Dream
I’ve dreamt only occasionally for a long time. Sleep apnea will do this. Among other things, it prevents you from getting any REM sleep and so you don’t dream. I’m now treating the apnea and so the last couple of weeks have seen a lot of dreams.
In one of my graduate school experiences, I took a course in the work of Carl Jung that included some dream analysis. One of the principles of Jungian analysis is that your dreams are as “real,” phenomenologically speaking, as anything in reality. They are your mind learning from and speaking into your daytime reality. They are, in fact, a continuity of your mind’s existence. The basic practice is that you write it all down when you wake up and then work on sorting out what it all means. And you let that process unlock what’s going on.
All this is an oversimplification and I’m not here to write you a graduate paper.
Advent and Christmas language and stories are filled with dreams. Joseph’s dream. John the Baptist’s prophetic dream about someone coming along after him to instantiate real change. Visions of sugarplums. Dreams can often be read as anticipatory things — visions of an imagined future or revised past — hopey, dreamy stuff.
Last night, I dreamt about a past and some authority figures tied to it that I’m trying to find release from. This is about right. It lines up with a speeding ticket I got last weekend and an uncomfortable email I sent to my Dean. This isn’t particularly sexy stuff, but it is literally what keeps me a kind of up at night.
The work today will be to try to metabolize this stuff, to wrestle with it and draw it out, to replace it. It’s not going to go away unless I find other dreams to have. There are lots of ways to do this and this stuff is, in part, what Controlled Burning is about: metabolism. Today, my plan looks like doing some extended writing, taking a walk, lighting a fire, and working through some creative challenges. I started today by pulling up on YouTube some innocuous jazz music with the picture of an English pub, warmly lit, and snow falling in front of it. I did this at home instead of at work, trying to force myself out of the habit of being in the office over Winter Break when its only me and staff folks, and to start enjoying this home we bought a few months back. After some time out working with a new streaming camera for church services this weekend, the acquisition of some blackout curtains and one of those space heaters that looks like a fireplace so I can settle in for a long Winter’s nap of Netflix, maybe I’ll be good. Dreams will tell me.
Meditation
Advent is a time of anticipation, and our dreams are integral to this journey. Dreams are not just figments of our imagination but reflections of our deepest selves, our fears, hopes, and desires.
Begin by finding a quiet space. Sit comfortably, close your eyes, and take deep, mindful breaths. Let the rhythm of your breathing anchor you in the present.
Now, recall a recent dream. Allow the images and feelings to surface without judgment. What emotions does this dream evoke? Fear? Hope? Longing? Acknowledge these feelings.
As you sit with your dream, consider what it reveals about your current life. Are there unresolved tensions, hidden desires, or unacknowledged fears? Dreams often mirror our waking life, offering insights we might overlook.
Finally, ponder how this dream might inform your Advent journey. Can it guide you towards areas needing healing or change? How does it align with your hopes for this season?
Conclude this meditation with a moment of gratitude for the wisdom your dreams offer. They are a gift, a unique lens through which we can view ourselves and our world.
Examen
Recall a recent dream. What aspect of your waking life does it reflect or challenge?
How do your dreams influence your perception of reality? Do they offer comfort, insight, or disruption?
What steps can you take to honor the messages of your dreams in your daily life?