On the Symbol of Water
Reflections on Dreams and the Archetypal Depths
Today I found myself swimming in the bright blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. I have been traveling through Europe for over a month; beginning in England’s lush countryside, then walking the snowy peaks of the Swiss Alps. Now I am in Sicily, exploring my family roots. The richness of the land overflows. It feels personal in some respects — I am visiting the areas where my grandparents lived, feeling their presence as I move from city to city. I am eating the food they cooked me in my childhood; rice balls filled with savory ragù, decadent cannoli and Sicilian pastas.
Then there is the touch of history and ancient times still present. Old cities built from the black lava rock of Mt. Etna. The ruins of Greek temples to Apollo, Athena and Hera that still stand. Surrounding this all is the deep seas that carve the beaches of Sicily. The marine layer is never too far. The smell of the salt water carries across the wind. To be Sicilian is to be of the island and of the sea.
I have always felt a sense of homecoming in the ocean. Entering into the waters brings a feeling of return. I feel held by something larger than myself when I can move with the rhythm of the tides and dive into the waves as they curl towards shore. I wonder if this connection ties into my island heritage and having always lived by the great Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
Despite the positive connection, there is a mix of emotions that arise. I rejoice to be in the ocean while also fearing its power. What might lurk under its surface? What if a rip current catches hold and drags me away? I am at Mother Nature’s mercy. I am vulnerable to Neptune and his changing moods.
This is an archetypal constellation; vast in its reach and as mutable as the very waters themself. It is collective in nature — an essence of the spirit of water is carried via the shared legacy of the collective unconscious and strikes into each of our psyches. It also gathers to itself our own memories, emotions, images and sensations that we start to associate to the experience of water, ocean, sea, etc.
Deepening our relationship to water requires that we see this interplay between archetypal foundations and subjective experience. A perfect mining ground for this exercise is to look to our dreams, where water reflects the fluidity of our psychic nature.
Working with the Symbol of Water
Jung wrote:
“Water is the commonest symbol for the unconscious.” (Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, CW 9.1)
This is a helpful starting point for us as we look towards our dreams. The essence of water can speak to the shifting tides and deep mysteries of the unconscious. For the potential to be flooded by a complex or to drink deeply of healing waters that flow from an unknown spring.
Too often, however, we jump to this interpretation rather than seeing Jung’s statement as an invitation to listen to the symbol and what its manifestation reflects back to us. We become rigid rather than being formless and wrapping our mind around the shape of the image presented. Water as the unconscious means it defies solid definition, is truly unknowable, and harbors the core of psychic life as we know it.
We come to understand our unconscious by how it rises to the surface for consciousness to observe. To notice the patterns it makes; the way it pushes and pulls at us. Each dream is a little gift that floats from the unconscious ocean’s depths. And when water is present, I think the potential to interact with our deep psyche is heightened.
To illustrate this further, I’ll share a water dream of mine and some reflections below:
I am swimming in the ocean and I am afraid there might be sharks. Other people are pointing off in the distance and saying “Don’t you see them?” I didn’t, but I felt a sense of fear for being so vulnerable in the open water. I am with someone else, holding onto their arm. Knowing there may be sharks nearby makes me apprehensive to leave their side.
For some reason or another, I let go and swim off. I am now sitting on something in the ocean, as if there was an underwater bench. Suddenly, there are dolphins all around, one of them swims right up and goes past me. It is scary at first. As if they might crush me as they swim by. But I move my body to gently make space as the dolphins swim around. It feels like a very magical moment.
The emotional qualities of dreams are a telltale sign of where we are positioned in the psyche. Here we see a transformation from fear, apprehension and worry to ease, receptivity and wonder. Why is this?
Being in open water activates an instinctual (archetypal) readiness to be on high alert. We are not creatures of the sea. We are entering a new domain where we are merely visitors.
Overlaid on this collective experience is my personal projections of the unknown. The dream may be pulling emotional references from times I have felt fear in the ocean. This kind of hypervigilance is likely reflected in my waking life, even if I am not fully conscious of it.
There is a noticeable shift in the dream. A breaking away from perceived safety that allows me to discover a place of grounding amongst the water.
When this happens, the projection dissolves into a new reality — it is not sharks that appear, but curious and playful dolphins. The inner dream dialogue reveals that I am uncertain of this change, anticipating that something may go wrong. But the actions of my body to move with the dolphin reveals there is a deeper wisdom that can guide this process (even if my mind is unsure).
Here I am being presented with the potential for a new state of consciousness, a new way of relating, a new position to adopt towards the shadows that I fear under the surface.
That bit of grounding (the bench in the water) feels especially important. Like a vessel, it contains and holds the process of dissolution that I am in need of. The open water is too big, too vast, too overwhelming. A bit of water, just enough to soften my edges, creates the proper conditions for a change to occur.
Mediating our interactions with the unconscious is how we see meaningful change. Slow titration allows us to interact with the scary parts without becoming overwhelmed. We need the waters to return us to the natural flow, to wash away what has become fixed, and generate new life and potential.
Whether standing at the ocean’s edge in waking life or dreaming of underwater depths, we are reminded of the transformative power that lies within the waters. Mysterious as it may be, it invites us to contemplate the expansiveness of our inner landscape. To connect to our own story while also placing ourself amongst the larger tapestry of the archetypal psyche.
Join the conversation
What are your thoughts on the symbolic and archetypal qualities of water?
Beautiful, love the dream analysis and prompts! A lovely initiation into Cancer season.
After I bought my apartment I dreamt that I was in a house on the edge of a cliff. I was lying on a couch by the window and I had an amazing view of the ocean that was incredibly stormy and wavy. Wind and salt spray were flying through the window but I didn’t close it.