There is this idea that people don’t want to hear about your dreams. Whenever I have an interesting dream, I call my friend Susan, who is not only happy to listen, but is great at interpreting. She’s an amateur Jungian and will remind me that everyone in my dream is me. Fascinating.
Tell me your dream
Recently, I called her about a dream I had in which my daughter and I got into a Lyft and left my parents’ house. (No one was home.) After a few minutes of driving around, we passed their house again. I told the driver to stop, I was angry. When I said, “Why didn’t you take us where we needed to go?” He just laughed and shook his head. Back at the house, my parents’ front door was unhinged, lying across the threshold, half in, half out of the house. The railings and a short wrought iron fence were disassembled and spread across the lawn and walkway. My daughter reminded me of the cats (!) and we wrangled a couple of cats and three kittens nestled together under a bush, back into the house. Then we set about finding screws for the door, railings, and gate.
Talk to your dream
Susan wasn’t certain how to interpret this one and recommended I ask the driver why he was laughing, since he was the one I was angry with in the dream. So, I put pen to paper and wrote his response. He said, “I laughed, because I had brought you were you needed to go. The house was coming apart when you left. You didn’t notice. You didn’t want to notice.”
He went into more detail, but I fear I may be boring you. (Perhaps I should keep my dreams to myself and Susan.) But I think this is a great writing exercise.
Whether you are addressing a character in a dream or a character in you WIP, this can bring up some insightful motives. It can let you see things you’re not seeing and understand that which you ignore.
Meditate for a few moments, placing yourself in the scene. Imagine the person’s face as you ask them the question you want answered. Write down what they tell you. Don’t stop to interpret. Just listen and take notes.