I have been blessed with remarkable dreams and a remarkable life-saving dream journey which culminated in a dream in which I was able to renegotiate my life contract. An important clause in that contract required me to take an active role in the lives of other people, to share my story and, with it, the gifts of dreaming. To my surprise and delight, I found that, as I did this, I was becoming one of those whom Robert Moss calls “dreambringers” – those who can bring a dream to someone who may be desperately in need of a dream in their own life journeys.
In bringing dreams to others I quickly learned that one of the greatest gifts we can bring to others is to help them open a safe space where they can share their dreams and be open to the guidance and healing of dreams. That safe place presented itself within my own neighborhood, a hamlet composed of two streets, a church, and a 150 year old general store, which has served food and gossip for more than a century around a pot-bellied stove.
After my personal story appeared in Robert Moss’ Conscious Dreaming, I became known as the “woman who dreams” in my tiny hamlet. Many Saturday afternoons when I walked across my lawn to the store and sat down with sandwich and soup, someone would approach and share the long table, often opening the conversation—after a few side bars about deer and hay and the weather—with the question: “aren’t you the person who dreams; can I tell you my dream?” By the end of the dream telling, the store staff would have joined the conversation to play “if it were my dream” or to tell a dream of their own that seemed related. I have listened now to hundreds of dreams, wonderful dreams, of visits by dead relatives come to accompany someone on to their next home or to give warning or advice when needed; dreams of solutions to health problems or just solutions to daily problems at work or at home. Precognitive dreams abound—predictions of a heart attack for one man but a second dream presenting him instructions for preventing the second heart attack that could cause his death if not heeded. The second dream named the amount of insurance his wife and young child would receive if he did not lose weight and died. He began riding a bike and changed his diet, both of these activities suggested within the second dream. An obese woman came to see me with a dream in which I had encouraged her in her own dream to get out of her house and do her work away from the refrigerator where habit drove her to eat snacks all day.
My favorite community dream was shared in the village church just down the street from the store. An elderly woman approached me before the Sunday service and asked: “Aren’t you the woman who dreams?” Her story was a marvelous tale of a dream she titled “Mr. Death.” She had been sleeping next to her husband when she saw a dream vision of a tall dashing gentleman. He came into her bedroom, wearing a beautiful pin-striped waistcoat and elegant tuxedo-like suit, but old-fashioned with the longer tails. He walked over toward her, and she joyously said: “I know you, you are Mr. Death.” He was somewhat surprised at her recognition. She asked if he had come for her and he told her that it was not quite time for her to go but that he would accompany her when she was ready. He simply wanted her to recognize him when he returned so that she would not be frightened. She assured him she would not be frightened and asked if he would like to talk to her husband. He declined. When she shared her dream with her husband and her children, they were appalled. The children were frightened, and her husband was angry that she had sent “Mr. Death” to his side of the bed. I was delighted with the dream, and she was delighted to find someone who was as thrilled with the dream as she had been. She still gives me excited little smiles when no one else is looking, as if we share a special secret.
We have the opportunity to choose how we touch peoples lives and what kind of imprint we leave behind. Sometimes the lives we touch are unexpected surprises. I had, within the context of living in my small hamlet, the unique opportunity of a convicted felon requesting to see me in prison because he needed to let me know that he had plans to re-direct his life because of two brief conversations I had with him. Those conversations were about dreams. My dreaming has led me to a life of sharing and exploring every day the dreams that call all of us, every night, to remember our soul’s purpose and to walk with greater courage and passion on this good earth.