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In medieval times, the threshold was a plank that kept barnyard \u201cthreshings\u201d outside the house. In the sciences a threshold is the limit of magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a definitive change to occur. In human development life stage thresholds are marked and recognized through ritual. In psychoanalytic work the symbol is the threshold\u2014a visible but not literal representation that calls consciousness to apprehend a larger, unseen reality.\xa0

Science fiction, mythology\u2019s modern descendant, has richly storied this process as transition into a new world. The ambiguity and disorientation of this liminal situation requires the sacrifice of old attitudes and willingness to surrender to a new reality\u2014a space of potential enlightenment. The ultimate goal is to recross the threshold and bring the symbolic experience home to consciousness.\xa0

Here's the dream we analyze:

\u201cIt is late at night and I find myself lying in a dark alleyway at the foot of a tall building. It seems I have just got married as I am dressed as a bride, in a bejeweled white dress. A fat woman with a very round face is looking over me with mean eyes. She is pulling my bridal jewelry off me, one by one. She tears my earrings away making my ears bleed, then the big nose pin, then my neck piece and so on. The woman looks into my eyes and says that my husband is dead. As she\u2019s tearing the jewelry off of me, my bridal dress begins to wear out. I am unable to stop her. Suddenly, I find myself in the entrance hallway of what seems like a palatial old house. It is dimly lit. I am feeling drained. My bridal dress is all rags now, I can\u2019t feel my feet. I look down and notice that both my feet are missing, it seems that they have been wrenched off of my legs. I am floating. I can sense that I\u2019m in a watery world. My breath is draining out through my legs. I manage to float to the edge of the grand staircase and hold onto the post at the bottom. I look up and try to call out to my sister, who I know is sleeping upstairs. My voice is stuck. I am dying.\u201d

REFERENCES:

Arnold van Gennep. Rites of Passage. https://www.amazon.com/dp/022662949X/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_10TZ7PBV2KD9PBZ14DVJ

RESOURCES:

Learn to Analyze your own Dreams:\xa0 https://thisjungianlife.com/enroll/