[up] [home]

Dream Workshops and Healing

Montague Ullman, M.D.

Transpersonal Psychotherapy. Edited by Seymour Boorstein, M.D. Science and Behavior Books, Inc., Palo Alto, California, 1980

The use of dream work has been pivotal and important for Western psychology for many years. In this paper, Montague Ullman, a classically trained psychoanalyst and recognized pioneer in dream research and parapsychology, bridges the classical and the transpersonal. Although he uses a Western psychological approach, Ullman is philosophically very close to the mystical traditions in which unity consciousness is the goal.


In reviewing dream research to date. Ullman sees Freud's contribution as "the dynamic-concept of the dream," while to Jung "'we owe a recognition of the growth-enhancing potential of the dream and its self-confronting nature " How do we reach this stage of confrontation and growth? The author sees this process activated by daily occurrences whose "novel aspects . . . can potentially upset an existing emotional status quo." This upset needs to be resolved in some way, restructured. "Restructuring emotional attitudes toward others and oneself, " Ullman maintains, "is important from the transpersonal point of view." Feelings, he asserts, are at the foundation of all dream metaphors and of every human connection.


While human connections are built on feelings, we most often suppress them in waking life; the push is towards individuality. It is only in our dreams that we allow true feelings to surface and thus heal the broken or tenuous connections between ourselves and others.


The dream workshops Ullman describes work on the assumption that, while the dreamer is the ultimate authority and expert on his or her own dreams, a group can "relate to that truth more readily than the dreamer. " Therefore attention is given more to the appreciation of the participants' dreams than to their interpretation - appreciation of the move on the part of the dreamer and the group towards unity and connectedness. Together, they reach back to the original transpersonal message of the dream. Doing this is "to come closer to others " - and this, says the author, is healing

The transpersonal features of dreams have, unfortunately, been long overshadowed by Freud's discoveries about dreaming. Today, we must view classical psychoanalytic approaches to the subject from a historical perspective if we hope to separate the enduring contributions of early investigators from the metapsychology in which they were embedded. Our dream images reflect the state of our connections with significant others and the emotional tone of those relationships they are shaped by the interplay between waking experience and this emotional field.

It is possible to observe this interplay and highlight the transpersonal features in a group setting.


A certain smugness has crept into our approach to dreams, which can be accounted for, in part, by our legacy from Freud. His ground-breaking, comprehensive formulations have had such enormous impact that we cannot easily separate what we know empirically from the metapsychological structure he evolved to explain the meaning and dynamics of dreams. Freud's thought, shaped by his clinical experience, focused exclusively on the dreamer's struggle with unresolved residues of the past. He saw the tension in dreams as conflict and resolution, the conflict originating in the ego's refusal to accept infantile wishes derived from primitive drives.

Carl Jung established a much broader base for his speculations about dreams. He saw dreaming as a natural and universal dimension of human existence. In his view dreams have an integrative function, calling attention to aspects of the personality not duly recognized in the waking state. For Jung, the tension stemmed from polarities within the personality, polarities that had to be brought into complementary relationship before the individual was free to recognize and work with all aspects of his personality. Researching what we would now call the transpersonal nature of dreaming, Jung postulated a collective unconscious that is part of the genetic equipment and makes its presence felt through the appearance of archetypal symbols in dreams from time to time.

To Freud we owe the dynamic concept of the dream. Leaving aside his metapsychological schema, we can see that he provided an explanation of how information with a bearing on past and present tensions came into a dream. He recognized that a recent event or day residue becomes the organizing focus for the dream. Although insignificant by itself, this event assumes significance because of its connection to as unresolved issue from the past. The feelings associated with it seem to echo through our past, mobilizing bits and pieces of earlier life experience related to the problem. In the course of dreaming, we bring together the relevant data, past and present, and the resources at our disposal, both healthy and defensive, then we try to come to some resolution.

To Jung we owe recognition of the growth-enhancing potential of the dream and its self-confronting nature. This confronting power moves us to higher levels of personality integration by focusing not only on conflict but also on our unrealized potential. Jung does not visualize two sides of our personality warring against each other, he emphasizes the need to recognize neglected, ignored, or undeveloped aspects of ourselves.

A dreamer is concerned at some times with specific, unresolved problems from the past and at other times with the impact of new experiences and the forward thrust of emotional growth. In either instance, the kind of waking experience that sets up enough tension to preempt our dreams can be said to have the quality of intrusive novelty. Such experiences are novel to the extent that they hint at something unknown and unfamiliar. The nature of the novelty determines the focus of the dream. The waking event intrudes into our dream life because it makes a connection with vulnerable areas from our past. The dreaming phase of the sleep cycle is then used to explore the significance of this novel experience as measured against the backdrop of earlier experiences and our available coping resources.

This is, in brief, where a personal view of dreams has taken us. To shift to a transpersonal view calls for not only a closer examination of what we mean by novelty but also a reconsideration of other phenomenological features of dreaming. It may also require us to adopt a radically different perspective on the significance and potential of our dream life.


The metaphorical representation of feelings as visual images is central to the dream process. Feelings function as connective tissue linking people and providing a matrix or medium in which their transactions can occur. When things are going well, this matrix, like the surface of the sea, is experienced in its quiet, buoyant, and supportive aspects. When there is trouble, turbulence develops in the matrix, and angry, troubled feelings result.

The suggestion that novelty is the main link between waking experience and dreaming stresses the vigilance function of dream consciousness; the novel aspects of day-time encounters can potentially upset an existing emotional status quo. Any such possibility commands the dreamer's attention and makes it necessary to assess and resolve the situation.

Novelty is linked to issues of personal growth in two important ways. First, a truly novel experience may confront us and we dream about it. We are in a new situation that we cannot ignore. The feeling of unfamiliarity evokes some tension. A variety of other feelings such as interest, challenge, and foreboding, may occur. Positive feelings occur in situations involving "approach" behavior - exposure to new experiences in art, loving, or learning - whereas more troublesome feelings are aroused when flight-or-fight patterns result, such as a soldier's first time in combat. The common factor is this: the reality situation presents something truly new from which there is no exit. One tries, through exploration of the past, to evolve some way of meeting the challenge.

Second, novelty is not inherent in the objective nature of the confronting situation; rather, there is novelty in the way we perceive the situation subjectively. If the past predisposes us to see a situation as threatening and manages to penetrate our defenses against it, then the sense of novelty comes from the feeling of unpreparedness for coping with it. Defensive operations have failed to protect us against this intrusive novelty. For example, we are surprised to find that what we considered judicious concern with money matters is experienced, by others as selfishness. If this strikes us as a no-exit situation, our nighttime job is then to explore the issue and gather the strength to face that bit of truth about ourselves. If we fail in this, we try to repair our defenses.

We are not alone in the world. Any effort to undo old attitudes or to grow into new ones involves restructuring past and present emotional bonds. It is this restructuring that preoccupies the dreamer. The intrusive, novel aspects of a recent experience make the dreamer aware that certain shifts and changes have been set in motion. Concerned with the possible implications, the dreamer mobilizes relevant information from the past to help assess both situation and ability to cope with it. If the tensions connected with this effort retrain below a certain level, the dreaming phase proceeds to its natural termination. If, however, the tension is more than can be contained during sleep, then dreaming is interrupted and awakening occurs. In terms of vigilance theory, the dreamer has recognized something new on his emotional horizon, explored its ramifications and implications, and made a decision as to whether or not full arousal is necessary.

Restructuring emotional attitudes toward others and oneself is important from the transpersonal point of view. Emotions can be understood only as transpersonal events. Biological, psychological, and social theories about the nature of emotions fail to take this into account.[1] In this context, transpersonal meaning goes beyond the biological, the psychological, the social, and even the cultural.

Stated more positively, I view our emotional capacity as a unifying energy field concerned with maintaining the integrity of our linkages to each other as members of a single species. We feel true emotions - even "negative" emotions like anger - when it becomes necessary to realize this unity in practice and to strengthen or repair it when damaged. When movement occurs in an interpersonal field, the accompanying true emotion facilitates the movement and at the same time preserves the integrity of the interpersonal field. A pseudo-emotion, however, purports to facilitate interpersonal movement but actually manipulates or destroys the interpersonal field in order to control the movement Anger is a healthy or true emotion; it defines what has to be changed without destroying the interpersonal field within which the problem arises. Hostility is a pseudo-emotion. The object is deflected from the goal of facilitating movement and becomes focused on the wish to destroy that part of the interpersonal field seen as giving rise to the problem. Other pairs of emotions and pseudo-emotions are love and compliance, and assertiveness and aggression.

We are the mediators of feelings experienced as a flow into our being and expressed as a flow out of our being. True feelings link us to something larger than ourselves and carry us deeper into the world. In our dreams we write the script and cast characters that best express our concern about whatever appears to be impeding this movement. We are also the spectators of and actors in the inner drama we have created. This internal theater is similar in many ways to its external counterpart. It is just as concerned with the vicissitudes of human emotions and car carry us just as powerfully out of ourselves and into the realm of the ineffable. The images in our dreams are rooted in feeling. When we are able to grasp their metaphoric messages, feelings are released. Gestalt theorists emphasize this in their concern with using the images to fill in emotional "holes" left over from the past.

Is there any justification - other than their experiential "feel" - for regarding emotions in this way? I suggest two findings that lend some support to this point of view. The occurrence and control of REM sleep appears to be mediated by older and more primitive brain structures. From a phylogenetic viewpoint, the close tie-in of states of cortical arousal with the REM period, the close connection of the REM state to our feeling life, and the prominent role of brain stem structures in the control of the REM cycle suggest the possibility that these mechanisms arose in connection with the survival needs of the human species. They may have provided a nocturnal physiological mechanism for monitoring primitive man's connections with his fellow beings. As an individual, he was far more vulnerable than as a member of a group. Feelings provided the channel for expressing those interconnections. The REM state afforded the opportunity for a nightly review of the state of these connections in the wake of day-time experience.

Still another basis for these speculations stems from parapsychological studies and, in particular, recent experimental work on dream telepathy (Ullman, Krippner, with Vaughan, 1973). Having initiated and conducted such work over the past fifteen years, I am convinced that the scanning process we deploy during the REM period can extend beyond our own spatial boundaries to pick up relevant information telepathically and to extend beyond our temporal boundaries to pick up relevant information precognitively. Although random information appears occasionally, paranormally apprehended information is usually more apt to occur when a significant emotional bond exists between the individuals involved. In ways we do not understand, we seem able to transcend the ordinary, limiting physical realities of our existence and to do this in connection with events that may threaten our emotional ties to others.


Having established the fundamental role of feelings in relation to dreams, we can examine the way in which the feeling images appearing in our dreams serve the purpose of maintaining and repairing our connections with significant others. This mechanism is not at all complicated. Our impact on others and their impact on us register in a feeling way regardless of whether or not we perceive them accurately or consciously. That they do register at some level accounts for the way feelings surface in dreams. We are confronted with what has truly happened. We are witness to the disparity between the truth and our efforts at distortion. In short, we are confronted with a realm of honesty in ourselves.

It takes considerable cultural conditioning to maintain the illusion of individuality and separateness from one another. After all, if we truly experienced one another as brothers belonging to the same species, it would be difficult to justify the infinite variety of hurtful acts we commit against one another in our innocent efforts to accept and maintain an individualistic orientation. We evolve elaborate systems of self-deception to hide the fact of our unity. In psychotherapy we try to help people come to terms with individual systems of self-deception that limit self-realization. Nowhere do we consider the more difficult task of coming to terms with the culturally reinforced systems of self-deception that keep us on individual tracks and undermine our unity as members of a single species.

Dreams monitor our struggle to be truly human, to be truly committed to other people. When we are awake, the main focus is separateness and individuality; when we are asleep, there is a shift to the more natural state of our relatedness to others. If we consider individuality as analogous to waves in the sea rather than as enclosed structures separate from one another, then we might say that the waking state limits our view to the crests of these waves. We mistake them for discrete structures. The view from the dreaming state focuses on the troughs, the connecting medium between the crests. This is the realm of the transpersonal, and the degree of turbulence here is what most concerns the dreamer.

The dream confronts us with our status as human beings. It does so by simply using the truth. The problem is that the truth is often too hot to handle while awake. This, too, is understandable. If dreams really are an effort to remove emotional blind spots, it is difficult for the dreamer to deal with them on his own. After all, the blind spots evolved in the first place through exposure to social influences. It is therefore reasonable to expect that some kind of social process will be needed to help remove them. The experiential dream group is one such social process (Ullman & Zimmerman, 1979).


Working with dreams experientially in small groups has made me more aware of the transpersonal dimension of dream work. It has also made me aware of the great need that people have to communicate with others with the intimacy and honesty that dream work requires. There are few appropriate social groupings that can respond adequately to this need. The unfortunate result is that people are left to meet these needs individually or, when they can afford to, in the more specialized therapeutic arrangements. Such arrangements touch only tangentially, if at all, the transpersonal quality of dream work. The focus is, understandably, on the individual psychological level.

Two principles govern experiential dream work. First, the dreamer remains in control of the process in its entirety. Second, the group serves as a catalyst, helping and supporting the dreamer's effort to relate to his dream. No one, including the leader, assumes an authoritative stance. Theory is eschewed except for a few basic, nontechnical concepts such as the day residue, the linkages of dream images to recant and remote past, the use of a visual modality to engage in metaphorical expression, and the tripartite structure of the dream in the form of setting, development, and resolution. The dreamer and the dream are appreciated in their uniqueness. Ideas about the dreamer's predicament are gradually generated from the immediate data offered by the dreamer and the response generated by the group.

This is how the experiential process works:

A dreamer who feels ready to present a dream to the group does so, limiting the account to the manifest content only. The group is then helped to respond in two ways. It is made clear that their responses are largely their own projections and are based on what they feel and read into the dream as they heard it. They are encouraged to describe any feelings experienced while listening to the dream as well as any feelings they experience if they think of the dream as their own. When this process is finished, they are ready for the next step, which is also presented as a projective exercise.

The group turns its attention to each of the images appearing in the dream, responding to them as metaphorical rather than literal statements. Using only the data appearing in the dream and their response to the dreamer as he or she tells the dream, the group comes up with a variety of ideas relating to possible metaphorical meanings of the images.

The final stage of the process is a dialogue between the dreamer and the group. The dreamer responds to the group's input, some of which may have struck home and some of which may have seemed unrelated. The dreamer is helped to reflect on the events of the previous day in order to define clearly the specific content that shaped the dream when it occurred. The dreamer and the group work toward making concrete connections between the dream images, the current context and the significant points of contact of the dream with events in the dreamer's past. The group neither pushes nor pries. They supply what they feel are appropriate. open ended questions to which the dreamer responds with as much self-disclosure as he feels is comfortable. The process generally continues until the dreamer experiences a sense of closure.


More often than not, a dream is remembered and disowned at the same time. It is introduced as silly, strange, or confusing. The dreamer is aware that he has dreamed it but is unable to feel his relation to it. The group functions as a midwife to the dreamer by helping to deliver the dream into public view. Because of the insights that are sparked by the group, the dreamer begins gradually to take possession of his own dream. Once that happens the dreamer can go as far as he likes in working through new understandings. Only the dreamer determines the point at which he wishes to carry the process on privately. Midwives help in the delivery, but they don't raise the child.

When a group shares a person's dream, there is an unacknowledged understanding that something both precious and fragile has been entrusted to them. In being privy to the realm of another's humanity, we encounter our own. Trust and tenderness are generated. There is a sense of tapping a common bond, a recognition of familiar terrain, and a surprising ability to empathize with the dreamer. It becomes a healing experience for the group as well as for the dreamer.

In our dreams we struggle against fragmentation and move toward wholeness. Dreams are a naturally available path toward emotional healing. That they require a social process for the healing to take place should cause no surprise. Movement out of fragmentation and past blocks can occur only when favorable social arrangements are at hand. The relationship between the waking and the dreaming self is a kind of "Catch 22": we can confront ourselves more honestly when asleep; in the waking state, we might be able to benefit from this honesty, our old expedient self takes over. Truth often has a hard time when expediency has the upper hand. The healing power of the dream rests solidly on the truth it embodies and the power of confrontation possessed by the images used to convey that truth.

The other members of the group can relate to that truth more ready than the dreamer. This begins to happen as they pick up the feeling tones. They are then guided by these feelings into exploring the range of possible metaphorical meanings suggested by the images. This results in a number of hits and misses. The dialogue with the dreamer is essential in order to sharpen, define, and personalize the experience.

What happens is not easy to put into words. Just as there is something ineffable about the dream, there is something ineffable about the process by which the group helps disclose the dream to the dreamer. The members of the group are not operating from any particular theoretical base. They are trying to tune into the common grounding that supports them as well as the dreamer. By moving into this matrix they help the dreamer discover his connections with it. No matter how upsetting a dream may be, there is some relief in making the issue visible. The relief is not necessary based on the resolution of the problem but on recognizing it as the first step toward a resolution. Issues and predicaments in dreams do not disappear because we do not attend to them; movement begins with recognition of their existence

The transpersonal dimension of dreaming becomes more apparent as the healing properties of the images are fully appreciated. Troublesome predicaments, tensions and challenges arise during the day. They block, impede, or deflect the flow of energies and prevent proper contact with energy systems beyond our own boundaries. Andras Angyal mentions that this striving of all living systems to transcend their own boundaries and to be part of something larger than themselves is the trend toward homonomy (1941). This contrasts with another important trend, the trend toward autonomy, where the concern is with maintaining the integrity of our dreams. As the group listens to a dream, they respond to the echoes of difficulties they may have experienced in trying to realize their own homonymous needs. The focus shifts from the individual to the commonality of human needs and the vicissitudes to which they are subject. Dream work moves us into a transpersonal domain by drawing attention to the way we are living out our membership in a single species. This special quality pulls the group into the dreamer's life and brings out helpful group responses without engaging the dreamer in any defensive struggle.

We do not have the language to speak more concretely of this particular quality of dream life. Terms like transpersonal and spiritual touch on two aspects of it: the beyond-the-person component, and the inspirational and unifying feeling tone to the experience. When we look at a dream from this transpersonal perspective, we begin to see it as more than a reflection of an immediate and particular predicament and to appreciate its more general function of monitoring our ties to other human beings. This concern with connectedness mobilizes the group's interest in and sensitivity to the dreamer's struggle.

The style and intent of the dream group makes it quite different from most other groups, especially encounter groups, in which each person is held accountable for whatever he brings to the group. The encounter group has the right to make demands on the individual in order to clarify and expose manipulative or exploitative trends. The behavior of each participant is subject to group challenge. Individual members are there to find out about their interpersonal strategies. The group helps by confronting them and by defending itself against manipulative and acting-out behavior.

In the experiential dream group, the persons who present a dream to the group do not initially take responsibility for its message. They arc sharing an unknown and potentially vulnerable part of themselves. The group responds to this disclosure with concern, consideration, and respect for the vulnerability of the dreamer. Operating within the process, they try to help the dreamer come to a felt sense of closure, using every means possible short of forcing the issue. The group tries to help the dreamer see the issues he is raising with himself and guide him toward a resolution at his own pace and by his own choice.


A work of art is rooted in feelings, and it becomes part of the common heritage because of the truth it embodies about humanity or nature. It defies interpretation but yields to appreciation. Interpretation is limiting and restricting; it has the effect of closing off other responses. Appreciation is unifying and open-ended and sets off a widening circle of reverberating responses. In ordinary parlance we speak of "interpreting" dreams. Certainly in the professional context the therapist seeks to work out the interpretation.

I feel more comfortable with the concept of appreciation rather than interpretation of dreams. I think that dreams have more in common with art than with science. Scientific pursuits result in the isolation and definition of facts. Dreams originate in feelings. There is no way of capturing the quality and intensity of feelings in any other medium. Hence, there is no way to set their limits by interpretive closure. The images we produce in our dreams are only our best approximations of the feelings they are trying to convey. The words we use to say things about the images are, in turn, limited in what they can say about the image. This is why it is important for the group to be sensitive to their feeling responses to the images before they struggle cognitively for possible meanings.

It is most important to identify the real life context out of which the dream arose. This can usually be defined with a certain specificity as can the related life events of the past referred to in the dream. It is the felt meaning, or feeling tone accompanying these connections, that reaches the dreamer. Its power and intensity set off reverberations that spread through the dreamer's being. The use of the term interpretation seems too closely linked to the more limited cognitive aspect of the experience. The concept of appreciation emphasizes the feeling of identification with the forces at work as dynamic, open-ended aspects of being.

A number of features of experiential dream work distinguish it from the therapeutic approach in the dyadic situation:

The time factor. Work with dreams has a rhythm of its own. It requires an available expanse of time. It cannot be hurried any more than the appreciation of a painting or a symphony. In the group, the sole focus is on the dream and the time available to pursue it is open-ended. In the therapeutic situation, the available time is less (usually one hour as compared to two or more hours for the dream group), and more issues vie for attention and help to determine how that time is spent.

The diversity of input. The metaphorical meaning of most dream images is not immediately apparent. Some kind of catalytic activity is needed to expose the dreamer to the range of possible meanings his images convey until one or more of them touch off a responsive cord. It is this kind of helping activity on which the group embarks. Regardless of how sophisticated any one person may be about dream work, the range and variety of input from a group are far richer than those of a single individual. The group does not have the same need for dissemblance that the dreamer has in the pursuit of the metaphors of the dream.

The absence of authority. The entire process takes place in an egalitarian atmosphere. The leader does not stand apart from the group. He shares his own dreams and through them his own humanity. The flattening of any hierarchical arrangements lessens the tension felt by the presenting dreamer and minimizes any transferential effects. It also works against any need for the dreamer to be defensive or resistant.

De-professionalizing the process. The absence of allegiance to any technical or theoretical system combined with the avoidance of jargon of any kind conveys to the participants a sense of the normality of the experience. The group develops a feeling of competence as they join in the give and take of the process. The leader is seen as a guide rather than a specialist whose knowledge and authority overshadows others in the group.

Control remains in the hands of the dreamer. The dreamer makes the decision to share a dream. The dreamer's felt response to the group's input is paramount. The dreamer decides on how much self-disclosure he feels comfortable with. He can stop the process at any point he wishes and continue on his own. The control of the process thus remains in the dreamer's hands from beginning to end. This provides considerable cushioning for the dreamer and also has the effect of minimizing any resistances he may have.

Response to a challenge. A dream set before a group is a mystery to be solved. The listeners experience it as a challenge, usually with a sense of excitement. There is a playful relationship to the images even when the content may appear oppressive. Fun and joy are part of the discovery of the subtlety, elegance, and appropriateness of the metaphorical meanings of the images.

For all these reasons there are many things that can be done with dreams in a group that cannot take place as easy in private treatment. It is my experience that a certain complementarity evolves when someone participates in both processes at the same time. By performing the midwife function, the group brings the dream into public view and helps the dreamer experience it as his own. The experience of appreciating, owning, and working with the dream in the group paves the way for the exploration of its therapeutic implications in private therapy. In the more protected and intimate setting of the therapeutic situation, one can explore some of the more personal references as well as the characterological and behavioral implications. This dovetailing of effect is the way it has worked out in practice, despite some of my initial concern about possible conflict, competitiveness, and other manipulative misuse of the situation.

The experiential dream group helps people connect with the ever-available, though underutilized, healing potential of the images they create while asleep. That the dreamer is unable to deal with the dream alone does not mean that he is not ready; rather, if the dream is remembered at all, then we may assume that the dreamer is ready at some level to deal with it. The dream group and its leader assume a responsive, supportive, facilitating role, respecting the authority of the dreamer. He is the only real expert about his dream.

We do not know how a dream comes into being. Working backwards and weighing the transpersonal qualities that emerge when a group focuses on dream material we might conclude that the source of the dream image itself is transpersonal in nature. Shands comments on transcendence in dreaming as he draws a comparison between dreaming and meditation:

Variant states of consciousness occur in transcendent form in the highly disciplined religious or meditative human being at one end of a scale of planned systematic activity. Curiously enough, and in a manner which indicates again how close apparent opposites may be when we understand the basically circular nature of human experience, a very similar state of transcendent consciousness occurs in dreaming. Dreaming tends to occur as a function of a physiological state precisely the opposite of the disciplined state of the meditator, a state extensively examined is recent years and termed the "rapid eye movement state." The dreamer experiences a liberation from "objective reality" just as the mediator does - with the difference that where the meditative road to this kind of merging is the road of discipline, the dreamer's road is the road of extensive and automatic neural inhibition of activity in all those muscles which ordinarily mediate skilled behavior in the alert waking human being. (1971, p. 107).

The dreamer moves in stages from an initial point in the transpersonal field, which is experienced as tension between himself and others, to a personal representation of this tension and its background in the form of developing dream images. On arousal there is a shift to the personal and often bewildering view of the dream from the waking position.

When circumstances are favorable, the cycle can be completed by moving on to an exploration in an interpersonal setting, and finally, to an appreciation by the dreamer and his helpers of the transpersonal nature of the experience they have shared. To come closer to others is healing. This is the message our dreaming self conveys to us nightly.

[1] Trigant Burrow is an exception to this generalization as the following quote shows. Subjective feeling, indeterminate and unqualified, is in the primary organism, the sum of experience, the compass of life. Primarily the organism's subjective feeling is its all. And as with the growing perception of outer objects life enlarges, this subjective mode is unaltered still. Our primary objective experience merges into continuity with inherent feeling. It is added to, included in the subjective life. So that in its incipient rapport with the world of objectivity, life maintains still a fluid, undifferentiated, confluent mode. For life is primarily affective. In the affect consists men's common ground. In the subjective affect lies organic bedrock. Here in the common inherency of native feeling is the primal menstruum of our human consciousness. (1927)