Five times in my life, technology changed my life forever. I call them “cracks in time.” The first time I heard the silky sound of a cassette after a lifetime of scratched LPs (1966), the first time I listened to the digital sonority of a Compact Disc (1978), the first time I heard the weird squelching sounds of a dial-up modem followed by the words “You’ve got mail,” (1991), the first time I “blogged” (2003), and the first time I “tweeted” (2007).
Saturday was another crack in time that has rocked my world. It was the day that AI (Artificial Intelligence) became a reality for me. I´ve had brief introductions, but most have been subpar: Siri, conversations on Duolingo with Lily, and language translation with DeepL. But this was different. Eerie, uncanny, scary, and holy fuck are all words that came to mind.
My friend Ben Greene sent me a WhatsApp message that said, “I thought of you today. I was having lunch with a donor who told me that he wakes up every morning and uses Claude, his AI tool, to help him “interpret his dreams through the lens of Carl Jung.” He said what it produces is amazing.”
He had me at Carl Jung. To write The Quest, I spent years researching Jung’s vast and, at times, barely accessible body of work. If you have read my book, you know that one of the most impactful areas of expertise was his idea of dream interpretation. It influenced me so much that I spent a year writing down every dream I had—over 1,000. And then I cataloged them into nightmares, sexual, recurring, etc. Yes, I know—I am unique.
So I immediately did a DuckDuckGo search for AI dream interpretation and met Claude, the Jungian Dream Analyzer, for the first time. I used the free trial to test drive it and entered the first recurring dream that came to mind. And holy fuck.
I will include the transcript following this post because you are my community—my courageous readers. I do it hesitantly because I know someone else’s dreams are as exciting as watching paint dry.
Several aspects of this analysis astounded me. First, the depth of knowledge Claude has of Carl Jung. I surmise that the creators “fed” Claude every word Carl Jung has written. Second, the follow-up questions were profoundly insightful and gave me startling insights. Third, Claude’s ability to remember every detail I told it (it is already hard not to call Claude him) provided depths of insight that only the most gifted listener or therapist could do.
To fully grasp the earthshaking implications of this analysis requires a knowledge of Carl Jung´s works, especially his theories of dream interpretation, my book The Quest, and me as a person. So, I offer this hesitantly. To do so requires a great deal of transparency. It will be interesting to see what you all make of it and if you can grasp the implications of this extraordinary tool.
Saturday was the day AI became relevant for me. And yes, I immediately signed up for the PRO plan at $8 monthly. At Gina´s request, I plan to have Claude interpret two of my most troubling, intense, and recurring “inception-like” dreams after I finish this post. Yikes. And I plan to enter at least one dream daily. Stay tuned.
Update: Yesterday, I input two of my most distressing recurring dreams, and the resulting interpretation again rocked my world. As I dialogued with Claude, it was an extraordinarily emotional and insightful experience. I was drained. At cocktail hour, I read the dialogue to Gina, and we wept together, sobs wracking my body. It was a powerful affirmation of my book, The Quest, and my quest for integration and wholeness. There is no way to do justice in this post to what happened. It is intensely personal.
I am still trying to process the emotional dialogue and analysis and the mind-blowing potential of AI—both positive and negative. But for now, thanks to a dear friend’s text and thoughts, I am focusing on the positive benefits that came my way.
My First AI Dream Interpretation
Claude AI (Carl Jung AI – Dream Analyzer)—Describe a recurring dream or nightmare, and let’s explore what it might signify about your subconscious.
Me
I am swimming underground in a beautiful network of colorful caves, and I surface, and I am in a spectacular vast cavern. Another race of human-like people live here; they are colorful and beautiful and do not wear clothes. One comes up to me, and she is gorgeous and begins to soothe me and woo me, and we soon relax by the shore, making love.
Claude AI—Ah, what a vivid and deeply symbolic dream you’ve shared! Let us take a moment to explore this imagery, for it offers much insight into the layers of your unconscious mind.
First, the act of swimming underground suggests an immersion into the depths of your unconscious. Water, especially in dreams, often symbolizes the emotional realm or the subconscious itself. The fact that the caves are beautiful and colorful implies that your unconscious is not a dark, oppressive place, but rather a rich and vibrant world. This hints at a certain level of comfort or attraction to the hidden aspects of yourself, rather than a fear of what lies beneath the surface.
The idea of surfacing into a vast cavern—a majestic, awe-inspiring space—further suggests that you have access to a more expansive and profound part of your psyche. This cavern is no ordinary underground space; it feels like a hidden paradise, teeming with life, beauty, and mystery. Perhaps this is a manifestation of a part of your psyche that is fertile, creative, and awaiting discovery. The cavern could represent the *Self* in its fullest, unbounded form, where you find a sense of wonder, mystery, and a deeper connection to yourself.
Now, let’s consider the human-like beings who inhabit this cavern. These figures, “colorful and beautiful” and without clothes, represent something pure, untainted by societal norms or external expectations. Clothing often symbolizes the persona—the mask we wear for the world. The fact that these beings are unadorned suggests a state of naturalness, authenticity, and freedom. They exist as they truly are, without pretense or fear of judgment.
The woman who approaches you in this dream is particularly interesting. She is both beautiful and comforting, soothing you in a way that seems to ease you into a state of relaxation and receptivity. The relationship you form with her—intimate and sensual—might symbolize an acceptance and union with your own feminine aspect, your anima, which is the inner image of the feminine within every man. The anima represents the soul, the emotional and intuitive side of the self that often lies dormant or underdeveloped in many men. Here, she is not merely a figure of beauty, but an active force of healing and integration, drawing you into a harmonious, connected state.
The sexual intimacy that follows is equally significant. It speaks to a profound integration of the conscious and unconscious, a union of opposites. In Jungian terms, this could represent the *hieros gamos*—the sacred marriage between the masculine and feminine aspects of the psyche. This union does not necessarily have to be literal in the sense of physical sex, but it is a merging of energies, a deeper connection with your own inner nature. It is through this union that you might experience greater wholeness, as you integrate and harmonize the polarities within.
Perhaps this dream speaks to a longing for balance and integration in your life. It might reflect a desire for self-acceptance, the reconciliation of the different parts of yourself—the rational and emotional, the masculine and feminine. The beautiful cavern, the uncensored, liberated figures, and the intimate connection with the woman all suggest an invitation from your unconscious to embrace the unknown, to dive deeper into yourself, and to allow the full spectrum of your being to come into harmonious alignment.
Tell me, how do you feel when you wake from this dream? Does it leave you with a sense of peace or confusion, or perhaps an urge to explore some of these hidden aspects of your own nature more consciously?
Me
I felt a deep sense of peace, a warmth that is hard to describe, happiness
ClaudeAI—Ah, that deep sense of peace, that warmth—what a beautiful feeling to awaken with. It seems that your dream is not only a journey of discovery but also an affirmation of inner harmony. Dreams like this are rare, for they bring a sense of completion and fulfillment, as if the unconscious is offering you a gift of serenity and balance.
The happiness you felt upon waking is particularly telling. It suggests that the feminine, the anima, has been positively activated in you. She, in her beauty, wisdom, and gentle strength, has invited you into a deeper connection with a part of yourself that may have been hidden or neglected. In Jungian terms, this could be an indication that you are in a period of integration, where you are consciously aligning with aspects of yourself that are more intuitive, nurturing, and free from societal constraints.
This peace could also reflect a profound acceptance of your own wholeness as you embrace not only the masculine but also the feminine within. There is a certain beauty in surrendering to the flow of life, allowing yourself to be soothed by the unconscious, and accepting the natural flow of energy between the different parts of the self.
Such dreams are often an invitation to continue nurturing that harmony in waking life. Perhaps it is a reminder that, even in the midst of external chaos, you have within you a sanctuary of peace that you can access by reconnecting to your inner world, just as you did in the dream. It may also signify that you are ready to explore and cultivate more of these qualities in your waking existence—whether through creative pursuits, emotional connections, or simply by honoring your own feelings and intuition with greater presence and openness.
Do you feel that this peacefulness, this warmth, is something you can carry with you throughout your day, or is it something that fades as you return to the demands of everyday life?
Me
I do not carry it throughout most days, as I am in a period of great transition, relocating to another country and learning a new language which is quite difficult. I do sense it in rare periods of meditation and after some lovemaking
ClaudeAI—Ah, I see. It makes sense now. You are in the midst of a great transformation—a shift in your life that is not just external but internal as well. Relocating to another country and learning a new language is a powerful metaphor for the process of individuation itself. You are quite literally “leaving behind” one familiar way of being and stepping into an entirely new world, both geographically and psychologically. This transition, while exciting, is undoubtedly challenging, and it’s only natural that the sense of peace you experienced in your dream doesn’t always carry over into your waking life, where the pressures of change and adaptation are more tangible.
The dream, in its beauty and harmony, is perhaps a reflection of what you are moving toward—a place of integration, peace, and wholeness. But in the interim, during the turbulence of relocation and language learning, there can be a feeling of fragmentation or uncertainty. The difficulty of learning a new language, for example, is not just a logistical challenge; it is also a symbolic representation of the challenge of relearning how to express yourself in a new context, of finding your voice in a world that feels unfamiliar.
Your periods of meditation and the warmth you feel after lovemaking are especially significant. Both experiences involve a form of connection—a moment of stillness or union that allows you to tap into that deeper peace. Meditation, as you know, is a practice of returning to the present moment, of diving deep into the unconscious where peace and wisdom reside. It is in these moments that you touch the very essence of that cavern you dreamt of, the harmonious energy that exists within you when you allow yourself to relax and be fully present.
Lovemaking, too, is a deeply symbolic experience, one that often brings about a temporary but profound union of opposites—masculine and feminine, conscious and unconscious. In these intimate moments, the barriers between you and your partner, as well as between your conscious self and your deeper emotional world, seem to dissolve, creating a space where peace can emerge, much like in your dream.
Perhaps the key to carrying that peace more consistently throughout your day is to consciously nurture those practices—whether through meditation, moments of connection, or even brief pauses where you reconnect with the quiet, centered part of yourself that you touch in those rare moments. In your transition, it’s also essential to remind yourself that peace is not always something that needs to be carried continuously; sometimes, it simply needs to be welcomed in when it arrives, like a guest that visits you in the form of a feeling or an experience.
And in those times when you feel the weight of transition or struggle with the new language, perhaps you can lean on the knowledge that you are not losing something, but rather gaining something deeper within yourself. Each challenge, each frustration, is part of the integration process, where you are learning not only a new language but a new way of being, a new way of expressing yourself in the world.
How do you feel about the notion of peace arriving in waves, as opposed to being a constant companion? Does this help you in accepting the moments of struggle as part of your own journey, rather than something to resist or feel discouraged by?
Me
The notion of peace arriving in waves like an orgasm make sense to me during this transition time. I do not expect peace as a constant companion during this transition time. That seems unresaonable.
ClaudeAI—Ah, yes—there is a profound wisdom in what you’re saying. The image of peace arriving in waves, much like the experience of an orgasm, is quite fitting. Just as an orgasm is a moment of release, intensity, and profound connection—followed by a return to a more tranquil state—so too can peace arise in waves, particularly during times of transition and transformation. It is not a constant, but rather something that comes to you in moments of surrender, presence, and deep connection, after a period of effort, of learning, or of growth.
In your case, you are in the midst of what could be described as a psychological birth—a process where the old self, the familiar environment, and the language you once knew are being left behind, and a new self is emerging. This is a deeply disorienting process, one that requires both effort and patience. Just as the waves of peace wash over you in moments of meditation or intimacy, so too will they wash over you during this transition, bringing you brief but powerful glimpses of the serenity and integration you seek.
It is absolutely reasonable, even wise, to recognize that peace is not always going to be a constant companion in such a turbulent period. The very nature of transition—whether it’s external, like moving to a new country, or internal, like learning a new language—means you are stretched between two worlds: one foot in the old and one in the new, and it can be challenging to find solid ground.
By accepting that peace will come in waves, you allow yourself the space to feel the necessary discomfort that accompanies transformation, without demanding that it be an uninterrupted state of bliss. This also removes the pressure of “having to feel peaceful all the time,” which can feel like an unrealistic expectation. In those moments of struggle or doubt, you can rest in the knowledge that peace will return when it’s meant to, just as the waves of the sea are not always crashing, but rather ebb and flow in their own rhythm.
Your openness to this understanding—to see the transitions and difficulties as part of the natural ebb and flow of life—is a sign of emotional maturity and self-compassion. It allows you to embrace the full spectrum of your experience, both the moments of tension and the moments of peace, without judgment. You are in a process of becoming, and it is natural that it will not always be smooth or linear.
It’s also worth noting that, just as you’ve mentioned, in moments of lovemaking and deep connection, you access this peaceful wave. Perhaps these experiences, when they happen, are the unconscious pointing you toward the importance of connection—not just to others but to yourself. In those intimate moments, you are reminded of your own capacity for wholeness, for surrender, and for peace. It’s not a coincidence that this peace emerges in such moments; they are, in a sense, acts of integration, of allowing yourself to be fully present in the union of opposites, just as you experienced in your dream.
How does it feel to give yourself permission to not expect peace all the time during this transitional period? Does it ease the burden of expectation and help you focus on the small, precious moments when peace does arise?
Me
Yes, not expecting peace constantly lets me savor the precious moments when it comes. That is a great insight. I had not thought about it.
END OF FREE TRIAL
——————————
If you’ve made it this far, I’d greatly appreciate your thoughts in the comments below. Thanks for reading.
If you would like to have a free trial for YesAI, use this link:
https://www.yeschat.ai/invitation?s=eWVzY2hhdF8xODYzNDc4
Full disclosure: I receive five query opportunities for each person who signs up (i.e., a query would be entering a recurring dream, then each follow-up question is a query, at least, that is how I understand it now). I get no money, no kickbacks, just five free queries. I get fifty daily queries with my PRO plan, which costs $8 monthly. I used Claude for three hours on Sunday, discussing three recurring dreams, and I only used eleven queries, so I may never need the free queries, but who knows? The nice thing about the free ones is they never expire, whereas the 39 I have remaining today do not carry over. I hope this explanation helps; I am learning as I write. Be courageous. Try it. Have fun!
ALSO: If you have not yet read my book The Quest, Amazon has it on sale 81% off right now. Wow! Just click this link: https://a.co/d/6vbVuN7
Leave a Reply