Jen Sonstein Maidenberg

One of the things I love most about being a journalistic writer is I get to show up ignorant and leave (hopefully) a little more informed. When I interview people, of course I research them before our meeting, but the whole point of interviewing them is to learn more about them and sort through what they share to compose a hopefully entertaining or engrossing narrative. Journalism is possibly one of very few jobs in which “not knowing” is expected; in which ignorance is not something to hide or be ashamed of.  

I share this because I often show up to this blog with my journalist hat on, even though I don’t explicitly say so. This is because while I may be a dreamwork practitioner and therefore, presumably have some knowledge on the topic of dreams, I also am just a naive explorer, a curious oneironaut (dream traveller). I don’t expect to ever have the answers when it comes to your dreams — some possible theories, yes, based on experience, training, or science, but not definitive answers. I love that I don’t have to know in order to gather together with you to re-enter a dream or discuss theories. In fact, this for me, is one of the most delightful parts of the journey and my job. 

I have found that dreamers, when they first start paying more attention to their dreams, naturally want to know the answers to two questions: Why do we dream and where do dreams come from?

You would think that science already knows the answers to these two questions, but you’d very quickly discover that’s not the case. Yes, there has been a lot of research done in laboratories on sleeping humans and their dreams, and yes there have been academic papers written about dreams and dreaming, and certainly there is a whole category of psychological literature on dreams. There are philosophy and religion books on dreams, too. But there actually is no definitive conclusion as to why we dream or where dreams come from. You could read all the books published and all the papers written and you would not arrive at a certain, even widely-accepted conclusion.

In fact, in my experience, the academic papers and most of the books currently available on the science of dreams may actually be the last places you’ll find your own answers to those two questions, unless of course you are someone who is 100% satisfied by whatever contemporary, conventional science tells you, even when the science is contradictory to your own direct experience. I love reading about the neuroscience of sleep and dreams and, yet, I have never once finished a book or an article on sleep or dreaming with definitive answers to my own burning questions around why we dream or where dreams they come from. Sure, I am sometimes left with more knowledge about how the brain seems to work (despite the heavy jargon and focus on statistics in research papers), which can lead to correlations in my own mind between brain science and the felt experience of dreaming. But I don’t walk away feeling as if I arrived at whatever it is am seeking in the asking of such big questions.  

What I have experienced myself and witnessed as a guide for others on their dream travels is that the answers to these questions come on their own as you spend more time recalling and working with your own dreams — and the answers are usually a lot more satisfying than the ones you might find in an abstract of an academic article. Let me be clear: dreamwork doesn’t provide without-a-doubt conclusivity. But we arrive at answers that feel temporarily satisfying enough to contemplate and discuss with others, whether that’s your dreamwork practitioner, a dream circle friend, or just someone you feel comfortable being vulnerable with.

For the religious among us, the search for answers when it comes to dreams is not unlike the search for answers about God. We may acquire knowledge through meeting with a religious leader or by reading and discussing books, but neither are a substitute for your own personal encounter or felt experience of divinity, and neither will likely lead to conclusive, unchanging answers for you personally about God’s existence or about your own encounters with what feels divinely inspired.

For the secular among us, the search for answers about dreams is not unlike the search for true love or a soul mate. There is only so much reading, talking, and listening of podcasts one can do when it comes to falling in love and being inside a healthy, nourishing relationship with another. At some point, you need to be out there in front of people, willing to be both ignorant and curious, but with the intention to know that which you seek.

Dreamwork (the recalling and contemplating of your dreams on your own or with another) is the best way to know why you dream and where your dreams come from. And the answers will surely change as you change, and as you get to know yourself, your wounding, and your own soul’s desires, more deeply. 

As with mystical encounters with the divine and as with falling in love, it’s hard to describe how it happens or under what circumstances because the direct experience is unique to each person. Also, especially like falling in love —  it’s better to be in it than hear about it from someone else.

Over the course of my own work with dreams, I have come up with lots of satisfying responses to my own questions around “why do I dream?” and “where do my dreams come from?” But, time passes and then I have new dreams, and the responses change. Nonetheless, the insights that arise each time contribute to my growth as a person and as a dreamwork practitioner. As a journalist, it’s frustrating sometimes to walk away without all the information and all the answers, but sometimes the source is simply not yet ready to share.