Author: Dr. Leslie Ellis

Dr. Leslie Ellis is a leading expert in the use of somatic approaches in psychotherapy, in particular for working with dreams, nightmares and the effects of trauma. She is the author of A Clinician’s Guide to Dream Therapy (Routledge, 2019) and offers many training opportunities in embodied, experiential dreamwork based on her book. She has a PhD in Clinical Psychology from the Chicago School of Professional Psychology, with a specialization in somatic approaches. Her dissertation on using focusing-oriented therapy to treat PTSD for refugees with recurrent nightmares won the Ernest Hartmann award from the International Association for the Study of Dreams. Dr. Ellis has a Masters from Pacific Graduate Institute and worked as a therapist in private practice in Vancouver, BC for more than 20 years. Her approach to therapy combines Jungian and focusing-oriented techniques. She was adjunct faculty at Adler University where she taught clinical skills and developed a trauma course for the Masters of Counselling program. She is a Certifying Coordinator and past president of The International Focusing Institute. For many years she has offered a Vancouver-based certification program for practicing therapists who want to incorporate focusing-oriented therapy techniques into their practice. Dr. Ellis has published numerous book chapters and journal articles on the use of focusing and dreamwork in psychotherapy. She has also presented her work to a worldwide audience. For example, she offered a keynote address for the 2020 online conference for the International Association for the Study of Dreams, has presented on nightmare treatment at MIT and was a featured speaker and panelist at the 2020 FOT (Focusing-Oriented Therapy) Conference. She also offers courses through The Jung Platform and is vice president of the International Association for the Study of Dreams.
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Focusing and Nature: Restoring connection within and without

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In focusing with dreams, I usually begin by facilitating a search for helpful elements. One of the most consistently supportive places comes from the natural world: trees, beautiful landscapes, animals, ocean… all of these images seem to call us back into a sense of connection we knew about instinctively as children, but may have lost along the way

“I deeply believe that we are all connected,” says dean diamond, a focusing coordinator-in-training who is offering a nature-based certification program beginning in March. Dean is a Nature Guided Focusing Oriented Therapist and Sandplay Therapy Intern who I have the privilege of mentoring as he develops his own focusing program. He said he has found that focusing allows both therapist and client to reconnect with our innate sense of connectedness to the natural world. When this happens, we become deeply resourced, he says, because we are re connecting with source.

I am reminded of the Mary Oliver poem, Wild Geese, which speaks to her deep connection with the natural world, and how universal this possibility is. Here is an excerpt:

You do not have to be good

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves…

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

The world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Dean is offering his two-year program in person on his retreat property in the Cowichan Valley on Vancouver Island, British Columbia to a small group of students. He wants to dispel the sense that his way of working is as simple as a walk in the forest. “You don’t have to go outside, but can also go inside, to connect with Nature.” Going inside refers to sensing into the body in a focusing-oriented way – which invites open curiosity and acceptance, a process that opens us up to many avenues of experience, including a reminder of our lost connection to the web of life.

Children do not see the natural world as an object, says dean. Somewhere along the way, this subject-to-subject connection gets lost for many of us, creating a disconnect and a sense of dominion over animals and nature that interferes with our innate sense of belonging to it and with it. His program includes modules on dreams, focusing, nature, play, social justice and sexuality – all ways of restoring the sense of deep connection to ourselves and the natural world, both within and without.  For more information, go to hearthplace.ca

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Nightmare Distress: How we experience dreams is more impactful than what we dream

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‘Mary’, a client in my clinical practice, had frequent, bloody, violent dreams and came to love them. She once dreamt of being shot point-blank but did not find this disturbing. The feeling in the dream, and in processing it after, was peaceful, almost spiritual. Another dreamer dreamt of scenes of her family around the table simply eating dinner, yet these dreams struck terror into her heart and left her feeling upset for the entire day.

It is often the case that the emotions present in a dream are not congruent with the dream scenario. There are many reasons for this, and many implications for clinicians who ask about and work with dreams and nightmares. The main point is that emotion is a key element in the dream, possibly more important than the imagery itself.

Images in dreams can be highly dramatic, metaphorical and even fantastical. The key is what they evoke. So when asking your clients about their dreams, always inquire about the emotional landscape as well as the visual one. And also understand that dream responses are something we can work with and change.

The words of Victor Frankl (1985) come to mind here: ‘Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response.” We can’t change the fact that our dream forest, however beautiful, is steeped in terror (unless we become lucid, but that’s another topic). However, when we process such a dream with open curiosity, we can change how we feel about it after the fact, and over time, develop a better relationship to our dreams in general.

Mary, for example, had an intense and loving relationship to her dreams, though most of them depicted frightening or violent scenes. And as we worked with them, we discovered that these intense dreams were particularly powerful for engendering deep emotion and change. This is why, as a long-term dream therapist, I look at dream content from a not-knowing stance, never assuming a dream is as bad (or good) as it appears. Instead, I accompany the dreamer on a search for cues of safety and support, and from this place of relative comfort, the whole dream can look and feel very different from the first impression it may have made.

A recent study (Mathes et al., 2022) into nightmare distress confirms much of this clinical experience I describe. The researchers confirmed earlier findings that the level of distress a nightmare brings is significantly influenced by exposure to childhood trauma, and acutely stressful life events. However, violent dream content was less impactful for the 103 participants with frequent nightmares than the emotions they experienced in response to their dreams, a result they did not expect.

The study tracked 103 participants, 59 of whom experienced frequent nightmares, measuring dream recall, nightmare distress, levels of childhood trauma, dream emotions and violent content, and distress related to current life events. The notion that current stressors can bring nightmares, especially for those with a history of adversity, was supported and offers an explanation for the increase in nightmare frequency and distress during the worst of the global COVID pandemic, for example.

However, your response and your attitude towards such dreams can make a real difference to the level of distress they cause. A recent study by Schredl (2021) supports this idea. He found that attitudes toward nightmares and also levels of neuroticism impact how nightmares affect us. But while we can’t change our history of adversity or alter many of life’s stressors, we can change our attitudes and responses toward our dreams. The more we learn and understand about nightmares, and the more we can turn toward our dreams with calm curiosity, the less they are likely to cause distress.

The conclusion Mathes reached about nightmare distress is that “emotional appraisal has a substantial influence on nightmares. This suggests that dreamers can influence dream experiences due to their reappraisal during the dream and probably also in waking life.” My substantial clinical experience working with nightmares suggests that latter is true and may affect the former. In other words, if we befriend our dreams in waking life, we are also more likely to do so within the dreams themselves.

For example, in a few nightmare treatment sessions, I invited ‘Paula’, who experienced frequent recurring nightmares, to gather up any helpful elements she could find in her dreams. She then began to do this from within the dreams. Her nightmares were always harrowing chase scenes, but as she became more curious and comfortable with them, she developed superpowers within the dreams, such as the ability to fly away or disappear. More importantly her feelings around the dreams shifted from abject terror to a sense of adventure. And while the content of these recurring dreams still often begins in similar way, her response, both within and after the dream, has shifted to the point where she would no longer call these dreams nightmares.

 

References

Frankl, V. E. (1985). Man’s search for meaning. Simon and Schuster.

Mathes, J., Schuffelen, J., Gieselmann, A., & Pietrowsky, R. (2022). Nightmare distress is related to traumatic childhood experiences, critical life events and emotional appraisal of a dream rather than to its content. Journal of Sleep Research, e13779.

Schredl, M. (2021). Nightmare distress, beliefs about nightmares, and personality. Imagination, Cognition and Personality, 40, 177-188.

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Dreams as Doorways to Possibility

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Dreams as Doorways to Possibility:
Four ways to open up even the smallest of dreams

Have you ever been stumped by a dream? Likely all of us have experienced genuine puzzlement when we wake up with a dream image that seems utterly mysterious, too wispy to follow or simply nonsensical. We are apt to dismiss such dreams as nonsense, or as not profound enough to warrant our attention. However, if you consider dreams as openings for further exploration, every dream is worthy of our attention.

In my year-long experiential dreamwork program, I always spend a session exploring dream ‘snippets’ as a way to illustrate how much can come of mere wisps of dreams. It helps to consider a dream as a doorway to a much larger world of experience. Or like the thread from the Greek myth by which Ariadne left a trail enabling her lover to escape the maze of the Minotaur. The end of the thread, the snippet, does not give us the whole picture, but rather, a way forward. The destination is not yet known, but ultimately might lead to greater freedom.

In this article, I offer a few different ways that you can explore any dream, big or small, in a way that opens to new possibilities.

Dreams as picture-metaphors for emotion
My dreams often come as single images without much of a story. They can be a simple picture, and for the person guiding me in a dream process, it may feel like there isn’t enough to work with. For example, I dreamt of an old-fashioned pair of crossed wooden skis. Considering Ernest Hartmann’s idea that dreams are metaphors for salient feelings, already something opens up. There is a sense of motion that is stopped, possibly because of an outdated way of doing things, or maybe because I am ‘cross’. Yes, I can feel some old anger I hadn’t realized was present…

The other thing that occurs to me is that these skis can still work and have served someone very well. They have been well-used, and I sense, well-loved. In Hartmann’s way of working, this feeling might correspond to something current and salient in my life, so further inquiry could head in that direction.

Dreams as bringing a bodily felt sense
Another way to deepen understanding of any dream image is to try a focusing approach, as offered by Eugene Gendlin. This involves getting a bodily felt sense of the image, and letting it open up from the inside. Like Ariadne’s thread, such a process can lead to new territory entirely, with the image as the starting place.

A felt sense of the skis, for example, takes me to a crossed place in my chest, but also an awareness of potential movement. The skis, of their own accord, want to uncross and be placed on the snow. Their essence speaks of forward motion and speed. I begin to feel an expansive sense in my chest, and am infused with enlivening memories of my cross-country skiing exploits. Rather than get lost in those, I go back to the felt sense (which is what I would do if I were guiding a dreamer here). I’m getting a message that feels like an unblocking, an opening and a sense that the way forward is available, and both awkward (old skis) and exhilarating.

Dreams as doorways
Carrying this little image forward in another way, I might explore the environment of the dream, and then venture out into it. This is a Jungian approach, called active imagination. You can take any dream image as a place to begin and then open up the setting or dream landscape.

My skis seem to be in the wall of a rustic cabin, and there is a sense that it might be an earlier time. These skis are not obsolete, but in fact, more an essential means of getting somewhere. There are now some old-fashioned boots and poles are nearby, and I see a skier breaking trail through a foot of fresh snow. The trail is flat, wooded, and inviting. There is the sense of a journey, but one the skier is very prepared for. In exploring this dream image, we can follow this trail as far as we like, potentially meeting challenges and helpful characters along the way.

Associating to dream images
The last opening I will suggest here is that of association. This is a more traditional way of exploring dream images, and one that I tend to use lightly. This is because the process of asking what memories or stories from our life are brought to mind by a dream image can sometimes lead us away from the essence of the image and into webs of memory that limit rather than open what we experience from the dream.

Associations to the skis are of fancy cabins that hang such skis on the wall as decoration. I also recall a pair of leather ski boots my dad used to own, and a childhood memory of trying to ski on flat ground in huge old skis and not getting very far. I also associate to skiing in general, which I love. To me, these images feel less generative than the methods listed above that open up the image via experiencing and imagination. Such is my personal bias. Associations can also be powerful.

My suggestion is to try any of these methods that appeal to you. Next time you wake up with a puzzling dream image or snippet, one you are tempted to dismiss, play with these avenues. Or if a client brings a dream that feels too thin and unsubstantial, try these ways of helping them to use the image as a leaping off place to a world of possibility.

DREAM CIRCLE Dec. 4: Dreams as doorways to possibility
Our last Dream Circle of 2022 will focus on imaginative and experiential ways that even the smallest of dreams can open the dreamer up to possibility. See the article above for a fuller description of the avenues we will explore as a group. This group is open to all graduates of my experiential dreamwork and focusing programs. More info here.

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Dreams as a picture of the nervous system

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Dreams as a picture of the nervous system, and an avenue for state shifts

It’s beginning to dawn on me that not just nightmares, but all dreams can be seen as an expression of the nervous system. They are images direct from the body, far less filtered by our internal censor than waking thoughts — they are more image-based, more visceral and fluid. Spending time with our dream images in a calm and curious way can be inherently regulating, and I am beginning to suspect why this is so.

The late Ernest Hartmann, a celebrated dreamworker and researcher, said two things that I want to follow up on in this context. The first is, “The nightmare is the most useful dream.” This is not meant to dismiss the real distress and terror that our worst dreams can bring. It’s that nightmares represent an extreme state, and as such, one that we can learn the most from.

Linking nightmares and the nervous system

I’ve spent the last couple of years investigating the link between nightmares and the autonomic nervous system (ANS) through the lens of polyvagal theory. Although I think the implications of this for nightmare formation and treatment are still largely unexplored, I started this ball rolling with the recent publication of an article with the optimistic title, Solving the Nightmare Mystery in which I imply that the role of the nervous system is a missing link in our understanding of how to treat nightmares (Ellis, 2022).

I have been sitting with those who experience deeply disturbing dreams for many years now, one of the main things I do to help is facilitate the search for, and embodiment of, cues of safety that help alter their perception and experience of these dreams. They tell me this embodied process of dreaming their dreams forward (called ‘rescripting’ in modern nightmare treatment literature), changes how they hold the dream in their body. Typically, the memory remains, but the charge dissipates, after a successful session.

Nightmares are dramatic, and there is clear autonomic activation during sleep state shifts for those who experience them frequently. Nightmares are easily recalled and their impact is tangibly felt, as is the relief one experiences when they begin to fade or shift into a more benign form. This is useful because when a phenomenon is loud and colorful, we can more easily see it.

Dream images as nervous system state and shifts

However, in a recent class I teach on the clinical use of dreams, a dreamer brought an image of a dark, still woman in a tub that had sat so long the water had gone cold. Her impulse, in dreaming this forward, was to turn on the hot water faucet, to bring some warmth to the bath and to the woman’s body. Entering the dream further, she noticed the tub itself, and it was older, more ornate and beautiful than the one is her current bathroom, where the dream was set. Her own demeanor changed in this process or warming the bath, her face coloring and smiling as she described making the bath a sanctuary, adding scent and oil and dipping into the enjoyment of it. Later, she told me the shifts continued in the coming days: “I continued to experience “mini shifts” in the following days and was able to access and carry the felt sense of the warmth and beauty of the bath into many areas of my daily life. I noticed I feel more present when I bring a sense of aesthetics, in the form of a little beautifying and warming detail, when I have to tackle some of the mundane daily tasks and responsibilities, which were weighing me down lately.”

This entire dream process could be seen as an image of the nervous system as it shifted from a cold, immobilized (dorsal vagal) state, into one of connection and animation that was clearly visible on her face. Her fellow classmates remarked on the change, as her physiology demonstrated a clear shift into a state of social engagement and warmth (ventral vagal). This kind of shift is typical in working with dreams. The images from nightmares are clear representations of autonomic states. Activation or fight/flight – being chased or engaged in a battle – are some of the most prevalent nightmare themes. The leap I have made is simply that nightmares are the most obvious expression of what happens in all dreams. They are our bodies expressing in image and sensation our fluctuating internal state. They are doorway into its expression, particularly valuable for those who have trouble hearing what’s going inside.

Dreamwork as a way to metabolize and regulate emotion

This brings me to another of Hartmann’s famous statements: that dreams are a ‘picture-metaphors’ for our most salient emotional concerns. Sometimes our most pressing feelings are repressed, historic or fleeting enough that we don’t think about them during the day. But our dreams have an uncanny way of picturing what matters most, even if we have repressed it. Our bodies carry the charge of feelings and memories that are unmetabolized, and these find expression in our dreams.

My sense, which is shared with many dreamworkers and researchers, is that a purpose of dreaming about emotion is not to upset us but to help us process and shift such feelings. Sometimes, the dreams do this all on their own, like a nocturnal therapist, and sometimes it really helps to have another person process the dreams with us. One idea that attention to the nervous system and polyvagal theory has taught us is that we humans (and all mammals) function better together than alone. Sharing our dreams and bringing them into company and the light of day helps them do their job better. And more and more, I’m beginning to think that a large part of their job is expressing and regulating the state of our nervous system.

 

References

Ellis, L. A. (2022). Solving the nightmare mystery: The autonomic nervous system as missing link in the aetiology and treatment of nightmares. Dreaming.

Hartmann, E. (1999). The nightmare is the most useful dream. Sleep and Hypnosis, 1(4), 199-203.

Hartmann, E. (2010). The dream always makes new connections: the dream is a creation, not a replay. Sleep Medicine Clinics, 5(2), 241-248.

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Nightmares Quadruple Adolescent Suicide Risk

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Nightmares quadruple suicide risk in youth, yet overlooked by most clinicians

Scary dreams are common among children, and possibly it is for this reason that they are often overlooked by clinicians. In fact, frequent nightmares can indicate a life-threatening state. It has been well established that nightmares are robustly linked with higher suicide risk in adults, and a recent study has extended this to adolescents.

Children with frequent nightmares are twice as likely to consider suicide and four times more likely to attempt it than kids with fewer nightmares. It’s normal in childhood to have some nightmares, but frequent, chronic, distressing dreams indicate nightmare disorder, which warrants clinical attention, something too few nightmare sufferers receive.

 

Clinicians drastically underestimate nightmare prevalence

In a recent study, Corner and colleagues (2022) looked at reported rates of nightmare disorder among 806 child psychiatric outpatients, asking both children and their parents about prevalence of nightmares. The researchers found that parents reported 40 percent of these children had nightmares, while 56 percent of the children said they had experienced a nightmare the previous week. Of these children, just 12 (0.01%) had been diagnosed with nightmare disorder, and 16% were given a posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) diagnosis. It appears parents underestimate the prevalence of their childrens’ nightmares by a little, and clinicians underestimate by a lot – if they consider nightmares at all.

The researchers found that very few children in this sample with chronic nightmares had been identified, yet many families expressed desire for treatment for their children. Their conclusion: “We join with researchers of adult populations in calling for routine screening of nightmares.”

A recent systematic review of the prevalence of nightmares in youth found that in clinical populations, 27% to 57% reported nightmares in the previous week and 18% to 22% in the previous month (El Sabbagh et al., under review). By contrast, 1% to 11% of those without a clinical diagnosis reported having a nightmare in the previous week, and 25% to 35% in the past month. Clearly, nightmares are highly prevalent in those children with mental health concerns.

 

Childrens’ nightmares are highly prevalent, mostly undiagnosed, yet treatable

The hard part of this story is that so many of those with nightmare disorder are undetected and therefore untreated, despite the availability of effective therapies. For example, a recent study looked at treatment of childrens’ nightmares using a sample of 17 children aged 5 to 17. While the researchers were exploring some of the nuances of such treatment, the first important point is that the treatment was effective, with high effect sizes across the board.

The sample was too small to draw firm conclusions about the efficacy of the treatment used – five cognitive-based sessions, including psychoeducation and rewriting the nightmare. However, it does support the considerable evidence that nightmares are treatable.

In this particular study, Pangelinan and colleagues (2022) wanted to know which was reduced first during treatment: nightmare frequency or distress. Because the distress caused by nightmares is considered a driving force in recurrent dreams, the researchers expected distress to drop before frequency, but found the opposite to be the case. Yet both factors were steadily reduced over time, after an initial spike in the distress levels, possibly caused by focusing on the nightmares more than usual.

What makes nightmare treatment effective continues to be a bit of a puzzle and potentially many factors contribute to the success of treatment. I suggest, in my recent article on nightmares and the nervous system (Ellis, 2022), that it is a sense of safety at a physiological level that could underlie nightmare treatment success, and this can be achieved in many ways. Some of these factors are alluded to by Pagelinan: “The steady decline of nightmare frequency and distress over time supports the idea that nightmare treatment is not about an on-off switch of sorts but rather a process by which different skills that address efficacy, hope, relaxation, and sleep skills, in addition to the emotion processing of a nightmare through exposure and rescription, may be important in nightmare treatments.”

The main point here is that while there are many more things to understand about how to treat nightmares, we know enough already to make a real difference. The larger problem we currently face is lack of awareness that nightmares are so prevalent in the clinical population, and that they represent both risk and opportunity.

I am offering a more comprehensive course for clinicians called The Nightmare Treatment Imperative.  Learn why treating nightmares is both essential and surprisingly simple.

 

References

Cromer, L. D., Stimson, J. R., Rischard, M. E., & Buck, T. R. (2022). Nightmare prevalence in an outpatient pediatric psychiatry population: A brief report. Dreaming. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1037/drm0000225

Ellis, L. A. (2022). Solving the nightmare mystery: The autonomic nervous system as missing link in the aetiology and treatment of nightmares. Dreaming.

Pangelinan, B., Rischard, M. E., & Cromer, L. D. (2022). Examining changes in nightmare distress and frequency across treatment in a child sample: Which improves first? International Journal of Dream Research, 15(2), 198-204.

 

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Terror and excitement are not so far apart

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Nervous system hybrid states and how they show up in dreams 

Not all dreams are pure fight/flight, but much like our complex nervous systems they can express hybrid states. We are all familiar with the nightmares of being chased (flight response) or weighed down with helpless immobility (dorsal vagal response). These are fear-based dreams, but they take on a very different tone when imbued with a sense of safety.

At its most basic level safety allows for social engagement, a sense of being at home in the company of those we love and trust. There are also hybrid states, where how safe we feel can mediate how our nervous system responds. When we are immobilized with safety, this allows for stillness, intimacy and bonding. When we are activated with safety, this allows for excitement, sport and play.

The genius of the polyvagal theory developed by Dr. Stephen Porges is that it takes us beyond the simple categorization everyone rattles off without much thought – the well-known fight/flight/freeze paradigm. When naming and understanding our autonomic state, Porges puts safety first.

A neuroception of safety is automatic, not intellectual

What does Porges mean by safety? His polyvagal theory is referring not to literal safety, but rather, bodily-sensed safety. Many who experience activated nervous systems, fear responses and nightmares are not in any real, physical danger, but there is no way to convince them of this, at least not by simply saying so.  Porges’ model stresses the neuroception of safety, that full-body sense which happens automatically, beyond conscious control, that allows our system to relax and repair.

When we are not experiencing rejuvenating embodied safety (a ventral vagal state), our dreams come as nightmares, as being chased or in aggressive encounters (fight/flight) or as helplessness immobility (often called freeze, those this word is not quite accurate). When our bodies feel safe, we dream of social encounters, of intimacy, adventures and play. Our dreams depict how safe or endangered we feel. As such, they can be a doorway to shifting these states at a deep level.

Autonomic state shifts are common — our nervous systems are always working to balance the need for safety and self-protection with those of social engagement, healing, digestion and the achievement of homeostatic balance. When our system perceives threat, things like digesting food or making love are luxuries our bodies senses we can’t afford… whether or not this is actually true.

Our sense of safety or danger is not always accurate

How do our bodies get this wrong? Much of the mismatch comes from early programming, from chronic exposure to neglect or trauma that creates nervous system responses that are either too sharp, too dull or a mixture of both. Those with complex trauma histories, for example, can perceive danger where none exists, or be blithely unaware of actual threatening situations and walk into danger without knowing it. Our dreams can provide both clues and solutions as they reflect our unconscious ANS responses.

During typical sleep, we shift states many times, alternating periods of deep restorative sleep with progressively longer period of dream-rich rapid-eye movement (REM) sleep. In these state shifts, we are most likely to become aware of our dreams and to be awakened by those that are particularly intense. Nightmares can disrupt sleep and affect mood, but they can also open the door to autonomic state shifts that can be lasting.

If we approach our dreams with curiosity, and begin to cultivate mastery and degrees of lucidity, we may be able to shift our dreamscape from a pervasive sense of threat to one of safety, changing our whole experience of the dreaming. This is easier to do that one might think. One chronic nightmare sufferer I worked with was able to turn a face her pursuers and discovered they were far less threatening than expected, and this changed the nature of her dreams. The chase dreams still visit at times, but now they have taken on more of an adventurous feel, one of excitement rather than terror – a similar activated state, but with more of a sense of safety.

Hybrid states show us that the programming our nervous systems received early in life may be tenacious, but it is also malleable. Change is possible, and dreams are one pathway to understanding and altering our habitual responses.

For more on this topic, join Dr. Leslie Ellis for a workshop on Nightmares and The Nervous System October 13, from 9:30-noon (Pacific)

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Slippery Fish: How to remember your dreams

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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 are like slippery fish: at night they rise from the depths of implicit memory and most of them slip back into this subconscious realm before we have a chance to catch them. But there are some reliable ways to improve your dream recall.

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.

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.

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.

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Nightmares and the nervous system: How the content of your nightmares can guide recovery from disturbed dreaming

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The content of our dreams offers clues about the state of our nervous system. As we know from current research on recurrent dreams, these often depict being chased, feeling helpless or, if positive, represent ways of being socially engaged. Anyone familiar with the polyvagal theory will recognize these states as the some of the main expressions of different states of autonomic nervous system (ANS): being chased is fight/flight, helplessness is immobility and social engagement corresponds with the ventral vagal state the body enters when feeling safe.

A new wave of somatically-oriented trauma therapies has swept through the field of trauma treatment as a result of what we now know about the nervous system. I love that these new approaches view ANS responses as adaptive rather than pathological. I am also impressed at how neatly such constructs map onto dream content. Clinicians can use this information from dreams to inform diagnosis and treatment, and to map clinical progress. For example, when recurrent dreams change, this is can indicate clinical progress as it coincides with increased well-being.

My upcoming journal article, Solving the Nightmare Mystery: How Polyvagal Theory Updates Our Understanding of the Aetiology and Treatment of Nightmares, takes Porges’ polyvagal theory and the nervous system into account when considering the causes and treatment of nightmares; it is in the final stages of production for APA journal Dreaming. The article articulates both a theory and treatment approach that I will cover in more detail in my upcoming workshop on October 13 (participants will receive an advance copy). One of the practical take-aways is the matching of dream content with autonomic states. Here is an excerpt from my article:

“It is possible to map the hierarchy of threat responses onto the content of nightmares. Virtually all fear-based nightmares contain material that represents either an activated fight/flight response or a helpless immobilized response in the face of threat. A recent study to determine the main themes in nightmare content (n = 1216) points to a strong, though not perfect, correlation between most common nightmare themes and the polyvagal response hierarchy. In order, the most frequent nightmare themes identified by Schredl and Goritz (2018) were failure or helplessness (immobility), physical aggression (fight), accidents, being chased (flight), illness or death (immobility), and interpersonal conflict (fight).”

In my doctoral research, I conducted a related qualitative study (Ellis, 2016), looking at changes in recurrent nightmare content after treatment using a protocol that is a precursor to the Nightmare Relief protocol I now use and teach.  The recurrent nightmares of study participants changed after treatment toward more empowered responses, moving up the polyvagal hierarchy of threat responses — from immobility to flight to fight. Also, the dreams that came after treatment began to weave in current settings and characters from the dreamer’s life shifting away from a focus in past trauma. The progression of dream content from replicative and recurrent toward dreams with strange twists and temporal anomalies (ie more normal dreaming) often coincides with trauma recovery.

Relevant to polyvagal theory, I also noticed that the dreams post-treatment tended to move toward greater social engagement: “When dreamers were asked to rescript their dream endings, they almost invariably imagined ‘home.’ The quality of home is similar to Porges’ ventral vagal state: not necessarily a literal place (especially for those whose actual homes were unsafe), but rather a sense of safety in the company of trusted others.” This is a clue about how to help with nightmares – assisting dreamers to reimagine their dreams in ways that feel safer can shift them, and reduce the aversion nightmare sufferers tend to have toward sleep and dreams.

In my upcoming seminar, I will present the most salient aspects of this material and focus mainly on introducing the Nightmare Relief protocol. I will be able to offer more detail, clinical examples, demos and experiential practices than are covered in the academic paper. I would like those who take this workshop to be able to put these ideas into practice right away with clients who suffer from nightmares and disturbing dreams.

To sum up, I have arrived at the idea that the nervous system is deeply implicated in nightmare suffering, and that using newer embodied trauma treatment methods that instill a sense of safety and connection are the starting points for treatment. I have incorporated what I learned in my doctoral research, and also what I have learned from existing evidence-based treatment to develop an individualized, embodied approach to treatment. This is described in my paper and upcoming workshop. I do hope you’ll join me.

 

Workshop: Nightmares and the Nervous System: How to treat disturbed dreaming
October 13, 9:30 to noon Pacific
LIVE online via Zoom, recording available to registrants
Cost: 140 (plus GST) = $147 USD

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Addictions recovery chaplain says dreamwork practice is ‘transformative’

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Dr. L.A. McRae offers impressions of their experience in the Embodied Experiential Dreamwork program

 

Sometimes a class can be truly transformative, and in this case Dr. L.A. McCrae, an addictions clinician and recovery chaplain feels this way after graduating from our year-long Embodied Experiential Dreamwork certification program. (A new cohort begins Sept. 21 and it’s not too late to join.)

L.A. noted that the dream program brought many helpful changes, both personally and professionally. “I am able to keep more of my dream content and really work through many underlying issues and concerns. Also, I have been able to integrate dreamwork with my individual clients and with my intensive outpatient groups. I now also keep a regular dream journal in my personal life. This has helped me to process trauma, grief, anxiety, and other uncertainties. I have found that I feel more alive in the non-waking life and am having meaningful connections and breakthroughs.”

I asked participants about the change in their comfort level in working with dreams. L.A. said, “At the beginning of the training, I felt that I was really in touch with my dreams. One of my spiritual gifts is dreaming and seeing beyond the veil. However, knowing what I now know, I would have put this competency at a 3. Since completing the program, I would say I am now an 8 and have a clear understanding of my growing edges.”

L.A. said their use of dreamwork in clinical practice has increased ten-fold and has shifted away from philosophical discussions to more experiential and focusing-oriented dreamwork. “With my individual clients, we always hold space for at least 15-minutes of dreamwork in every session. My clients really resonate with this practice and look forward to it. In my Anger Management outpatient group, we spend a significant amount of time with dreamwork and I have witnessed pretty amazing results. For instance, one participant was able to make the connections between the darkness he saw in his dream and the physical abuse from his father. This completely changed his demeanor and orientation towards healing. My Intensive Outpatient (IOP) group loves the opportunity to start the week with dream focusing in small groups. We went from no dreamwork to dreamwork almost every day.”

When asked what L.A. would say to those considering taking this program, they said, “DO IT! The experience in Dr. Ellis’ dreamwork course has changed both my personal and professional practice. The impact on/with my clients has been transformative. I have been able to access healing as an individual and hold space for healing with others. I am truly grateful for this experience and wish I could do it again! This dreamwork course was the best investment I made for professional development in the last decade.”

For more information about the program, visit https://drleslieellis.com/embodied-experiential-certification/.

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Recurrent Dreams: What are they trying to tell us?

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My main recurrent dream is of falling or diving from a precipitous height down a very steep cliff or slope. I wonder if it reflects all those years in university when I was competing for the diving team and spent hours each day falling fast and with a variable level of control. From a symbolic perspective, it could mean a fall from grace, and coming-down in some way, a loss of control. But these ideas are speculative. I prefer to spend time with the dreams themselves and their unique details – to open up to the dream so the felt sense it brings can unfold.

When someone brings me a recurring dream, I always ask not for general themes but the most recent or representative dream of its type. Recurrent dreams are important to pay attention to. They reflect more disturbed dreaming and I believe, represent themes or issues that are unresolved in some way. The classic version is the recurring nightmare after a trauma that has not been fully metabolized. There is a continuum of increasing severity and clinical concern that Domhoff (1993) identified as: repetition of dream elements, repetition of specific themes, exact repetition of dream content, repeated dream that resembles a trauma and repeated dream that replicates a trauma exactly. The research suggests that recurrent dreams coincide with decreased well-being, and that a positive shift often coincides with the cessation of such dreams.

Most adults have at least one recurring dream in their repertoire. I have been asked about these often lately (hence this blog post). A recent study by Schredl and colleagues (2022) reports that most recurrent dreams are negatively-toned, and the most common themes are ‘failure or helplessness’ and ‘being chased’. Interestingly, this supports my contention that dreams reflect the state of the nervous system – these themes could be seen as reflecting the classic immobility and the fight/flight responses to threat. Schredl wrote, “Overall, recurrent dreams seem to reflect waking life.”

However, for those who wake up many mornings feeling the aftermath of a dream depicting the same familiar challenge or fear, such generalizations are not helpful. In working with such dreams, I ask for details and particulars, and also how the dream situation feels to the dreamer. For example, Patty always had dreams of being trapped in a building, a kind of labyrinth, always being pursued and a sense she would be kidnapped. We entered this dream in her imagination, and she could see, to her surprise, that her pursuers were family members. She reflected that she was often the problem-solver and the emotional ballast for her family and this was a heavy burden. She spoke about setting better limits, making some changes, and as she did so, these dreams began to shift and fade.

Another dreamer I’ll call John always dreamt of being in a minefield, or a spy-like scenario where he had to go through all kinds of intricate traps and obstacles, and was always terrified of making a wrong move and detonating an explosion. These dream situations were like being Indiana Jones on a mission, but without the lightness. In feeling into a particular minefield dream, I asked John to notice the specific emotional flavour the dream brought, and wondered if it felt familiar. It quickly dawned on him that this was exactly what it felt like growing up with a narcissistic father prone to explosions of rage. Indeed, it felt like home was a minefield where it was easy to randomly put a foot wrong. He also reflected on his current relational patterns, and sensed into times with his partner that he felt he was walking on eggshells.

Understanding the possible source of such dreams brings some immediate relief, but insight doesn’t necessarily put an end to them. I have noticed that working through the challenging feelings they represent and then making life changes to address these dynamics is the most effective way to put recurrent dreams to rest – if that’s what’s desired. In my case, the falling dreams usually turn into something more fun than perilous: I am suddenly skiing with great skill, or can fly. Schredl noted that about 25% of recurrent dreams are positive: social, sexual, pleasant, interactive.

For those who have recurrent dreams of the unpleasant or downright terrifying variety, you might want to pause and consider what they could be about. I believe dreams reflect deep emotional processing, and if they repeat, there may be something that needs daytime attention. The further toward the severe end of Domhoff’s continuum (ie. replicative nightmares), the more the dreams are of clinical concern. The good news is that if the dreams and the life situations they reflect are worked with and metabolized, the more likely it is that the unwanted dreams will show up less often, and may even stop altogether.

 

References

Domhoff, G. W. (1993). The repetition of dreams and dream elements: a possible clue to the function of dreaming. In A. Moffitt, M. Kramer, & R. Hoffmann (Eds.), The functions of dreaming (pp. 293-320). SUNY Press.

Schredl, M., Germann, L., & Rauthmann, J. (2022). Recurrent Dream Themes: Frequency, Emotional Tone, and Associated Factors. Dreaming, OnlineFirst, 1