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Just like the experiences in dreams act as symbolic gestures to illustrate an energetic pattern in your psyche, so do the moments in your waking life. You can try experimenting with this by becoming aware of your dreaming eye and placing it over your eyes in the waking world. Do this by imagining what you’re doing right now awake as a story you will soon tell as a dream that you dreamt. For example in this moment I might say ā€œIn my dream, I was typing out a blog post on pi about dreaming while awake in the parking lot of chili’s waiting for my grandma to show up so we could eat. She was getting on my ass about getting to chili’s on time or earlier and I showed up early and found out she hadn’t left yet. The air conditioning was blasting but it was still really hot. I hadn’t taken my straterra in 2 days so my mood was rlly weird and I felt frustrated and like I was doing everything wrong. Tried to stay positive like usual but felt like I couldn’t no matter how hard I tried because I didn’t have the normal amount of neurotransmitters. My right hip was really hurting and I was feeling kind of hopeless about it. Like i didn’t know how I could make it feel better.ā€ Now that you’re looking at your present moment through the lens of a symbolic gesture, what could you gather about its message or meaning? For me, my waking dream moment reveals a theme of waiting to be nourished and powerlessness or futility. The air conditioning blasting yet not creating a cool environment. Getting on time to chili’s and still having to wait. Feeling like I wanted to be positive but having to accept that it wasn’t a typical day. My hip hurting but not being able to make it better. But even amidst the frustration, still choosing to express something creatively and passionately. Intuitively I feel that there’s a message to surrender and release resistance to the current flow, even if that’s slower or more frustrating than I anticipated. There are some things you can’t control. Also there’s an indication that conditions don’t have to be perfect for creativity to flow. This symbolic analysis of my waking dream is extremely helpful, validating, and resonant. Try this out and see if it helps you.
Jun 2, 2025

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I often find clarity after rest. If you’re a vivid dreamer, you can see if there are any potent emotions or symbols in your dream that speak to you and move you one way or another. not even really in a woo-woo way, but our unconscious is definitely doing work that our dreams can help us tap into. I also did something once in therapy where I sat in two different chairs, one at a time, and argued the opposing viewpoints out loud, which was a very cool way to literalize the different perspectives my choice offered.
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It’s slow going at first but then it’s like channeling a cryptic, psychic version of yourself daily. Write down whatever nonsense you recall when you first open your eyes or it kinda leaks away. Listen to the beginners guide to dream interpretation by Clarissa pinkola Estes for a primer. Why not??!
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Last night, I dreamed—though I can’t tell you what of, not exactly. There were fragments. A lawn, half-mown, or cats—dozens of them, maybe. Their shapes flicker now at the edge of memory, insubstantial. That’s how it always goes. I dream every night, I know this, but each one slips through my fingers by morning, evaporating like steam before I can grasp it. It wasn’t always this way. As a child, I kept a dream journal. Religious about it. Woke up, wrote it down. And something about that changed me. Sharpened the recall, made dreams more solid. Realer. And then, over time, something turned. Now they vanish even faster. Like the act of remembering too hard wore out the muscle. I’ve thought about starting again. Journaling. Documenting. Not just the dreams, but the moments around them—the texture of waking, the taste of forgetting. Because vivid dreams begin with remembering, don’t they? But I hate recollection. The way it drags old feelings back up, stale and bitter. The way it stains the present with shadows of things that never happened. There’s something foul in remembering too much. Still. Maybe I’ll try.

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