1. THE CRY OF THE BABY

The following is the dream of a 55-year old woman shortly after leaving a job she had held for many years:

I dreamed that I was at work and someone called me into the outer office. There was a baby carriage in the office, the same one I used for my own children. In the carriage, lying on her stomach, was a baby girl. She was covered in a pink blanket and was crying her eyes out. When I saw her I was horrified because I realized that I was supposed to be watching her. I had forgotten all about her and couldn't hear her crying over all the noise in the office. I picked her up and held her close to my chest. She snuggled in and became quiet. She looked up at me with big, sad eyes – not judging, not angry – but eyes that said "I've been waiting for you. I'm glad you're finally here." She kept putting her foot out of the blanket, trying to wriggle out. I removed the blanket while still holding her. She was thin and her skin was dark, as if she had been badly sunburned. She looked so sad, but so happy to see me.

I knew I had to leave and get her help. I had no doubt about that. I got in a cab with several other people and asked to go to a drug store on Montague St. in Brooklyn Heights. I got out of the cab in front of the place, but the store I knew was no longer there. I held the baby close and began to walk in search of the store. I began to get confused and not sure what neighborhood I was in anymore. I stopped and asked a woman for directions to Montague Street. She told me I was walking in the wrong direction but she couldn't really tell me how to get there. I then woke up.

Commentary on the Dream (HRM)

Mid-life is a time of transition when parts of ourself cry out to be acknowledged so that growth can occur. In this dream, the dreamer encounters a crying baby, who represents her inner self, calling for recognition. The dreamer is at work, caught up in the demands of the job, so busy that "I was horrified because I realized that I was supposed to be watching her." In the first half of life the demands of the outer self (persona) take precedence over the undeveloped parts of ourselves. The inner self retains its potential, crying out to us while we cannot hear that cry because of outer demands ("the noise of the office"). All along we are supposed to watching a deeper part of ourselves that has been neglected.

In this dream the baby is a numinous figure-- like the transcendent Witness of Buddhist psychology-- not judging, simply observing. Yet the baby is more than a detached Witness: she is a powerful force, always waiting for the dreamer to arrive and glad when she does. This "baby" in ourselves is beyond joy and sorrow, a level of transpersonal awareness that demands to be heard. The baby is waiting for nurturance, which comes when the dreamer picks her up and holds her close until the baby becomes quiet. But then the baby becomes active again, putting her foot out of blanket, trying to wriggle out of the strait-jacket, just as the dreamer may need to do after leaving the job of many years. During the first half of life we expend energy in building up a self that may confine us, so that we neglect the "still, small voice" within.

Yet holding the baby close is not the dreamer's only response. She feels she must get help for this mysterious infant. But why? The baby isn't in distress, yet the dreamer's response is unequivocal: "I knew I had to leave and get her help. I had no doubt about that." The action we need to take in the second half of life often reflects this kind of certainty: I have to get out of this relationship, I have to move somewhere else, I have do whatever forgotten or neglected task stands before me, like the crying, neglected baby in this dream. But this certainty is matched by a new kind of doubt. In the last part of the dream the dreamer is trying to travel to a drug store, a place of healing. She travels in a cab, with several other people. But the other people are of no help when she arrives at the destination and discovers that the place of healing is no longer there. Still holding the baby, the dreamer starts out in search for the drugstore.

The growth of the soul at midlife is inaugurated by the Call, the moment when we turn away from outer noise and hear the still, small voice that tells us there must be more to life than the life we have been living. To acknowledge the Call is to hold the baby tight. But the next phase is the Search, where we depart from customary surroundings to seek a place of healing and wholeness. But the Search is not easy and the initial result may be more confusion: "The store I knew was no longer there." In this dream where the dreamer finds herself in what ought to be a familiar neighborhood (Brooklyn Heights) but now has become an unknown place. When we awaken to the mystery of our lives, we look around us and are suddenly plunged in this uncertainty: "I began to get confused and not sure what neighborhood I was in anymore." We want to look outside of ourselves for guidance, as symbolized here by the woman who is asked for directions but can only tell the dreamer what the dreamer knows already: she is going in the wrong direction and cannot find the right path, as Dante said in the opening lines of the Divine Comedy: "Midway in this mortal life I found myself astray from the right path."

This dream is a profound reminder of how the stages of the soul unfold in mystery and difficulty. The dreamer has left what is familiar and is now moving on a interior journey, as is said in the Gospel of Thomas: "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you." The undeveloped child within is still there for each one of us, saying "I've been waiting for you. I'm glad you're finally here." And so, in the end, like the dreamer, we wake up, and this bond of reassurance gives us hope to venture into the unknown which is within ourselves.