The Reunion

Last night, I had a dream that struck me with such intensity and symbolic clarity that I felt compelled to share it—and explore its meaning through a Jungian lens. It felt less like a dream and more like a visitation from the soul. Here’s what happened.

The Dream

I was at a high school reunion. I’m 39 now, but the setting brought back all the feelings and emotions of those teenage years. While there, I ran into a girl I once knew—someone I had a quiet crush on back then.

Instantly, there was a playful, flirtatious energy between us. At one point, she kissed me on the cheek. It was electric. I remember feeling such longing for her lips—they seemed beyond sensual, almost divine. Her lips were the most visually appealing thing I had ever seen—like an invitation to union, to wholeness.

We spent the rest of the reunion in easy conversation, drifting among others, always staying near. At one point, she was discussing Jungian symbolism with someone, and I realized, with complete clarity, that I needed to spend the rest of my life with her. Despite being married and a father, I felt an overwhelming pull—this wasn’t just desire; it was destiny.

Then, the setting shifted. I was in a garage, speaking to my son. I told him how happy I was, and said, with certainty:

Jungian psychology isn’t just a map of the psyche. It’s a map of the soul. The inner work is spiritual work. It’s soul work.

The reunion moved to a large restaurant. Our group was too big to seat, so we waited while the staff rearranged tables. I was no longer with the girl. I tried to find her on Facebook, scrolling through her photos, eventually landing on swimsuit pictures that deeply excited me. The longing returned, but it had shifted—more image than intimacy now.

As I browsed, I leaned on a counter and accidentally turned off all the music in the restaurant. Just then, our hostess appeared and began leading us to our table.

It was not a simple path. We had to descend a set of stairs, unlock doors, and squeeze through narrow spaces. The journey was winding and strange, almost initiatory. Finally, we arrived—but before we were seated, I woke up.

My Interpretation

This dream is layered with archetypal meaning—an unmistakable message from the unconscious, urging me toward deeper integration.

High School as Psychic Ground Zero

The reunion signals a return to a formative stage of the psyche. High school is where our identities begin to take shape—where longings, traumas, and projections first crystalize. To revisit this place in a dream is to return to an early psychic root.

The girl is not just a person from memory. She is my anima—the inner feminine, the soul-image that Jung says mediates the unconscious. Her presence stirs playfulness, eroticism, and deep yearning—all hallmarks of an anima awakening.

The Kiss and the Longing

She kisses me, but only on the cheek. It is tender but not consummated. I long for more. Her lips feel otherworldly—this isn’t just desire, it’s the soul calling.

Jung suggests that the anima often begins as a romantic ideal or erotic figure, but she matures into a guide of the soul. This kiss is the invitation, not the union.

A Message to the Inner Child

The dream pivots powerfully when I speak to my son—who, on reflection, I recognize as a symbol of my inner child. In the dream, I say:

Jungian psychology isn’t just a map of the psyche. It’s a map of the soul. The inner work is spiritual work. It’s soul work.

This isn’t simply a statement of belief—it’s a revelation shared with the part of me that has waited so long to hear it. The child in me—the one who carries old pain and unfulfilled longing—hears that his suffering is not meaningless. That the journey I’m on is for him. That he matters.

This moment is is inner reunification—a healing dialogue between my present, conscious self and the vulnerable child within who longs for wholeness.

From Soul to Image: The Facebook Scroll

Losing the girl and searching for her digitally symbolizes the collapse of the sacred into the profane. I go from soulful encounter to social media stalking, reducing the anima to swimsuit photos and fantasy.

This is projection. This is the anima as object, rather than inner guide. And yet—this, too, is part of the journey.

Turning Off the Music

Leaning on the counter and accidentally turning off the music is a symbolic misstep—my search for the anima externally disrupts inner harmony. Music often symbolizes the unconscious’s natural rhythm. I interrupted it.

The Descent and the Locked Doors

At last, we are led to our table—but the way is difficult. We must descend, unlock doors, squeeze through narrow places. This is a symbolic descent into the unconscious—a katabasis.

The one who leads us is the hostess, who in this dream plays the role of a psychopomp—a guide between realms. She appears precisely at the liminal moment when the ordinary social event (the reunion) gives way to something deeper, stranger, and sacred.

Her presence marks a turning point. I am no longer trying to find my anima through effort or fantasy. Now, I must follow.

This is not a descent I control. It is one I submit to—passing through thresholds and symbolic gates, on the way to something unseen, something nourishing.

But I wake up before I am fed.

And that is significant.

What It All Means

The anima has stirred. The music has paused. The descent has begun.

I haven’t been seated yet—I haven’t yet integrated or consumed the nourishment of the Self. But the way is open.

This dream isn’t about romance or infidelity. It’s about wholeness, longing, and the soul’s call.

The anima is not the girl.
The girl is the door.
And the door has begun to open.

Final Reflection

Jungian psychology often speaks of the union of opposites—the reconciliation of inner and outer, masculine and feminine, conscious and unconscious. This dream is my psyche’s myth: a story of eros, soul hunger, and the winding journey toward the true table—the place of wholeness.

And most powerfully, it is a message to the inner child in me. The part who waited in silence for years is now being spoken to—not with doctrine or dogma, but with soul.

I haven’t reached the table yet. But I’m on the path.

And that’s enough.

• Tags:
• dreams
• jung
• school

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