I have two recurring dreams. Or, to be more precise, two different dreams with a recurring theme. I’ve been having them for close to two decades. I wonder why that is.
I don’t believe all the woo about my inner self talking to my outer self, etc. I’m not big on dream interpretation either, because everything I’ve read about it tries to convert specific things into specific meanings for everyone, and I don’t think that’s possible. We don’t all enjoy or fear the same things, for instance, so how can my dreams mean the same thing for everyone? That’s not to say, of course, that dream interpretation can’t be fun!
Anyway, I’m just writing about this because I feel like it. Not because I think it means anything, although I do find it interesting.
In one of the dreams, I’m drowning and frantic, I can’t make my way to the surface, although I never know why. There never seems to be anyone else there; no one holding me under, nothing weighting me down: I’m just fighting with the water, which is always perfectly clear or pale blue like water reflecting the blue paint in a swimming pool. I struggle for several minutes until my lungs feel like they’ll explode if they don’t get air.
Finally, I make the conscious decision to just breathe. I’m scared because I know it will likely be the death of me, so I inhale slowly through my mouth and nose simultaneously. The water doesn’t kill me. It doesn’t even knock me out. I can breathe under water! Sometimes I start swimming and find that I love it under there, where ever “there” is. Most of the time, though, I wake up with a gasp and my heart racing, the way it might if I had actually experienced a similar ordeal.
The other dream is less detailed. I’m walking along someplace when suddenly I see money on the ground. It might be a twenty, a fifty or a hundred. I bend down to pick it up and notice another a few feet away. I step over to get the second bill and notice several others. I start gathering them and shoving them into my pockets, but the more money I gather, the more I notice laying on the ground.
Suddenly, I’m stuffing wads of cash into a bag which is usually about the size of a regular kitchen trash bag. I don’t know where the bag comes from, but I never wonder in the dream. I just keep stuffing and stuffing twenties, fifties, hundreds. They keep multiplying before my eyes and I soon realize that I’ll never be able to fit them all into the bag. I decide to keep filling the bag until it reaches full capacity which it never does.
The dream ends or I wake up disappointed.
I have one or both of these dreams about three or four times per month. Weird, huh?