Ideas, thoughts or ideas that can be lifted up by your inner nature. Or ideas without feeling, dried up. The accumulation of time, the passage of time since you last felt or realised what the dream portrays. Also physical life ends in dust as the last example shows. So dust can suggest the remains of what was once alive or active in your life. It is what is left of what has died or worn out till it is tiny and can be blown away.
Dust is often associated with dirt, the debris of how people live, and of not cleaning up ones mess. It can be something that obscures what is of real value – or covers up the past – so depicting feelings that stand in the way of our clear perceptions.
Clearing up the dust shows you making big changes in your life – changes that needed doing for a long time. Dust swirling up can suggest that you are unable to see or realise what is in front of you. Dust thick in a dream house can suggest age or even long lack of care.
In some dreams there is magic dust that can heal of make real changes.
Gold dust can have such an influence. It can represent all that you have realised or built into your life from deeds done or words read. Coloured dust depends on the colour, but it is about bringing a change of mood and power. See colours
Example: We take turns spending the night at a dust filled place underneath a stadium or at home. We do this because one place or the other is always being bombed. I am upset having to move back home when T. asks me (for tonight) as I have all my stuff under the stadium.
Example: “You are nothing but dust. I have called and called to you my dead father. I have begged and prayed, and receive nothing from you. And now I spit on you and kick you aside.” Then, to my amazement, there beneath where the bones had been shone a beautiful treasure. It was not a treasure of gold and gems, but what we so often attempt to represent with precious metals and jewels. It was the shimmering and holy presence of Life. The bones and dust had been covering up, hiding this radiance. When I picked up and held that treasure I knew that this was my true inheritance. I had buried it underneath what was dead and worthless in my life. I had taken the dead shells of what had been living to be a value. And I cried out because I had been duped. The religion of my land that had promised to lead me to the living spirit of things had presented only bones, only what was dead, only what was without life and power. The idolatry of the dead had led me into worshipping a false God.
Is the dust a sign of age or obscuring things?
Is this all that is left of something – if so what?
Is my dream telling me I need to clear out the dust and cobwebs in my mind?