There is no doubt plenty of work to be done in prisons, including some for which this dreamer’s professional skills would qualify her. But my first response was that, if this were my dream, I would think about how I may tend to allow a job to become a prison, and how to avoid that unhappy situation as I go forward.
I was reminded of a dream of my own, many years ago, when I was in a work situation in which I was earning lots of money but was profoundly unhappy because my creative self wanted me to do something radically different. In my dream, I was in a kind of slave labor camp, where the big bosses of the organization that was paying me were strutting around like tinpot dictators. In the dream, I became aware that I could leave this camp at any time. The guards would not stop me, and anyway I had a huge personal bodyguard who was much bigger than them. So why was I slaving away here and putting up with the posturings of those in command? The answer lay in the canteen, where freezers and fridges were packed full of “American hamburger”.
Waking, I drew the lesson. No amount of “American hamburger” (translation: moolah, bucks, cash, cabbage) is sufficient reward for living in a slave labor camp. My dream producers helped me to clarify my choices, and I grew the courage to move away from a path of big bucks to a modest life-style congruent with my work as a teacher and creator.
There are other kinds of dream prisons. Near her wedding day, a woman I know dreamed on an eagle confined in a bird cage not much bigger than its bothered. Chained to a stand, the eagle was furiously gnawing at its leg, ready to do anything to get free. This led her to ask herself whether the marriage she had agreed to might amount to giving up a vital part of her soul – the part that, like a bird, can fly. After much soul-searching, she called off the wedding.
Have you ever found yourself in prison in a dream? What is your dream prison like?