Tag: mud

Another Car Dream

I had another car dream last night. The cars in my dreams are usually silver. They’re often sports cars, and frequently Porsches.

Last night’s dream was a little different.

I was in a boxy little car. Silver, it reminded of a Cube or Element, but it was neither of these. It had four wheel drive, flared fenders, and a powerful motor.

I was going down a hill to pick up my in-laws. They were waiting for me, along with their families. These were only living folks, and not the in-laws who’ve passed on.

The gang loaded into my car. Seatbelts were applied. Doors were closed. The car was started and a gear selected. One of my sisters-in-law said, “Thanks for picking us up. I really didn’t want to walk up this hill, but are you sure you’re going to be able to get back up that hill?”

I considered the hill. Covered with green grass, it was slick with rain, with mud visible in many places. Steep, as well, a ravine with a rushing stream cut through the middle. I agreed, it was gonna be a challenge.

But I was amazingly upbeat. With little thought, I threw the little car into a turn and went down the hill, developing a plan as I went. As said, “What are you doing,” I replied, “Trust me.” My plan was to go down lower to where it was flatter so that I could get a running start up the hill. My plan had a problem: it was much wetter and muddier down there.

I was undeterred.

Hitting the bottom of the hill, I threw the car into a wide curve. As it slewed around, I straightened it out, downshifted, and pushed the accelerator. Slipping and sliding with its engine revving against the tach’s red line, the car churned up the hill. Reaching the top, I slammed on the brakes with a grin.

Then the back doors, which were double, opened and I fell out. Landing on my ass, I looked around in surprise. An old friend (deceased) was standing there. He had a manual in his hand. He said, “I think this is what you’re looking for.”

I agreed with another grin. “Thanks.” The manual told me how to close and lock the doors so they wouldn’t fly open, and how to select a special gear to take me forward.

The dream ended.

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The Piles of Pennies Dream

Here we go. I remember three dreams from last night, but will only cover part of one dream. Consider this the highlight reel.

I had nothing except the clothes that I wore and had returned to one of the places where I lived as a child. A poor place supported by a dying industry, it wasn’t a hopeful place. Neither child nor mature man, I was a young man in my dream. I knew most of the people in the dream through the business I owned back then, but I knew some from high school.

It was sunny but muddy, and I was scrambling to cope with losing everything. As I began thinking that through, I realized that I did have some small objects. Collecting them, I started carrying them around in my hands. They were mostly watches, keys, and coins.

I knew I couldn’t continue carrying them around in my hands so I acquired a pouch. After I put everything into the pouch, it was full and heavy. Now it needed to be turned into cash that I could use.

The dream went off into a few tangents of me exploring ways that I could make money from knowledge that I had. Nothing panned out, but while going about that, I kept looking for coins on the ground, or on the buildings’ floors as I came and went. Finding dimes, pennies, and quarters, I’d surreptitiously add to my collection.

Then I realized that there were literally piles of pennies outside in the mud. They’d been swept up, or shoveled up into even piles. Everyone was walking around them, dismissive. I thought, they’re walking around a fortune, and they don’t know it. I wanted to acquire some of those pennies and turn them in, but I worried that once I did, others would catch on to what I was doing and start a scramble.

Meanwhile, I cashed in some of my pouch’s contents, including an old wrist-watch. It wasn’t anything special, but the man who bought it said, “I’ve always admired that watch.”

I then sold other things to a shop run by an acquaintance. Having money relieved some anxiety I was feeling. I felt like I could buy food and clothing. After seeing piles of shiny pennies that looked new, I went back and asked him if he converted pennies to dollars. Laughing, he said, “They’re money, aren’t they?” I confirmed that meant, yes. I then converted pennies into dollars from my pouch. Checking on the piles of shiny pennies that remained outside, I began thinking about how to acquire more.

The dream ended.

One area of me was appalled by the greed that I saw in me in the dream, hoarding the pennies for myself. While thinking that, I also recognized, I’m not hoarding them. They’re all there for anyone to take but the others are ignoring them.

Perusing old dream posts and entries in my notebook, I see that I’ve dreamed of mud, pennies, and watches before. Looking up dream meanings for mud, pennies, and watches, I cherry-picked some with positive meanings.

Seeing or stepping on a mud pile means good luck— take advantage of the chances that are coming your way. See Excrement, Manure. Toiling in the mud: success and wealth through hard work.

To see pennies in your dream symbolizes luck, especially if they are shiny. Do not underestimate your talents and abilities. Dreams of pennies occasionally represent a fear of being poor.

To see a watch in your dream signifies luck and prosperity.

h/t to e/dreaminterpretation.org

I don’t know what or if (if any) my subconscious mind or restless neurons were trying to tell me, but I elected to apply some cognitive appraisal and decide, it’s all good.

 

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The Shoeless Dream

I call it the Shoeless Dream, but it was an involved and multi-layered excursion featuring music, family, red ants, and strangers, besides the shoes.

I know exactly the shoes involved, too. They’re still in my closet, and I wear them once in a while. They’re a pair of coffee brown suede Oxfords.

Thinking about how long I’ve had them, I realize that it’s now twenty years. That amazes me. I can put them where I had them because I remember wearing them at work when I lived in Mountain View, California, and worked in Palo Alto, California. That employment ended in 2000, and I moved from Mountain View to Half Moon Bay in 1998.

I lose the shoes during the dream. The dream is taking place at a sort of muddy, outdoor fair and picnic that reeks of a dystopian movie set. The shoes are important to me because I don’t have much. Despite that, I take them off as I walk around. Then, I set them down to to something, forget about them, and walk off. A little later, after going through the fair – about ten ramshackle booths made of plywood, painted with white primer (sometimes) and sometimes decorated with a few Christmas lights, I realize that I’ve forgotten the shoes. I make my way back to them without problem. Finding and picking them up, I go on.

During this dream sequence, there’s a lot happening in my dream. I’m walking around a property that I own, doing a survey. I’m passing by many others who greet me. I’m busy and don’t have time to talk. I recognize aunts in the crowd. As I walk around, I have one shoe on, and carry the other one.

Once again, I put the shoe down and walk off without it. This time, a long period passes. I visit with my sisters, and talk with them about music, ending up singing Collective Soul’s song, “The World I Know” with my youngest sister, and then with my oldest sister.

Further walking around, I head for where I’d earlier noticed vomit. Passing it by before, I’ve decided that I need to go back and clean it up. I remember it was by the patio and go there, but when I get there, the vomit is gone. Instead, there’s a huge line of fire ants. Others are leaving the picnic/fair, so I warn them around the ants. Then I discover ant hills, and other lines of ants. The ground beneath is hard, dry and cracked. I remember that it had been muddy, so I’m puzzled.

Thinking about the mud of before reminds me that I’d lost my other shoe. Retreating my steps, I return to a muddy place, where the picnic/fair still goes on, but now under strings of bare yellow lights. I walk around. People talk to me. I know some of them but some are strangers. I don’t remember anything that’s discussed, except that I tell people that I’m missing my shoe, show them the one on my foot, and ask if they’ve seen the other one. Eventually, I find my shoe.

One thing that struck me as I remembered and posted this (very annotated) version of the dream. I was carrying the shoe and worrying about them because that’s all I had, yet, I was on my property, and inspected it. I thought the shoes were important, but I missed things going on while obsessing about them, and the world changed around me as I went back and forth with the shoes.

In a way, I think the shoes represent my connection to the past. I’m carrying them into the future, but it’s changing around me, and I think I’m warning myself, don’t get stuck in the mud of the past because the world I know has changed.

* All typing errors in this post belong to my cat, Quinn, who insisted that he help me type by getting on my lap and head-butting my hands, arms, and chin while purring, and sometimes trying to nibble on my ear. It can be very distracting.

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