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Two years on from my blog, “Dreams part one”, dreams seem less important to me. I mean by that, that few people seem to bring them to therapy. That may be because they don’t for a moment think they are of any value, Just like, they don’t tell me (often) that they dread coming to see me, or that they fancy me, or that they are thinking about the shopping, or… many other things.

So maybe Freud was right to say to clients who are starting therapy that “the only rule is to say the first thing that comes into your head.” Of course, people generally don’t do that because they don’t think that their shopping list is “relevant”. But, oh yes it is. It displays, perhaps, their boredom with this whole therapy thing; or their fear of getting to other stuff – or whatever. And surely that is far more valuable than the words they decide eventually to say. Though, of course, those words are very important, perhaps because they are the best evidence that people are too frightened to say what first came into their heads. And so it goes on, the thinking and wondering goes on; it is live.

So, why am I less interested in dreams? I think because I am worried that some clients think that I may know what a dream means.

What do I mean by that? Now what I am going to say is an exaggeration, but there is a lot of truth in it. I believe that what is important in therapy is not all the words that clients say or that I say, but how it all feels. For example, a client turns up a few minutes early. ‘Bother,’ I think to myself; my mouth tightens in irritation, and then I put away that irritation and go and open the door in welcome. BUT. That was the real bit; not the smile on my face at the door, but the whole thing: the earlyness, the irritation, the suppression, the smile, the falseness, the apparent meeting but lack of meeting.

So? So what? What do I make of it? And the answer is…… I don’t know. Of course I try to know, because not knowing is really not comfortable, but if I am able to stay with that absolute sense of being a beginner, of not having a clue, especially if I feel some pressure for me to know, well then, something may emerge.

Not knowing is good. I may spend the first five minutes, and again later on in the session, as words are being said, wondering how it all fits together. How much is my stuff? How much is theirs? My stuff would be my tightness, not wanting to give them an extra crumb. Their stuff would be…. I don’t know. And if I can hold silence, then maybe my wondering will yield something; maybe the field (the session time) will produce a crop. Coming early, coming early… why, what does it mean? And if an idea does come to me, if things do seem to fit, then they may want to know. Like turning action into words, unrecognised action into words (or suggested words, anyway).

Of course I feel stupid, helpless, not knowing; far nicer to know. But then if I know already, I can’t really have met another person.

So, in my opinion, therapy is not too much about words or ideas; it is not about meanings – what does this dream mean. It is about the dynamics of the total situation – and trying to recognise them. If you want to read one article on psychotherapy, may I suggest Betty Joseph, “Transference: the total situation” (1985), also published in “Psychic equilibrium and psychic change – Selected papers of Betty Joseph”.

And, ‘the dynamics of the total situation’ (above) means the feelings. What is happening? Do I know? And if I think I do, might a tentative wondering to the client be accurate; or indeed, touch a raw spot?

So dreams have I believe, a meaning; but a meaning lodged in the question, “How did the dream feel?” A horse does not have a ‘meaning’. Even, “What do you associate with the dream/with the horse?” may lead to just more words. But it may also lead to …. well, feelings is hardly a strong enough word for it. It may lead to reality, to truth, to who I am, to fundamental attitudes.

To end, dreams in psychoanalysis seem to occupy a similar place to miracles in religion. They are unusual, sexy, make people say things like “Oh my word”, when what they really mean is “How irrelevant.” A dream becomes relevant if it is shaped in the same shape as some other part of the interaction in the encounter. Just like miracles are absolutely not about breaking laws of nature, or turning water into wine, but are about … kindness, perhaps; fundamental kindness? Miracles don’t have a meaning; that castrates them. They surely need to be met, greeted, sometimes eaten, taken in, paused over. And, don’t go looking for miracles or dreams; that is to miss the growing flowers. Teresa of Avila used to say that miracles were froth. It is probably more a miracle that anyone comes to see me or dares to open up.