My Subconscious Speaks

In this dream, I am an old white man, round and wrinkled, with wispy white hair across my bald, mottled head.  I’m a little like Mr. Magoo.*

I am on a junk heap, the kinds of mounds of trash you see on the news when they talk about the shame of countries that have whole families living in these discarded wastelands, making a living out of picking through trash.  I am on a small hill of refuse in a sea of garbage.  I am sitting in a wing chair.

Behind and to the left of me there is a low wall and a row of people stand along the wall.

One of those people — another old white man, but very tall and Giacometti walking-men skinny — steps up behind me and leans over to say in my ear, “Are you enjoing your money?”

I don’t respond, so he says it again, a little louder, “Are you enjoying your money?”

And I stand, take a quick survey of the trash around me and see a baseball bat sticking out of the junk.  I grab it and find that the end is broken, somehow still attached but dangling.  I look at it for a minute and then rush the speaker, rush the other folks at the wall, swinging the bat wildly, trying to club them, shouting the question over and over: “Are you enjoying your money?! Are you enjoying your money?!  Are you enjoying your money?!”


I don’t understand the dreams, I just have them.  All interpretations welcome!


* The part of me that was aware that I was dreaming took a good long look at old-man me because he was so surprising.  This wasn’t the first time I’ve appeared as a man in a dream — or even the first time I’ve appeared as a white man — but the first time I can remember being an old white man. I’m interested in the way my lucidity worked in this dream.  I didn’t change anything, just looked really hard at what was already there.  I was fascinated by the me in the dream, the round old man.


6 thoughts on “My Subconscious Speaks

  1. Dea

    Awesome dream! Love it when dreams make us identify with characters we don’t normally acknowledge within ourselves.

    I like the Jungian perspective…which if I understand correctly means that every part of the dream is an aspect of the dreamer. So in this case you’re not just the old Magoo man but also the junk heap and the small hill of refuse, the wing chair on top, the making a living out of picking through trash, the old tall skinny Giacometti man, the broken bat that’s still attached but dangling and being wielded as a weapon, the wall and the row of people both watching and being threatened.

    A lot to work with there.

    Big love and belated birthday wishes 🙂


  2. Wow, that dream!! This is how I would interpret if this were my dream:

    (1) Fascinating that you’ve become an old white man. Could you be on some level afraid you’ve become The Man, or whatever “old white man” (or Mr Magoo-like man) might mean to you?
    (2) Sitting in a wing chair on a heap of garbage: you feel like you’ve reached some level of stability amongst unwanted things? Perhaps unwanted things you’ve amassed in your life? “Unwanted” might mean unwanted by you, or unwanted by the world.
    (3) Second old white man: if interpretation (1) has any truth, you might also believe there’s a different type of The Man that you haven’t become and who might be, in fact, in opposition to you.
    (4) “Are you enjoying your money?” (WOW, this question) You have something that many people want. They resent that you have it. But you see it as so much garbage. You’re unable to defend it against their accusations. But you don’t want to give it away, either.
    (5) Swinging the bat. You think you can use the whatever-it-is (money, etc) to defend yourself against others, but you’re also skeptical that this will work.

    No need to respond to any of this if you’d rather not; dreams can be so personal! 🙂


    1. Wow. And a half. So much to think about! Both you and Dea have really pushed me to think about this dream. And that “Are you enjoying your money?!” just really strikes me. How does my dream brain come up with this stuff?


Your turn ...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s