The dream is… by no means a dead thing that rustles like dry paper. It is a living situation; it is like an animal with feelers, or with many umbilical cords.
At some time in our past, sleep was a dangerous undertaking. You’d lie down in your cave or shelter, and before many hours passed, a predator might come along. Many creatures do not sleep, or they sleep while standing, enabling them to wake and respond instantly to danger.
Adrian Morrison describes this paradox in his article “The Brain on Night Shift”: “Although our brain waves are active during REM sleep, we are physically paralyzed…, not to mention unaware of our surroundings…. We … are to all appearances defenseless, raising puzzling questions about REM sleep’s role from the point of view of evolution.”1
If the sleep state leaves us so vulnerable, why then do we do it? What makes it worth the risk? Dreams provide creatures with a chance to practice survival behavior on a mental screen. We can encounter a monster or enemy in a dream when realistic practice is neither practical nor safe. There we can have the courage to confront and learn from what threatens us. When we’re awake, we can apply this wisdom to our conscious life.
When animals sleep, the parts of their brains that activate visual and other senses are awake during dream states, even though their bodies are at rest. How often have you watched a sleeping dog twitch his paws as if chasing rabbits in his sleep? Athletes report that they play their sports in dreams in a sort of sleeping trial run, while writers have watched scenes of their works-in-progress unfold upon the dream’s page. I have performed surgery in my dreams and learned from the experience both practically and emotionally.
I had a dream on the evening of Father’s Day. In it I was a lottery winner, and when I awoke I realized it was a message about life as a lottery and how our five children and their families made me feel like a winner. As in this case, dreams can also confirm the things in our lives that are sources of strength and that are there to help us.
I believe the reason we sleep is not just to give our bodies a rest but also to allow a greater consciousness to speak to us through the symbols and stories of our dreams. I have had many dreams and experiences that have become personal guides and made me think about my life and actions and about creation as a whole. I have come to accept that, first, there was consciousness and consciousness was with God … and consciousness was God, because God speaks in dreams and images — the universal language.
Dreams and drawings contain information about your past, present, and the future you are unconsciously creating. I have had patients do drawings that included places and events that, as it turned out, were in their future. One drawing showed where a patient would die in an accident, and another patient’s drawing had specific details showing what her operation room would look like (see fig. 22 in the insert), even though the patients had never been to those places before.
In chapter 3 we discussed creative visualization. While listening to an example of guided imagery on a CD or one given by a workshop facilitator, we leave worries and responsibilities behind. The guide’s voice encourages us to go on a journey led by our intuition and imagination. Letting go of our conscious ego-mind, we enter a relaxed, safe, and creative realm where body and psyche merge. In the world of guided visualization, we are able to form bridges to the loving, peaceful energy that resides within us and that nurtures, heals, and promotes well-being.
When we dream, we go through a similar process, but instead of following the voice of another person, we become our own facilitator of imagery. The dream is our connection to our subconscious guide, our soul, our greater self.
The language of dreams is mostly pictorial, often symbolic, utilizing all of our senses and emotions. The stranger the images are, the more likely our subconscious wants us to pay attention. Dream images are all aspects of various parts of the dreamer. Often when you describe what was in your dream, you realize what it represents in your life or body.
For example, if you are under great stress from relentless challenges during the day, you might have a dream in which you are chased by an angry crowd. With feet too heavy to run, you flap your arms as hard as you can until your body miraculously rises above the clawing, outstretched hands of the people in that crowd. Flight seems the most natural thing to do. You soar higher and higher until you are above the clouds, and with a sense of great relief you feel like a child again, playing in the sky.
A dream such as this teaches us that we are capable of rising above our fears and worries. By doing so, it releases us and gives us the freedom to be ourselves and know that we can live in the joy of the moment. This dream experience of feeling like a child at play may also be a therapeutic message from an inner guide telling us to take a day off, walk on the beach, or begin practicing meditation or yoga and quiet the turbulent inner pond until our reflection is visible.
Our dreams also alert us to dangers that our consciousness is unaware of, such as disease developing in the body. As I noted earlier, Carl Jung interpreted a patient’s dream and correctly diagnosed a brain tumor. I have had similar experiences with my patients, finding many of their dreams useful in diagnosing physical conditions. When a patient comes in to see me and says, “My mammogram was normal, but my dream wasn’t,” I always respond with: “Okay, we’ll do a biopsy.” Over the years, I found that each time one of my patients’ dreams told him or her something like that, the biopsy resulted in a diagnosis of cancer. I learned to respect patients’ inner wisdom because it was always right. I know patients who had to see five doctors before one finally said okay and did a biopsy, which revealed cancer. I also know patients who died when they didn’t follow their dream’s warning, or when doctors didn’t listen to them and the patient didn’t persist and insist on having a biopsy.
Susan Hoffman shared her story in my last collection, A Book of Miracles. In her dream, a small-framed Asian woman with slender fingers touched the top of her right breast and said, “The cancer is right there.” When Susan woke, she found a lump exactly in the spot where the woman in her dreams had touched her, so she went to her doctor and a biopsy was scheduled. Days later, Susan went to UCLA to have the biopsy. She wrote, “I was put into a room in which the doctors would come in and feel the tumor site. When they left, and I started to get dressed, an Asian doctor came rushing in to say she was in a hurry to get to surgery, touched my breast, and said, “Oh yeah, it’s right there, the cancer’s right there.” Immediately Susan recognized that this doctor’s hand was the one from her dream.2
Years ago, when I experienced bloody urine, my colleagues wanted me to immediately go and have it evaluated. I was very busy and didn’t listen to their concerns or make an appointment to have it looked into. That night I had a dream in which I was sitting in our cancer support group, and we were all introducing ourselves. When it was my turn, before I could say anything, everyone turned to me and said, “But you don’t have cancer.” So I knew I was okay, and I was. I did see a urologist and had the infection treated, but it was done without stress and fear because of my confidence in the dream.
One patient told his doctor about a dream he had in which a beaver dam kept obstructing the flow of a river. It caused him so much distress that he woke and could not get the dream out of his mind. He even told his doctor about it during a regular checkup. His doctor made the symbolic connection between rivers and arteries and immediately ordered tests to be done. These revealed that the man had an obstructed coronary artery, a condition that, left untreated, would have ended his life.
Some dreams prepare us for difficult news. Andrea Hurst felt trapped in an unhappy marriage with a partner whose abusive behavior left her feeling depressed, powerless, and with no place to turn. One night she dreamt that she was walking with a crowd of people who were carrying signs and demonstrating about something that was really important to fight for. She grew afraid of the surging mass and pulled off to the side, but she knew she had to make a choice to either fight along with them or give in. She was aware that the stakes were high. Summoning all her courage, she decided to fight and rejoined the demonstration.
Soon after the disturbingly vivid dream, Andrea was diagnosed with breast cancer. At first she was tempted to surrender, but she remembered the dream and decided not to give up on herself. Andrea agreed to have surgery. She got hold of my books and tapes and maintained a daily dialogue with God. “As soon as I realized that being trapped was not my reality, but rather my outlook, I gained a sense of power back and my outlook changed,” she later told me. “I no longer felt like a victim of circumstances. The dream illustrated that I could do what was right for me, and it gave me the courage to leave the marriage. Once I left, I created a peaceful, loving environment for myself — one that supported the positive effects of my surgery and treatment.”
Another woman felt conflicted about the therapy that she and her doctor had decided on. When she dreamt about a white cat who revealed its name was Miracle, and who told her what treatment was best for her, she wrote it all down and got her doctor to follow Miracle’s advice. She listened to her inner voice, the wisdom of her dream, and years later she was alive, healthy, and well.
Many times I met patients who had seen anatomical structures in their dreams, although they had no conscious knowledge of what these structures look like in the body. One woman refused surgery to remove her thymus gland as treatment for myasthenia gravis. After many weeks of deteriorating health, she had a dream about a gray object with fingerlike extensions growing into her body. She asked her doctor what a normal thymus looked like, and when he described it she realized hers was not normal, so she agreed to have the surgery. When she woke, she asked her doctor to describe what the diseased thymus had looked like. He held up his hand, curled it and said, “It looked like this, with fingerlike extensions.” Her thymus contained a malignant growth, and her dream had accurately portrayed it.
Just as the artist loses awareness of the world as he paints on his canvas, during the dream state our analytical consciousness is temporarily set aside, preventing ego interference. Instead of interrupting our dream with a censoring thought, such as “This is ridiculous; don’t pay attention to this,” we sit and observe while watching the movie unfold on the screen. Swept into the dream world, we experience acute sensations, desires, and knowledge by means of the dream’s settings, actions, sounds, sights, smells, and even tastes.
Cathy Thayer was a teacher of twenty-eight special-needs children. She enjoyed her work and was devoted to her students, but the mental, physical, and emotional demands she took upon herself had been seriously affecting her health. At the end of her first year of teaching, Cathy was diagnosed with breast cancer. She refused to give up on her students, and despite undergoing chemotherapy and follow-up treatments over the next five years, she continued to teach.
One morning Cathy woke feeling exhausted and deeply disturbed. She had dreamt that hundreds of people had been camping on her front lawn. Paying no attention to her pleas for peace and quiet, the campers had made bonfires with her garden furniture, scattered garbage, used the lawn as a toilet, and created nonstop noise. “The campers crossed all my boundaries and had no respect for me as a person,” Cathy told me. “They acted as if I were there solely to provide for them. Catering to their needs was ruining my life.”
After the dream recurred several times, alerting her that she had not resolved the problem, Cathy realized her subconscious was trying to show her what the stress of special-needs teaching was doing to her. “I had not been listening to my body, so my subconscious decided to shake my shoulders and scream, ‘Wake up! Your job is killing you!’ That’s when I made the decision to quit teaching full-time. Since then my health has been much better; the cancer is gone, and the dream has not returned.”
Many years ago one of my patients was facing a decision about her treatment. She talked about a dream in which she had to choose between taking the elevator or the staircase. She chose the staircase. After discussing it with me, she came to the realization that her dream showed she was determined to rely on herself rather than use mechanical methods of getting well. While she knew the stairs were an uphill climb, she felt much better about choosing methods that stemmed from her own inner wisdom and strength.
Sometimes dreams save lives when doctors miss vital information. Ruth was being treated with medication for pain in her lower abdomen. One night she dreamt the same dream four times, each recurrence after waking and falling asleep again. In her dream, a very gentle man was holding a knife in a nonthreatening way over the left side of her lower abdomen. When she finally realized that the dream was telling her she needed an operation, she was able to sleep without disturbance. The next day she made an appointment with her gynecologist. She asked the surgeon to remove her left tube and ovary and her uterus. After the surgery, the pathology report came back showing she’d had a fast-growing tumor on the left side of her uterus.
Dreams can also open the door to messages of love, comfort, and approval, messages that cross the physical barriers erected by our consciousness, intellect, or ego. These dreams often acknowledge that the path we are on is the correct path, or they may show us a source of strength, in this way supporting and encouraging us on our journey. When your intuitive side knows the right way at a deep level, it participates with your consciousness, and the direction of your life becomes clear.
Shortly after starting the cancer support groups, I wondered if I did it for unhealthy reasons related to my fear of cancer and death. That night I had a dream in which I was a passenger in a car that went off a cliff; everyone else was screaming, but I was calm with the thought of death as a result. I awoke knowing fear was not my issue. Just as I became a surgeon to fix things and not because I enjoy cutting people up, my dream confirmed I was running the group for healthy reasons.
After her release from a psychiatric hospital following a nearly successful suicide attempt, Kelly began working through a twelve-step recovery program to address drug and alcohol addiction. In her letter to me she described a dream that portrayed strength and wisdom with symbols that were meaningful to her.
So much of my early recovery was shrouded by a barrage of emotions and fear that never seemed to leave me. But the night I reached six months of sobriety, I had a dream that gave me a new awareness.
I found myself staring into the eyes of a lion that looked as if he had swallowed the sun, such intense light emanated from them. The lion was surrounded by swirling deep-blue water, and beneath the surface his front right paw was shackled. A small lion cub, precious and innocent, was chained to the adult lion, and I felt a strong desire to protect it. Despite my fear, I was in awe of the lion’s strength and raw power. I was terrified and trembling, but I managed to release the cub, all the while giving the adult lion as wide a berth as possible.
Once the cub was free, I turned back to look at that magnificent beast of light and gold, and it reminded me how close I had come to the brink of losing everything — losing myself. I had been so ashamed because I had accomplished nothing with my life and had tried to throw my life away. But now I was facing my fears and emotions without the use of chemicals. I was walking the journey through acceptance, willingness, and faith. Saving the lion cub proved my courage and strengthened my commitment. The dream made me see how much I have accomplished in six months. Now I have nothing to be ashamed of and everything to love about myself.
The process of restructuring your life, of becoming an authentic person, requires that you see yourself as dynamic, ever changing, and becoming. I always like to remember that graduations are commencements, and that the Bible ends in a revelation, not a conclusion. Our dreams, such as Kelly’s lion, illustrate this aspect, and they encourage us to keep striving. It is the process of living that is important, that we all struggle with, not the end product or the result. Life is a journey. Rather than search for meaning in life, we bring meaning to our lives by how we love ourselves and how we love the world.
Sometimes dreams help us to let go of things from our past that are no longer useful. When Jean was a child, her mother died from breast cancer that had metastasized to her bones. Jean received no counseling or supportive help from the adults in her life, and she was discouraged from expressing her grief after her mother died. Later, in her adult years, Jean suffered from chronic panic attacks that left her paralyzed with fear and unable to drive. Since she was the only person in the family who could drive, it was a difficult problem that affected everyone in her family.
Jean decided to attend a spiritual retreat that was being held in a place where she had never been before. One week before the event, she dreamt that she went to a large hotel that overlooked a beautiful garden. A long staircase from the main lobby led to bedrooms above, and classes took place in rooms on the ground floor. A nurse came down the stairs and asked Jean if she wanted to see her mother, who had secretly been living in the hotel for all those years. Gripped with hope, fear, and shock, Jean walked out to the garden, unsure about meeting her mother again. Losing her the first time had been too painful. Finally she agreed to a reunion, and the nurse went to get her mother. But the nurse returned alone and announced that Jean’s mom had just died. No reunion could happen. Jean woke up from the dream sobbing tears that she had withheld as a child.
A week later, Jean arrived at the spiritual retreat only to discover that the hotel was the same as the one in her dream. At first she wanted to turn and run, but her curiosity convinced her to stay. On the third day of the retreat, Jean went into the garden during a break. A voice seemed to come from nowhere, telling her that for all those years, she had been holding on to her grief only because it was the last thing that connected her to her mother. Jean feared that if she let go of the grief there would be nothing left but a void. “It is okay to let go,” said the voice. “You have nothing to fear. You are never, ever alone, for I am with you.”
Jean did not tell anyone at the retreat about her experience. Later that day, she was given a slip of paper by the retreat facilitator. On it was printed the following biblical quote: Fear not, for I am with you. Since then, Jean has not had another panic attack. Her dream became her connection to the higher spirit who loved her and healed her from within.
Hearing a voice does not mean you are going crazy. I have heard voices many times, and they have always helped me to heal my life and emotions.
Claire Sylvia, the exceptional patient I first discussed in the introduction, had vivid dreams after her heart-lung transplant. Through her dreams after the surgery, she began to know the donor and to trust what she intuitively knew was real communication with his spirit. While this phenomenon has not been recorded by the majority of transplant recipients, many have claimed that they had postoperative memories, or gained new preferences, that originated with their organ donors. Claire was surprised when she suddenly wanted to drink beer, eat chicken nuggets, and ride a motorcycle. Some organ recipients have also, like Claire, reported dreams involving the donor.
Claire described the “most unforgettable dream of my life” in her book, A Change of Heart. In the dream she was outdoors with a slender young man, and they enjoyed being together. When it was time for her to leave, they kissed. She writes, “As we kiss, I inhale him into me. It feels like the deepest breath I’ve ever taken, and I know that [he] will be with me forever.”3
The young man appeared in many more of Claire’s dreams and, over the years, showed her things that helped her to locate the donor’s family and to confirm that the visual impressions and memories of her dream visitor were indeed those of the young man whose heart and lungs had given her body life.
Our minds and bodies are in constant communication with each other, and most of this happens at the level of unconsciousness. Because of this, I often advise patients to start recording their dreams. The body cannot communicate except through symbols, and while the symbolic imagery in dreams may be difficult to understand at first, with practice and guidance we can learn to interpret our dreams. By using imagery and recording our dreams, we unlock and open the treasure chest of the unconscious.
Dr. Gillian Holloway offers a simple five-step plan for gathering and interpreting dreams in her book, Dreaming Insights. She encourages the dream journalist, before going to sleep, to enter the date on his journal page, write a short description of that day’s events, and follow with a question that he would like his dream to answer. Holloway recommends that, in the morning when writing down the dream, the writer use present tense, which will help him to reenter the dream.4
One reader who tried this method wrote to me saying that, for the first time, she was able to remember not just one dream but three. Writing down and analyzing the progression of the three dreams upon waking gave her valuable insight.
Before I went to bed I was troubled by an undesired relationship split, and I asked my dreams to help me understand what I needed to learn from this. As I slept, I thought I was awake, and I felt a presence beside me observing the dreams. After each one, I woke and I wrote down a few key words with some difficulty while in my state of half sleep. In the morning, I remembered all three dreams in vivid Technicolor and was able to write coherently about what I had seen and how I felt in each dream.
When I looked at the symbolic objects and actions in the dreams, phrases popped into my head, so I wrote them down as well. In one scene I was walking on a path and came to a place where it split. On the right, I saw a giant fir tree, its branches covered with thousands of luscious new green shoots. It was so beautiful that I chose to enter that path. A line from Robert Frost’s poem popped into my mind, about two roads diverging in a yellow wood, as well as the significance of the green shoots, which promised abundance and life if I followed this path.
When I finished writing all this down, I felt as if scattered pieces of a jigsaw had been joined together, and I was able to see and understand the bigger picture. I realized exactly what I needed to learn from the recent disturbing events, and I felt at peace in my new circumstances. Everything is just as it was meant to be, and it is all good. I’m looking forward now to using my dream journal as a creative and fun tool for growth.
A dream that is not interpreted is like a letter that is not read.
Keep a loose-leaf notebook and pen by your bedside. After you wake, record your dreams in as much detail as you can. Write every little thing you remember, even if it doesn’t seem important. Don’t worry about the quality of the writing; just get the dream down on paper. Include the feelings you experienced during the dream and those that lingered upon waking. When you have finished writing, be aware of recurrent themes, patterns, symbolic images, and signs. Make notes in the margins and underline things that stand out. Do this for one week. You may want to discuss what you recorded with a dream partner or counselor. Did anything previously hidden become clear to you? Did your partner pick up on things that you missed?