Month: July 2019

Dream therapy works: Study shows diagnostic and transformative power of clinical work with dreams

In Angela’s dreams, there was always a similar theme. In them, she was climbing a mountain, an impossibly-steep slope that seemed to tower ever-higher so that no matter how hard she tried, she could never get to the top. Sometimes she met obstacles, weather, darkness, various elements that hindered her journey. Then one day, the way opened up. It was wide and clear, she felt strong and capable, with an inner conviction she would make it to the summit. This dream heralded a dramatic shift: an increase in agency in her dreaming life that was paralleled in her waking life. Recent research has shown this correlation is not unique to Angela. In fact, the ongoing pattern of dream life of clients in psychotherapy provides important diagnostic and prognostic information.

Nightmare treatment brings predictable shifts in dreaming patterns

In my doctoral research, my qualitative study of the way dreams changed for refugees with PTSD nightmares following dream therapy unearthed a promising pattern across cases. In these harrowing recurrent nightmares, the dream ego’s plight was always dire, the dreamer felt helpless, and would typically wake up in the most frightening part of the dream, about to be killed, kidnapped or in some way deeply traumatized. In the dreamwork, we invited them to imagine a new dream ending, and after this, the dream ego in subsequent dreams showed progressively more agency. In the dreams, the dream ego moved in reverse order of the nervous system’s response to threat: from freeze to flight to fight. Coinciding with this was a significant reduction in PTSD symptoms.

Study identifies the four most common dream patterns

A recent study of dream patterns as related to the psychotherapy process confirms this general progression. The researchers found that dreams generally follow one of the four most common patterns. In the first, the dream ego is threatened; second, the dream ego is confronted with a task or performance requirement; third is a mobility dream depicting some kind of journey; and fourth is a social interaction dream. Any of these patterns can get stuck in a repetitive pattern that the researchers found would coincide with some form of pathology. When the dream begins to shift, so does the dreamer.

For the study led by Roesler (2018), researchers analysed 202 dreams of 15 patients in psychoanalytic therapy and found that their patterns of dreaming corresponded closely with their psychological problems. For example when the dream ego is continually threatened, this corresponds with a weak ego structure, and as both the course of therapy and dreaming progressed, there was a noticeable growth in ego strength in both dreaming and waking life. For example, instead of trying to escape the threat, the dream ego might confront the threatening figures or actively fight, and ultimately succeed, or the threat itself transforms into something less dangerous For example, “In Case 5, in the first half of the series, the dream ego is threatened by snakes. Then in the midst of the dream series, a golden snake appears which is not dangerous” (p. 313). The author noted that these patterns of transformation occurred only in the cases where the therapist reported improvement in both symptoms and personality structure.

As dream ego becomes stronger, so does the dreamer

The relationship between dream patterns and the dreamer’s psychological health tended to move forward in predictable ways, and the patterns themselves formed a kind of continuum: dreams of a threatened dream ego would shift toward more engaged and empowered patterns such as journeys or social interactions. In general, an active dream ego with the ability to solve problems and exhibit agency correlates with psychological health in waking life.

What does this mean for therapists? The study demonstrates two good reasons to track and work with client’s dreams. First, the dreams provide diagnostic information and can indicate clinical progress. Second, working with the dreams themselves may be able to bring about the very changes the client seeking therapy is needing.

Dreams provide honest feedback to therapists

Jenkins (2014) conceives of dreamwork as an intervention in the dream life of the client. If it is effective, the dream life changes for the better. He wrote that “the dream work can then be judged by its influence on the next dream.” This gives the dream worker immediate feedback that is unfiltered: “It allows for an independent assessment rather than relying in the self-assessment of the dreamer.”

To return to Angela’s dream, the sudden shift in the dramatic landscape to something far less daunting, and her corresponding increase in agency and confidence could be viewed as a sign of success not just in the dream, but in the therapy process and in her life. Dream work that invites experiential connection with the dream to foster such shifts may be helpful not only in dream life, but in life in general, and the subsequent dreams can provide proof of success. If Angela next dreams of leading a successful expedition to the Everest summit, we know she is going to be just fine.

 

Jenkins, D. (2014). Assessing dream work: Conceptualizing dream work as an intervention in dream life. International Journal of Dream Research, 7(2), 121-128.

Roesler, C. (2018). Dream Content Corresponds with Dreamer’s Psychological Problems and Personality Structure and  with Improvement in Psychotherapy: A typology of Dream Patterns in Dream Series of Patients in Analytical Psychology. Dreaming, 28(4), 303-321.

Whether and how to work with traumatic nightmares: An example from Auschwitz

Many therapists I am teaching to work with dreams have expressed hesitation in working directly with their clients’ most challenging nightmares. They express a concern that talking about these highly disturbing dreams will stir up their client’s fears, possibly reinforce them and generally make matters worse. In a recent blog post, I presented some evidence that almost anything you try will be helpful; nightmares are treatable and should be addressed promptly and directly.

Philosopher Eugene Gendlin offered this piece of wisdom from his book, Focusing:  “What is true is already so. Owning up to it doesn’t make it worse. Not being open about it doesn’t make it go away… People can stand what is true, for they are already enduring it.”

Those who suffer from frequent, recurrent nightmares are already enduring them, so as Gendlin suggests, talking about them does not make them worse, but in fact tends to help. This idea was supported by a recent study looking at the dreams of those who suffered what is arguably the worst possible trauma: participants were all former prisoners of Auschwitz. Polish researcher Wojciech Owczarski analyzed more than 500 dreams of 127 former inmates and concluded that most of their dreams were adaptive on their own or had “therapeutic potential.”

Only 10 percent of the dreams were recurrent, repetitive dreams that replayed actual trauma memories; most had begun to weave in present experiences with the past, or were metaphors for the experience. Both of these kinds of dreams can be viewed as signs of potential recovery from the trauma. For example, one former inmate’s dreams of the concentration camp began to include his young wife, and he wrote, “There’s more confidence that both myself and my wife will survive.”

This research refutes an earlier study (Lavie and Kaminer, 1991) which suggested that in cases of severe traumatic experiences like the Holocaust, those who repressed their memories and did not examine their nightmares fared better. Owczarski found that while not all of the dreams of the Auschwitz survivors had therapeutic effects by themselves, “all of them seem useful and healing in psychotherapy, so suggesting patients repress their dreams would turn out to be a serious mistake.”

How to work with nightmares

So if even the most horrific dreams warrant attention in therapy, the next question is how to do this in a way that does not re-traumatize the client. In this, it can be helpful to take the lead from the dreams themselves as they are an indication of how far along the path to healing the dreamer has come. The man who dreams that his young wife is at Auschwitz with him has clearly come a long way towards recovery from his traumatic experience and would be able to discuss these dreams with relative ease.

In other dreams, you would have to be more tactful and resourceful to use the nightmare’s therapeutic potential. Recurrent dreams that replicate the trauma exactly demonstrate the least amount of progress toward healing – although they can be seen as a form of inner exposure therapy, a repeated calling for the dreamer to attend to the trauma. In these cases, forms of imagery therapy that invite the dreamer to continue the dream, and allow it to play forward have been shown to help.

Help manage fear responses

I believe that the key to working with highly charged material is to help the dreamer to manage their physiological responses, to learn to keep calm in the face of recalled trauma. This process involves establishing and safe and supportive connection with the client, teaching skills that help the client learn to cultivate calm and keep a safe distance from the material. For example, clients can be encouraged titrate: to work with the dream images one little piece at a time. They can also learn how to build an ‘observer self’ that is able to watch the trauma dream play out without the sense that they are reliving the experience.

There is more to this way of working than I can offer in detail here. The main point is that even with the worst nightmares, there is therapeutic potential and to avoid the discussion may well be a mistake. Chances are you won’t make it worse because your client is “already enduring it.” In fact, having someone accompany them into their darkest places demonstrates the danger has past and the trauma can be talked about constructively and healed.

 

If you are interested in learning more about nightmares and their treatment, sign up for my short, focused online course. Because I feel this material is important to disseminate, the course is always open, is self-paced, and currently discounted during the virus crisis. Please ask your clients if they have nightmares, and let them know they are treatable. CLICK HERE for a free PDF for clients: What You Can Do About Your Nightmares. Or check out our Short Focused Course on Nightmare Treatment using THIS LINK. 

 

Do we benefit from dreams whether we work them or not?

There are varying schools of thought about whether we can benefit from dreams even if we don’t work with them.  At one end of the spectrum is the notion that dreams don’t do anything for us at all. At the other end is the idea that dreams are a piece of unfinished process that moves us forward only when we revisit the dream. The middle road is the notion that dreams are useful in and of themselves (and there are many theories about why and how they are useful), but they are more beneficial if you work with them. If you don’t have a dream therapist, simply writing your dreams down, telling someone, and allowing dreams to send your musings down an unfamiliar path can spark new ideas and insights.

I fall into the middle ground somewhere, but personally have found dreams to be most beneficial for myself and my clients when I spend time with them and actively try to align myself in the direction they send my attention and intention.

A dream that prevented suicide

There are many examples of dreams that do their work by themselves, needing no interpretation or further exploration. An entire book,  Dreams That Change Our Lives, a publication by the International Association for the Study of Dreams (IASD), is devoted to the topic and filled with examples of transformational dreams. In one striking example, a woman who was planning suicide had a dream that she was at a friend’s funeral and Jesus angrily told her she had to give the eulogy. As she did this, she deeply felt the sorrow of all the friends and family attending, and forever changed her mind about killing herself.

For me, the transformation from a dream has mostly come in the context of therapy or working with through it with a friend or dreamwork partner. In a recent example, I dreamt I was trapped on a cliff, had run up a ridge with my sister and was trying to get down to the water via the rocky canyon on the other side that led to a small, rugged beach. We were on an island that was beautiful but with incredibly steep shores. My sister jumped down into the canyon where there was a brown leather couch – still a ways from the water, and I could not see any realistic way back out of there. But neither could I get back to where I had come from. I was perched in a small hollow that was sloped down toward the cliffs, and it felt like now that I had stopped my momentum, any little movement could affect my balance enough for me to fall to my death. That’s kind of where the dream left me – if I pushed myself back against the rock, as close into the little hollow as possible, I could hang on, but there was no way to rest in it, no flat enough perch to take my entire weight. In a word, it was terrifying. And it felt like there was no way out.

Dreamwork provides the way forward

I had the chance to work with the dream a few days later with a fellow therapist as part of a group exercise. I realized from my own work with traumatic dreams is that fear often narrows our field of vision, and we are not aware of all that is possible. I was dimly aware I was in a dream when I had it, but not enough to attempt to defy gravity. But I did realize, in talking about the dream, that there was another way to get out of my predicament: I could jump! I goal was to get into the water anyway – this would be the most direct route. The danger was in falling too close to the cliffs and landing on the rocks below, but it felt as though I could use momentum to run down the ridge and with momentum, launch myself up, out and away from danger.

Making the leap!

I told my friend how for most people, the prospect would be scary, but for me, jumping from a cliff would be fine because I spent my university years competing for the diving team. I wasn’t afraid of jumping from great height into deep water. She repeated back to me my sentiment about this: you know what you’re doing. The felt sense I got from this was, yes, be bold. Make the leap. So I imagined myself in the dream again and instead of cowering against the rock, I ran down the slope to get some speed and then launched myself into a swan dive, fully expecting to drop like a stone. Instead I started to soar. It reminded me of the one time I went parasailing from the top of Grouse Mountain, the pilot and I launching ourselves by running down a steep slope and then lifting off. I love it when dreams surprise me, and I came away with a feeling of soaring, of lightness and of being lifted up. It was such a different feeling from the way the dream had ended, and I felt grateful to my dream partner, and so glad I had a chance to move forward from where I had been crouched in terror on the cliffs.

Does this resolve everything as tidily as that? I don’t think there is anything tidy about dream work. If a dream is indeed alive (which is how I experience it), it is always changing. And there is never just one way to interpret and dream. There is probably a place in my life where I can’t quite rest, a place that feels precarious. There is also a part of me that feels the confidence of mastery, a sense of being called to do something again that I had once dedicated many hours over many years to achieve mastery. I am not talking literally about diving of course, my middle-aged body would have something to say about that. But writing is also a skill I acquired, and then honed, in my ten years as a professional writer and editor. Now I am writing again after a 20-year hiatus where my focus was on the practice of psychotherapy.

I feel like I did when jumping off that dream cliff – a sense that this is a familiar activity, a sense of knowing what I’m doing. It feels as if the dream is asking me to be bold and to be brave, implying I won’t drop like a stone, but will soar. I don’t know if dreaming the dream on and having such a splendid ending is truly a prediction of the future. But I can say that it gave me a lift, and implies I will be propelled forward by forces greater than my own if I boldly move forward, which feels both motivating and true. The feeling of soaring was a pleasure in the moment, one I can still feel when I sense inside, especially in my chest and shoulders. If that is all the dreamwork brings, it will have been worth the exercise. It made me want to sit down and write.

Personal dreamwork example: Evolution dream

In the last couple of posts, I wrote some suggestions about working with your own dreams, and now I’m going to give you a personal example of what I’ve done with an impactful dream I’ve been carrying around with me for the past month or so. Other dreams have come and gone, but this one has stayed with me. It feels like a big dream, the kind of dream worthy of extended time and attention.

Evolution Dream

I am driving my blue Audi (which often appears in my dreams) and nearing the peak of an ever-steepening mountaintop. I am almost at the crest and gun the engine but can feel steepness of the pitch is too much for my car. Just as gravity is about to pull the car back and down, I turn sharply to the left, like the perfect hammerhead turns my dad used to do with me in his little aerobatic biplane. I see a patch of grass about a mile down below me in the valley. I no sooner think this, when I am making a soft spongy landing on this bright green patch of grass. I have somewhere to get to, and ditch my car to start swimming toward a vague destination I imagine as a very exclusive cocktail party in a house perched on a cliff. My car follows dutifully along on the roadside, which is a gorgeous narrow European waterfront road with old stone retaining walls. I am swimming with a large, twisted stick that offers just a bit of flotation, and also slows me down, but I keep it with me because it will get me further in the long run. It’s getting dark and I still haven’t reached my destination, am resigned to get out, get in my car, and head back the other way, try again another day.

In the dreamwork with Robbyn, she suggests I don’t give up, but keep heading to my destination. Then I am Gollum, a small black lizard-like human emerging from the water at the base of the cliff on which the house is perched. I imagine starting to climb the cliff and as soon as I do, I am there, dressed up and standing in the cocktail party, surveying the view from the large front windows. There is a buzz of communication in all directions, many conversations at once. But then it dawns on me: no one is drinking. And no one is talking either. They are all telepathic and in the dream I think: I’ve found my people!

The dream gave me an expansive feeling, and I was content to carry that with me. This is what I mean by carrying a dream along in your body. At times I imagine swimming with the stick that takes me further though it’s cumbersome and wonder what that’s about. I consider the Gollum-figure as the earliest phase of evolution; I have an association to the idea that we evolved from the sea and at one point crawled up on land. Which makes me think the telepathic people represent the other polarity, a higher form of evolution.

I’ve worked with the dream for a good couple of hours with my dreamwork partner, and am very lucky to have someone so empathic, intuitive, highly trained and loving sit in the soup with me and my dreams. The process has stirred up such aliveness in this dream that I will keep working the material. I also recently attended the annual conference for the International Association for the Study of Dreams (IASD) and planned to don an aviator’s mask and scarf along with some webbed scuba gloves and a black hoodie to retell the dream as an enactment at the dream ball on the final night. I arrived late from dinner and the parade of dreamers had begun, so I chose to stay and watch rather than chase up to my room at the far corner of the 900-year-old Dutch abbey where the conference is held every few years. I did tell my dream to some friends at the ball, and again to my daughter. It seems that this is one of the purposes of having such dreams – to marvel at them, linger with them and then to share them, which immediately takes conversation to a deeper level of intimacy and connection.

In the future, I may paint the dream, continue to embody its most mysterious places, and possibly even talk about it in another dreamwork session. It’s clear I won’t be done with this dream for a long time, but it feels more like the dream is not done with me!

Work with your own dreams using ‘bias control’

In the last post, I introduced a few ways to work with your own dreams: by writing them down and journaling about your impressions and associations, by drawing them and by embodying the emotion the bring and letting it stay with you to mull over. There is another way that is so useful it deserves its own post. It’s a method called ‘bias control’ because it is intended to do just that: control for the inherent bias we bring to most of our own dreams. Although they always bring something new, we tend to see them in terms of what we already know and believe, so we are notoriously bad judges of our own dream worlds.

Bias control is an idea from Eugene Gendlin, who developed an experiential, body-oriented practice called focusing as a systematic way for people to sense into their body’s wisdom, and its responses to their current situation. He developed a method to let your body interpret your dreams, and suggested bias control for those wanting to work on their own dreams.

Dreams bring us back into balance

The practice is simple, but contrarian. It asks that you take the least-attractive, most aversive aspects of your dream, and experientially imagine being that way. This idea is in keeping with Carl Jung’s idea that dream are compensatory: whenever our view is too much one way, a dream will come that could help bring us back into balance. In his autobiography Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Jung gave an example of this. He dreamt his client was in a high tower, so tall that he had to crane his head back to look up at her. In fact, in his analytic work with her, he realized he had been looking down on her, and the dream helped set him straight.

In another example, a client dreamt about a good friend whom she thought was far too permissive with her dog, letting him run free in situations the dreamer deemed unsafe. In the dream, the dog is driving a car, doing a good job of it and having a lot of fun, but the dreamer was really anxious the dog will crash. She is annoyed at her friend’s nonchalance, so I asked her imagine having that more relaxed, permissive point of view, to feel what it might be like to have less worry. It was a good feeling to move a little in that direction, provided she didn’t take it too far.

Try being dream characters you don’t like

You can try this yourself any time you have a dream figure that you take exception to, and this tends to happen often. If you dream of an authoritarian prison guard, for example, you might consider where you could be more assertive or protective. If you dream of a meek, mousy little figure that makes you squirm with their obsequious nature, you might try out being a bit gentler and more humble. If there is an irresponsible crack addict in your dream, you might try on the idea of being less responsible, or where addiction plays a role in your life.

What happens when you take this contrarian path is that it leads out of your usual way of doing things. Gendlin said it doesn’t mean you need to become just like the figure in your dream that you despise, but that moving slightly in that direction might bring you something new that expands and changes you, and that this might be the dream’s very purpose.

How to work with your own dreams: Stay engaged with them

I’m feeling celebratory because yesterday I pressed ‘SEND’ on the very last step in writing my book on the clinical use of dreams. Happy and tired, like I’ve just given birth – which, in a way, I have. Now I want this long-term labour of love to be read widely, and to reach those it’s intended for. Hence, this blog, intended to help spread the word about the book, and to be a vehicle to continue sharing my expanding knowledge about how to work with dreams. I expect to be a student of dreams for a long time.

The question I was asked most often in the past year and a half, when I told people I was writing a book about dreams, is, will it help me interpret my own dreams? Can anyone read it, or is it just for professional therapists? Most seem to be wanting some dreamwork self-help, which got me thinking about what kinds of things might facilitate doing dreamwork on one’s own.

The first caveat is that I think it is always better to tell a dream to a partner or group because we can be amazingly obtuse about our own dreams. Dreams often refer to things we repress, and as we revisit them, the same biases are present in our attempt to make sense of our dreams. However, there are lots of situations where you might want to do some personal dreamwork: if you have no one else available, if you want to revisit a dream that is still reverberating with you, or if you have a backlog of dreams you can’t get to in your dream group or therapy session. Sometimes a dream just lingers, its striking images flashing through our minds during the day, and inviting some form of engagement with the dream.

Let the dream fill you up

There are many things that will open up the dream to you in spite of your inherent tendency to dismiss or overlook some key aspects of it. The first is to write it down in detail along with your impressions and associations to the dream. Then read the dream back and attempt to re-experience the dream, especially the emotion it brought with it. In sampling that emotion, perhaps ask yourself if this feeling is familiar or trying to tell you something, or maybe just linger in the feeling and don’t try to figure it out. If you let it fill you up, it will speak to you in some way that may not be predictable in advance. You can’t get the message by speculating about how you would feel if such a thing were to happen, but rather by having the experience in your bones, or your belly, or wherever it seems to live in your body.

You can draw a sketch of the dream. This also has the potential to quiet the analytic part of you that will prematurely try to decipher the dream as if it were a puzzle to be solved. Drawing a dream shifts you into the right hemisphere, the associative, experiential side of the brain that is better suited for dreamwork. As you draw, the image may speak to you more directly from the dream itself than from your written account, and surprise elements may creep into your drawing.

Both carrying the dream images and emotions with you, and making a drawing of the dream are ways to continue the engagement with your dream over time. The big, numinous, moving dreams we have are worthy of this level of engagement, and the process can shift and change, sometimes over a lifetime.

Nightmares are easily treatable, though too few seek help

Taken together, the nightmare studies presented at the recent (June 2019) conference for the International Association for the Study of Dreams (IASD) offer compelling reasons for those who suffer from nightmares to seek any kind of treatment, and as soon as possible. The studies suggest that virtually all nightmare treatments are effective, and that the earlier nightmare disorder is treated the better. Current nightmare research was presented at an international dream conference held in a 900-year-old abbey in Kerkrade, The Netherlands. In this post, I will summarize the nightmare studies of greatest clinical relevance.

Michael Schredl conducted a four-year longitudinal study on nightmares and stress and found that nightmare frequency is generally stable from childhood onwards. He thinks nightmares may be due to emotional regulation issues rather than genetics. He said what increases nightmare frequency and distress is a rise in current anxiety and stress levels (vs. trait stress). Frequent nightmares in the past also predict frequent nightmares in the future. In terms of clinical implications, Schredl suggested that for those who suffer from frequent distressing nightmares, the earlier they seek treatment the better.

Too few seek treatment

Sadly, very few people seek help for their nightmares. Kateřina Surovcová conducted a qualitative study of the experiences of social dream sharing of nightmares. She noted that only one in 8 people seek help for their nightmares despite their detrimental effects. People are reluctant to share nightmares for fear of being seen as crazy, and because they don’t want to burden others with the darkness of their dreams. Yet talking about nightmares can bring a welcome sense of relief.

Another recent study, a randomized controlled trial by Carolin Schmid which compared two established imagery-based treatments, showed that all treatments are effective at reducing nightmare frequency and distress, even the control condition! For the many people who leave their nightmares untreated, it might help to know that virtually all treatment options are likely to be effective.

Just one treatment is effective

In the study, Schmid compared three different imagery-based methods. The first is imagery rehearsal therapy (IRT) which asks the client to imagine a new ending to their distressing dream and then rehearse it. The second is exposure therapy, in which the client is repeatedly exposed to their nightmare imagery. The third, an active rather than waitlist control, guides clients to imagine a safe place. Interestingly, all three methods worked equally well, and all worked with just one treatment session. So, in treating nightmares, it really is true that any treatment is better than no treatment, and the resulting decrease in nightmare frequency and distress occurs after just one treatment.

Schredl noted that in nightmare studies and clinical treatment, the distress caused by the nightmare is the most important variable, and the frequency is of secondary importance. He said people’s attitudes toward their nightmares matters. This is another area where clinical intervention can be very helpful. I can offer a personal example from my practice, an approach useful to any therapist wondering how to approach a challenging nightmare.

Improving attitudes toward nightmares

The images in nightmares can be gruesome and upsetting. However it helps to suggest to those who experience such dreams that the images are not meant to be taken literally, and that they may even be refer to something dramatically positive. Popular dreamworker Jeremy Taylor saw dream images of death, for example, as indicating a major transformation such as the cessation of an addiction. A client of mine dreamt of dismembering a woman, and this image lost its disturbing quality once she considered the ways she felt profoundly divided in her own life  and could see the image as an apt metaphor for this.

In my practice, I aim to encourage people who have nightmares to explore them with open curiosity, and in the course of experiential exploration, to befriend the dream images as much as possible. This shifts the dreamer’s attitude toward their nightmares, and as a result, they can often find them less distressing. This is one way to work with nightmares; what the research suggests is that almost anything works. So as a clinician, there is no need to shy away from dreamwork with clients who have nightmares, and in fact, good reasons to forge ahead.

 

If you are interested in learning more about nightmares and their treatment, sign up for my short, focused online course. Because I feel this material is important to disseminate, the course is always open, is self-paced, and currently discounted during the virus crisis. Please ask your clients if they have nightmares, and let them know they are treatable. CLICK HERE for a free PDF for clients: What You Can Do About Your Nightmares. Or check out our Short Focused Course on Nightmare Treatment using THIS LINK. 

Posted in
Posted in

Dreams: Mysteries solved and unresolved

Welcome to Demystifying Dreams! I will begin by stating that to resolve most questions about dreams is an impossible task. Although we understand more now than ever before, some key aspects of

Dr. Leslie Ellis headshot drleslieellis.comdreams remain a subject of considerable debate. For example, there is no consensus on the purpose of dreaming, or even if they have a purpose, and a wide-ranging set of ideas about their source and what they might mean. Their ongoing mystery is part of what makes them so alluring.

What I can do is provide clear and concise information about what we do know about dreams with an aim to helping those who work with dreams professionally proceed with greater skill and confidence. This blog will also appeal to those who want to know more about dreams in general: how to remember them and what to make of them.

I started this blog because I have just written a book on the topic of how to understand and work with dreams. The book is primarily for therapists who want some clear and simple tools to help their clients constructively explore their dreams. However, since I aim to keep the writing concise and accessible, it will also be of interest to anyone with curiosity about dreams. I welcome and will address your questions and comments.

A sampling of future topics

How to recall your dreams. Often the first thing people say when I tell them I’m working on a book about dreams is that they don’t dream, or don’t remember their dreams. The fact is, everybody dreams about two hours every night. When deprived of dreaming, we will spend a greater amount of our sleep time dreaming until we make up for the lost dream time. Our bodies treats dreaming as essential. So it isn’t that you don’t dream, but rather, don’t recall your dreams. There are physiological reasons for this and ways to improve dream recall – I will explain these in an upcoming instalment.

Why we dream. This is a question that has no hard and fast answer, and likely there is more than one answer. There are a few plausible theories that have been increasingly supported by research. A popular notion is that dreams help consolidate memory, sifting through the elements of our daily experience, making associative links to the past and enabling us to retain what is important.  Another well-supported idea is that dreams help regulate emotion, which could explain why most of us feel better in the morning than when we went to bed.

Why work with dreams? The main reason is that dreams can facilitate more efficient therapy by bringing the conversation right to the heart of matters that concern our clients most deeply. They open up challenging topics that clients find hard to bring up otherwise. They are unfiltered honest pictures of our client’s inner worlds, and once we understand a few simple things about the metaphorical language of dreaming, we can easily help our clients tap into this valuable resource that too often gets ignored. (For a fuller treatment of this topic, see the next blog entry.)

Posted in
Posted in

Why work with dreams? They are a fast track to deep waters

Why should we work with dreams? For psychotherapists, dream work can deepen and accelerate the process of therapy. Many clinicians and clinical training programs reject dream work as too esoteric or antiquated for modern psychotherapy, but I believe the ability to work with client’s dreams is an essential aspect of a course of psychotherapy, and a critical part of any therapist’s skill set. Dreamwork is how the whole enterprise of psychotherapy began, and I can offer numerous reasons to bring psychotherapy back to its dream-centric roots.

I will begin with a personal example which demonstrates how dreams can facilitate more efficient therapy by bringing the conversation right to the heart of matters that concern us most deeply. This story will show how dreams can reach far back into our personal history and weave together experiences that have important features in common.

A matter of life and death

The subject of this clinical example is literally a matter of life and death. I was born two months’ premature, just three pounds and although survival rates for preemies have improved dramatically since the mid-60s, back then I was not expected to survive. While I have no explicit memories of those first precarious days, I know that at the time, there was no understanding of the physical holding and comfort every newborn needs to thrive. Instead, we were kept in pristine incubators and touched only as needed to meet our basic needs because germs were considered the biggest threat to survival. It was almost two months before I was deemed healthy enough to go home, so my start in life was marked by minimal physical contact and a deep sense of aloneness.

I had another near-death experience 17 years later. Feeling all the invincibility of an adolescent, I attempted to dive under a waterfall into a glacial mountain river. I got caught in a strong current that pulled me deep under the surface. Many years later, I had a vivid dream that blended images of both of these experiences. I was in a clear glass box that was caught in the whirlpool of a river, and when I reached out for help, no one was there. The dream brought intense feelings and sensations of that day on the river back to life and it put me in direct contact with a deep, familiar sense of aloneness. I was in therapy at the time with a Jungian analyst so naturally, I told him this dream. In that unforgettable session, we enacted the dream, and when I reached out for help, he took a firm grasp of my hand and met me there, reaching across the years and letting that newborn part of me feel his clear and solid contact. It was so unexpected it sent a shock wave through my body.

Working with the dream increases its impact

The work we did with that dream was probably the most profound of any therapy I have done. Yet if I had not had the dream, I think I might have stayed with more everyday subject matter. This dream took me into much deeper, more meaningful terrain and was a catalyst for change at an implicit level that is difficult to describe. Some impactful dreams bring about changes like this all by themselves, but sometimes, as in this case, the dream was the catalyst, but the change took place in the context of therapy. I would suggest that even if the dream itself is transformational, working with it in therapy provides a venue for integration of the insights and concrete realization of the changes the dream has the potential to engender. Dreams unfold in the telling, and can stay relevant and alive, and at various stages in our lives can reveal additional facets of meaning.

Clinicians who do not pay attention to their clients’ dreams are missing an opportunity to add a compelling dimension of depth, meaning and emotional authenticity to the therapy process. Other benefits of working with dreams in clinical practice include the fact that dreams are creative and engage clients in the therapy process. They point to our most salient emotional concerns. They bypass our internal editing process and normal defenses, and so are unflinchingly honest representations of our life situation. Dreams can bring a new and wider perspective on a situation that seems otherwise stuck. They provide diagnostic information and can be indicators of clinical progress. They help to regulate our emotions, and working directly with the feelings dreams engender may strengthen this positive effect. They can be a safe pathway to working with trauma. The ‘big’ dreams we occasionally experience can literally change our lives, and dream therapy can facilitate and integrate this transformation.

Much of what we know about how clinicians use dreams in their practice is captured in a meta-analysis conducted by Pesant and Zadra. The researchers found that while most therapists do work with dreams at least occasionally in their practice, the majority are not comfortable doing so because they feel they lack expertise or the necessary specialized training. In fact, it is most often the clients, not the therapists, who initiate dream work. The study also found evidence that dream work helps increase clients’ self-knowledge and insight, and increases their commitment to the therapy, which can be a predictor of good therapy outcomes.

Each of the benefits of dreamwork is discussed more fully in the book I have just written about the clinical use of dreams, and I will also address these benefits in future blog posts. However this post offers one of the most compelling reasons to do dreamwork with your client: because dreams allow your clients to take a deep dive into the things that matter most.

Posted in
Posted in

Slippery fish: How to remember your dreams

When I tell people I work with and write about dreams, often the first thing they say is, “I don’t dream.” Or sometimes, more accurately, “I don’t remember my dreams.”

We all dream what is in essence a feature film worth of dreams every night, but the vast majority of these nocturnal movies are not merely forgotten, but not laid down in accessible memory in the first place. Dreams reside in implicit memory and most of them slip back into this unconscious realm before we have a chance to catch them. But there are some reliable ways to improve your dream recall.

Flamboyant dream expression

Have you ever noticed that the vast majority of your dreams are not finished? They tend to end right in the middle of something that is striking or scary enough to wake you up. I think this is why dreams tend generally to have such a flamboyant way of expressing themselves – it often takes something quite dramatic for a dream to break through to consciousness. Some dreams are so vivid and engaging, we wake up with their images still resonating in our minds and bodies.

Still, it takes a deliberate effort to recall even some of the most fascinating dreams. Many dreamers have the experience of a stunning dream that wakes them up. They think, “Wow, this is something I will not forget,” only to find that by morning all they remember was the experience of having a big dream but not the dream itself.

Lie still, linger with your dream

Our most vivid, emotionally-toned and complex dreams happen later in the sleep cycle, toward morning. I find that if you are able to wake up naturally and have some time to linger in the dream world before you leap out of bed and start your day, you have a better chance of catching hold of your dream before it slips away. If you lie very still when you first wake up, the dream is more likely to stay with you. And if you rehearse it in your mind a few times and then write it down before you get on with the business of your day, you will find that you have not only captured this dream, but others will come.

The more we pay attention to our dreams, the more they are likely to respond back to us. I have worked with psychotherapy clients’ dreams for about 20 years and found that even those who profess not to dream were able to recall dreams once I started asking about them and talking in depth about the dreams they did bring. At first people who don’t profess to dream much might capture only a snippet or two and not think much of it. But even little scraps of image can reveal themselves to be significant if they are inquired into with deep curiosity and respect.

Write them down right away

To sum up, to remember your dreams, begin by taking an interest in them and going to bed with the intention of recalling them. Keep a dream journal by your bedside. When you first wake up, don’t move, but linger in the space in between waking and dreaming and see if you can recall anything at all from the night, even images or fragments that seem tiny. Rehearse what you can recall in your mind a few times – dreams are like slippery fish wanting to escape back into the deep waters of our unconscious. Once you have the dream clear in your mind, write it down, ideally before you do anything else.

If you tell your dreams to someone else, work with them in a group, draw the images they bring you, reflect on them and enjoy them, more will come. You will start to see patterns and appreciate their startling creativity and complexity. They are like an honest friend who is not afraid to tell you the truth, even if it’s painful. They can become your great ally.