Ohhhhhhhhh! I still cannot shake off a bizarre dream I had last night about a baby; usually by lunchtime I have forgotten all about wierd dreams.
I love to dream about babies. I love babies, for sure, but I love the significance of dreaming about babies for usually it is a happy portent: something blossoming beautiful deep within your inner Self.
So this dream I had last night: I was working back in my old office (a place which has been popping up quite often recently in my glorious technicolour nightfilms, despite having left there 5 years ago now). I was upset to find that our offices had changed, they were openplan and soul-less, with not enough chairs or computers for the team and each morning a new issue presented itself. We had a new team member join us, a young curly-haired blonde girl. She fainted and I went hurtling off for water; this journey took me an age, as it seemed as if our office was based in this huge hotel which had so many busy coffee bars and restaurants but none had any cups of water to give me.
(c) Anne Geddes[/caption]
Eventually I made my way back, feeling exhausted after searching for such a long time at a high energy pace: she was no longer there. She had disappeared; but in her place was her baby boy, who was about 8 months old. Dribbling like crazy, this baby looked so wise and held my gaze. I checked in the changing bag and there was one bottle of milk and 3 nappies, plus a change of clothes. I had a very strong feeling come over me, that of neglect, and before I knew it I was pushing the pushchair at full pelt, racing down the road to a large Boots chemists who were upset to tell me they had no baby milk suitable for this baby. It was a special enzyme milk and had to be specially ordered; as I was not the mother, they could not help me. I remember feeling desperate, full of panic, that I had to feed this baby who was now my responsibility. Was the baby weaned? No, this baby was totally dependent on me for sustenance in the form of milk. I remember thinking how strange it was that this large, placid baby was not yelling for milk or eager to be weaned.
I tried to find baby rice, thinking I could mix it with coconut milk, but I was unable to find this in Boots either. I went to Waitrose. No luck there either.
In a mad panic, I raced with the pushchair to his mummy’s house: it was pouring with rain but it was warm rain, very humid. I managed to get in to the apartment she shared with a friend and I found shelves upon shelves of baby clothes, in all different colours and all different sizes. But none of this special enzyme milk was there. No baby rice.
Help! I remember feeling breathless with panic, how could I support this little baby who needed me to survive?
Thankfully a male friend turned up at the door, as if by magic, and said that they had just received a delivery of goods to a secret place. He took me to this secret place and there were boxes and boxes of baby milk, hidden from view, amongst a tonne of clothes. The relief was overwhelming.
The feeling that it had taken me all day and all evening to get this far was overwhelming, yet the baby still gazed up at me with interested eyes, seemingly unmoved by my hysteria or a need to feed. This struck as the oddest thing about my dream: this baby should have been starving, yet never complained. How could a neglected child be content?
Then I woke up …
Now I have had a few hours to reflect on this bizarre dream, I have an inkling that this is to do with dramatic changes I wish to make in my business-life but, as per usual, I have been hedging my bets, dragging my heels.
I understand that to dream of babies is classically taken as a symbolic of new beginnings and innocence; perhaps something in our own inner natures that is pure and vulnerable. So what of this dream of a baby that should have been starving, yet gazed at me in wonderment? Is it that I feel dependent on others yet am fully capable of taking my destiny, my creative ideas, into my own hands? I also find the 8 month old baby quite intriguing, for it is 7 months ago now that I completed cancer treatment, from where my new creative business ideas bloomed during that quiet-time of healing.
Interestingly, a resources shares from Jeremy Taylor (1996) that:
This classic dream usually comes to people who lead productive, responsible lives. It is all the more upsetting or distressing for precisely that reason. In most instances the neglected baby is the Jungian archetype of the divine child. The infant represents aspects of the dreamer’s self that are neglected or ill-defined. It might seem funny to write in our waking-life appointment book “reserve time for self-exploration,” but, in order to be healthy and whole, that is exactly what we have to do. (Even if it looks like the height of laziness or irresponsibility from the point of view of the waking ego, which is driven to make the most of every precious moment.) This dream informs you that ignoring one’s deepest spiritual needs and desires is the truly irresponsible activity – as irresponsible as agreeing to look after a baby, and then forgetting about it.
OK, so I think I get it. I need to stick to my guns and make time for birthing my creative dreams: stop putting everyone else’s needs before my own Inner Child’s. Stop worrying needlessly about taking care of everyone else’s business-babies and take care to nurture and make time to breathe for my own business-babies-dreams! The fact there are so many colours (of baby clothes) feels, to me, representative of the different strands within me and my business dreams, and that it is perfectly fine to have so many interchangeable outfits. I have no need to specify whether I am a boy or a girl – I can just allow myself, and my business dreams, to be what we really are. No tags, no labels, no judgments. Hurrah!
The time is now … oh boy. How exciting!
I would love to know if you have a different interpretation of my baby dream, or if you have recently had baby dreams of your own that have left you feeling a little unruffled or unsure of how to interpret it! Please kindly leave your comments below …