.
Dream
17-03-2003
Dream of the night: an archeological X-ray shows a head, upside down, in a cleft. It is apparently stuck. A probe with gripper is pulled out of the shaft, and it holds a tuft of grassy hair, with brown soil. The doctor says that the next time no more pieces should be pulled out of the body itself.
A man is stuck in a cleft, and a rescue team lowers an other man, head first and with some ropes in his hand. The rescuer is specially dressed in strong gray nylon. The jammed man says: "Fortunately I only got stuck". Yet the atmosphere in the dream, and the feeling, predict a hard rescue, if at all feasible.
