The Great Mughal – my first dream of 2020

The Great Mughal – my first dream of 2020

The Great Mughal

A game show in which the contestants and the judges, which might be the same, have to offer, as part of the process of answering a question, a part of history in order to qualify to answer the question and they have to do it in the moment of the question. I was aware that there were a limited number of dynasties of ancient Egypt to choose from but as I’m coming to consciousness it’s obvious there’s royal dynasties after Zero AD as well as before. There’s the whole Islamic period which includes dynasties which can be offered and, of course, many different countries. The sense of supply vastly increases as I wake up. What’s left in my head at the end is the phrase ‘the Great Mughal’ as one which can be offered and is offered by one of the judges and is accepted. 

After this dream I sat in the kitchen feeling ‘The Great Mughal’. I looked him up and before going back to bed ordered Salman Rushdie’s The Enchantress of Florence and threw in The Moor’s Last Sigh.

Turning the Blocks. Women Involved

Turning the ascending blocks for the Pyramid at the corners. Turning them by some clever move but also within themselves. Turning them over through 90 degrees by some movement within themselves. Strong women.

Ceremony, Little Creature

All the women are going to make a ceremony with the little creature, which mostly seems to be a young duck, in the fluffy egg thing. Before we do it he likes a certain something which may surprise us. It’s like the top of the cycle track down through the Heath. She lights the white, fluffy thing with a taper and they have moved to the side of the track in a huddle. I, the dreamer, am beginning to get a bit anxious that the burning is going on too long, that the creature will be killed

The shape is made of cardboard covered with white, downy fluff. It reminds me of the little goat’s white, fluffy detached brain in Sofia’s first 2020 dream. The creature seems to be many different things but settles towards a young duck. The burning from below reminds me of the Australian wild fires which are getting so bad they are requiring evacuations.

Duck-billed platypus floats in my mind, she of the electric nose.

The taper she used reminds me of the glowing taper put out by a rifle from 2.5 miles, which I associated with the arrival of consciousness in the dream.

Unlike the women after turning the blocks dream, who were strong and individually dressed, this group of women, who seemed essentially the same women, seemed to be wearing more like uniform filmy nightdresses, giving an impression of being more concerned with themselves as a group rather than the actual ceremony and the fate of the creature.

As it is associated with the world the shape of the object intrigues me. The top above the dividing line lifts off. It would be easy to get the duck out. But why that shape?

With 68% of the Earth’s land mass and 90% of its population in the northern hemisphere, the shape of the world is perhaps like my – hat box? (Goat’s detachable brain?)

It’s burning from below. And will all burn if we don’t act.

If the women’s (night) dress uniforms imply inappropriate group identification and self obsession, what does this mean globally?

In my speciality, dreaming, it could mean impractical female group identification. More impractically feminine than the strong block turners. Too groupy. Not individual. A hypnotic identification with fashionable beauty that is actually quite ugly. So ugly in fact that it is killing the duck while it believes it’s doing the opposite.

At the start of the cycle track down through the Heath. How many times have I ridden it, run it, going back fifty years, walked it the other night on a beautiful evening with Sofia. When she saw the Quadrantid bolide ‘half as big as the Moon’ as I was looking at the George Orwell plaque and we were passing the thought of him and the Spanish Civil War.

As always, when discussing dreams, endless possibilities.


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