Writing as catharsis

Dreaming of a black wolf

Posted in Dreams, Prose, Ranting and rambling by Lachlan R. Dale on February 22, 2013

“Unconscious wholeness therefore seems to me the true spiritus rector of all biological and psychic events. Here is a principle which strives for total realisation – which in man’s case signifies the attainment of total consciousness. Attainment of consciousness is culture in the broadest sense, and self-knowledge therefore the heart and essence of this process..”

– Carl Jung.

In the spirit of Carl Jung’s Dreams, Memories, Reflections I’ve decided to record and analyse my dreams as much as I am able in the hope that my slumber might unveil aspects of my psyche that are otherwise inaccessible. Here is my recollection of one such dream.

Black WolfI found myself in a farmhouse which partially resembled that of my Grandfather’s. The room had the amplified dimensions of a rural property free of the confines of the city, with floors of a beautiful polished wood. I sat in a leather chair near a window, overlooking a grand countryside that more closely resembled the Canadian wilderness than the dry hills of western New South Wales (it is not uncommon that dreams take place in bastard chimeras of various familiar locations). Two hounds lay contentedly beside me, one a rather muscular looking black wolf, while the other reminded me of my childhood border collie. In peace I observed the majestic expanse beyond me, struck by the beauty of the landscape.

Suddenly a fox scurried into my line of sight. With a gaunt frame with a coat matted with filth, it was obviously starving and scrounging for food. If it found none it would soon die. I was struck by how pathetic it looked. As it turned to look at me I saw that, despite the appearance of it’s body, it’s face was that of a beautiful Ontarian Red Fox. In the gaze of those deep eyes I was struck dumb and my entire being welled with pity.

Red foxMoved, I stood and opened the window in front of me – what my intentions were I could not tell you, but I wanted to do something for the poor creature. I called out to the fox. It eyed me warily. Then – disaster. The black wolf jumped through the open window and pounced upon the lesser hound; snarling, growling and snapping it’s jaws, it monstered the poor creature. The size difference was immense; the fox was rendered a plaything in the jaws of this huge predatory beast. The scene horrified me.

As I helplessly called on the wolf to relent I was overcome with guilt and sadness that my actions had brought such misery upon the fox. I had not wanted this, but I knew that I had done this.


2 Responses

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  1. Kathy D said, on February 22, 2013 at 10:42 pm

    You did not do this. The black wolf is actually Sambo a large black Geraman Shepard. He killed foxes on your grandfathers property,although you never witnessed it.

  2. Lachlan R. Dale said, on February 22, 2013 at 10:46 pm

    That would make some sense – the black wolf probably is Sambo… but that doesn’t at all explain my actual place within the dream.

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