“What Are Our Dreams Trying to Tell Us?”

“What Are Our Dreams Trying to Tell Us?”

I’ve always found dreams to be one of life’s strangest gifts. Sometimes they’re wild and bizarre, like a circus that took a wrong turn into your brain. Other times they’re heartbreakingly vivid or eerily prophetic. One moment you’re flying over the ocean with your third-grade teacher riding a llama, and the next you’re waking up with tears in your eyes because you saw someone you miss more than you care to admit.

What do they mean? That’s the question, right?

Some folks write dreams off as random firings of a tired brain. Others believe dreams are sacred messages, glimpses into our unconscious mind or whispers from God. I think maybe they’re a little of everything.

I’ve had dreams that made no sense at all—like trying to make spaghetti in a thunderstorm while a corgi judges me from the countertop. I’ve also had dreams that stuck with me for days, stirring something deeper. Sometimes they reflect what we’re wrestling with while we’re awake but don’t want to face. A conversation we avoided. A fear we’re trying to outrun. A hope we’re afraid to name out loud.

Dreams can be loud. They can also be quiet, delicate nudges when our hearts are tired. They show up with symbols, with metaphors, with echoes of people we haven’t seen in years. They remind us that our minds are always working, always remembering, always sorting through the stories of our lives.

A friend once told me she had a recurring dream about standing at a train station, suitcase in hand, but never boarding. She didn’t understand it until one day it hit her—she was stuck in her life. She was packed and ready but too scared to go. That dream finally pushed her to make a change.

I think dreams do that sometimes. They help us say what we can’t say. They help us see what we’re too distracted to notice.

So what do your dreams mean? I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you it’s worth paying attention. Write them down. Think about what you felt. What’s going on in your life that your brain might be trying to work through while the world is quiet?

Maybe that dream of flying isn’t just about escape—it’s about freedom. Maybe that dream about being lost isn’t about fear—it’s about searching for direction.

Or maybe it’s just your brain throwing spaghetti at the wall while you sleep. That’s possible too.

But if we give our dreams a little time and attention, they might just give something back. A hint. A memory. A nudge in the right direction.

Keep dreaming,
Dr. Nick

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