Dreaming in the Classroom: Practices, Methods, and Resources in Dream Education

Phil King, Bernard Welt and I have written the newly released DREAMING IN THE CLASSROOM: PRACTICES, METHODS, AND RESOURCES IN DREAM EDUCATION, from the State University of New York Press.  It has been a long time coming, and we are grateful to all the teachers we interviewed in the course of our research.

The back-cover endorsement comes from Ernest Hartmann, psychiatrist from Tufts University Medical School, who says, “This book will be extremely useful to educators at all levels.  It can be considered the King James Bible of the field of dream education.”

The cover of the book is a photo taken by Justin Knight of the walking labyrinth in the back courtyard of Harvard Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts.  The creation of this labyrinth was inspired by a dream experienced by Laura Lamp, an administrator at HDS.

The first two chapters lay out the basic issues and principles that come into play any time a teacher brings the subject of dreams into the classroom.  We especially emphasize dreaming as a resource in writing and composition classes, connecting dream experience with the development of fundamental academic skills.

Then come chapters on teaching dreams in specific disciplines at the college and graduate level: psychology, anthropology, philosophy and religious studies, general humanities, film studies, and psychotherapy and counseling.  After that is a chapter on dream education in community/alternative settings, and a chapter on dream education with younger students in primary and secondary schools.  We finish with reflections on “the future of dream education.”

It felt good last week to give a copy of the book to my youngest son’s 4th grade teacher, Jeff Grether at Windrush School, whose dream-and-writing assignment is mentioned on p. 182.

Now that I’ve got my own copy in hand, I feel the most valuable part of the book comes in the appendices, which offer an amazing variety of resources for teachers and aspiring teachers:

A. A Dreams Reading List

B. Course Syllabi

C. Establishing and Organizing Community Dream Groups

D. Outline for Short Presentations on Dream

E. Using the Dreambank

F. Preserving Narrative Meanings in Dream Content Analysis

G. Interdisciplinary Dream Course Template

H. Proposing a Course on Dreaming

I. Assessment of Educational Effectiveness in Dream Studies

J. Why I Teach Dreams in Freshman Composition (by Barbara Bishop)

 

 

The Interpretation of Snake Dreams: A Short Film

By far the most frequent question that leads people to this website is, how do I interpret my weird dream about a snake?  I’ve written some general answers to that question, and when possible I’ve offered people specific responses to their dreams.  Now, thanks to the video creativity of Ed Kelley, I have a new resource for people who are interested in snake dreams.  Ed directed, filmed, and edited a short film titled “The Interpretation of Snake Dreams” in which I discuss the multiple meanings of snake dreams through history and in different religious traditions.  I hope this work will give people new ways to understand and explore the presence of numinous serpents in dreams.   Do not expect a simple instructional video.  If you have had a powerful dream of a snake and found your way to this site, I trust you will recognize something of your experience in this film.

Dreams about Harry Potter

Two dreams about Harry Potter came up in a new survey I’ve just begun studying, and they show how deeply the fantasy series of J.K. Rowling has sunk into some people’s minds.   The first comes from a 20-year old single Asian woman from California:  “About 10 years or less ago…I dreamed of myself being able to fly a broomstick, just like Harry Potter did in his movie. All I could remember was the joy of flying and the cool wind in my face..and all that time, I was indoors..but I didn’t care..I just remember waking up happy because I thought I had just learned how to fly.”

The second comes from a 25-year old white woman in Indiana.  She is married, childless, and unemployed: “I was at Hogwarts Castle from the Harry Potter books, and I had just found out that I was pregnant. I knew that I had been virginally impregnated by Voldemort, and I was very conflicted between my love for the baby growing inside me and my hatred for Voldemort. I remember talking with my boyfriend, and double-checking with him that we still hadn’t ever had sex. He assured me that we had not. I remember talking with my dad, reassuring him that I hadn’t given away my virginity, that I was still saving sex for marriage. I was very emotional. Next, I remember talking with Harry Potter. He said, “You cannot go through with this! You have to get rid of that baby!” Then the scene changed abruptly, and I was in a plastic baby pool. I had decided on a water birth and was in labor. Voldemort’s face was a mere two inches from mine, and he was screaming, his face intense and full of evil. “Push!!! Puuushhh!!!” I was in so much pain, emotionally and physically. I didn’t want to have this baby. But I did want it! I loved it! The dream ended in the middle of me pushing through labor.”

I don’t know anything more about these individuals than their basic demographic profiles.  The second dream mentions a boyfriend, but on the question about marital status she says she’s married.  I don’t have additional information to reconcile that.

I’d be curious to know what readers think about these dreams! 

In the online survey, conducted by Harris Interactive, 2045 American adults were asked to describe an especially memorable dream.  A total of 1026 people provided answers of more than 20 words.   I would not have expected Harry Potter dreams to be especially frequent for a group of adults answering a broad question like this.  Soon I’ll have another survey using this same basic question with a group of 8-18-year olds, and I certainly expect to find more HP-themed dreams in that set of data.  

How to Interpret Snake Dreams

I’m amazed at how many people have powerful dreams about snakes.  Serpents are truly the most memorable creatures of the dream world.  Their presence in a dream is almost always vivid, mysterious, and attention-grabbing.   

 When asked how to interpret people’s snake dreams, I struggle to say something that’s helpful without imposing my outsider’s view on the dreamer.  I can make general statements about traditional symbolism, but that always runs the risk of leading the dreamer away from the specific details of his or her experience, where the deepest personal meanings may often be found.

 As an alternative way of answering people’s questions about snake dreams, here is a dream I had a few weeks ago, on the night of February 25, plus the journal entry I wrote following the dream.  As you can see, I don’t come to a final conclusion about the dream’s message.  Instead I free associate about the personal web of memories and feelings that seem related to it, letting the power of the dream serpent guide my reflections.

 Title: The Big Green Snake Could Actually Eat Me

 I’m out on a green grass field….In the bushes nearby I see a snake….it has a big green head, in the green foliage of the bushes….I’m scared and start to run, but the snake quickly comes after me….It wraps itself so its head is looking at me around my left shoulder….I realize it’s big enough to eat me, actually….I try to figure out what to do, how to keep it from squeezing and eating me….It hasn’t made a move to try doing that, but I’m scared it might….

 Journal: This dream came the first night back from week-long family vacation, after a long drive and getting back into household duties.  During the day I enjoyed some fun creative work, but also some stress about tasks to do this coming week.  The snake is very big, and in my mind while dreaming I’m thinking out the physical details of how it would successfully consume me.  At the same time, I’m aware the snake has not yet harmed me.  I sense it may simply want to get close to me and check me out.  I can’t outrun it, I can’t fight it—I’m in its power.  Yesterday I read the first chapter of Harry Potter 7, in which Voldemort’s snake Nagini is invited to eat a person V has just murdered.  Nagini is portrayed as being about the same size as the snake in my dream.  So I’m like V, with the snake my close companion?  Or am I about to be a victim of V and what he represents?  All the green: it’s late winter/early spring around here, so lots of green foliage in our garden at home, and at the beach house while we were on vacation  —  Feb. 25 is the birthday of an old girlfriend, I just realized that  —  first love  —  an anniversary dream?  —  an early emergence of serpent power in my life?  Yesterday was like other days at the end of a vacation, feeling like a pivot time; I’m anxiously getting ready to spring back into action  —  and I have a lot of action awaiting me  —  a time of massive transition  —  creative potential  —  will the snake eat me, or won’t it?  Does it matter?  I’m wrapped up in its power, now and perhaps forever.  I don’t have a sense of the snake actually touching me; it’s coiled around me, but not binding me, just close enough so it’s head can get close to mine.  Its eyes can look into mine. I definitely feel it’s trying to connect with me, size me up.

If you’re interested in learning more about snake dreams in history and psychological theories about them, scroll down the list to see this post.  (titled “What Do Dreams of Snakes Mean?”)  Also take a look at the comments, which include dozens of snake dreams people have shared that I’ve commented on.

If you’d like to know what Carl Jung said in The Red Book about the symbolism of snakes, see this post.

If you’d like more information about actual snakes, check out the website of the East Bay Vivarium.

A Lucid Dreaming Cautionary Tale: Graham Joyce’s “Dreamside”

Later this month (3-23) I’m joining British novelist Graham Joyce at the Rubin Museum in New York City to discuss “Are Dreams Pure Fantasy?” as part of the museum’s “Brainwave” lecture series on dreams.  I’ve just read Joyce’s first novel, Dreamside, and it’s a hauntingly beautiful tale, both frightening and inspiring.  It raises vital questions about the perils and potentials of lucid dreaming.

Written in 1991, the novel accurately conveys the naïve excitement many people felt at that time about early psychological research on consciousness in dreaming.  The story concerns four college students who sign up for a study on the induction of lucid dreams.  The students form an unlikely team, each driven by very different motives.  Ella, a mercurial, sexually alluring spiritual seeker, will do and say anything to achieve transcendence. Lee, the central character, is a stolid, rather conventional guy painfully captivated by Ella’s erotic energy.  Brad, a medical student, has the most advanced innate skills at lucid dreaming, but he’s a cynical, drunken lout who can only express his sexual desires in the crudest of ways.  Honora, from Ireland, is the quietest and most innocent of the group.  Of them all, she is the most sincere in her desire to learn about dreaming.

Their guide from waking reality into Dreamside is Professor Burns, an elderly psychologist with a hobbyist’s interest in parapsychology and an ornery disregard for other people’s feelings.  Initially the lucid dream induction seminar is just a sham, as the Professor is in fact conducting a study of small group dynamics.  But when the students begin succeeding in their efforts—when they learn how to become aware in dreams, interact with each other, and perform various experiments to test their Dreamside abilities—Prof. Burns becomes excited, too, and pushes them further and further.

Without revealing any other plot developments, it may simply be said that everyone involved reaches a point where they deeply regret their blind rush into alien realms of psychic experience.

The moral of the story is not that lucid dreaming is bad.  Nor is it that Prof. Burns might have benefited from the input of a human subjects committee, though that’s undoubtedly true.  It’s rather that we need to ask the right questions about lucid dreaming.  The characters in Dreamside are so intent on figuring out how to induce lucid dreaming that they never ask themselves why they want to do so in the first place.  The “how” question is relatively easy, but if you haven’t reflected carefully on the “why” question you may find yourself woefully unprepared for what you encounter.

This is the same message that Hindu and Buddhist sages have taught for centuries: it is indeed possible to learn lucid dreaming techniques, but those techniques are best practiced within a context of spiritual training, guidance, and self-reflection.  The college students in Dreamside have grown up in the morally impoverished world of Thatcher-era Britain, and they have few cultural resources to help them make sense of their experiences.   Perhaps the greatest achievement of Joyce’s novel is that it provides what its characters lack—a wise and healthily cautious understanding of human dreaming potential.

Science Fiction and Fantasy Dreams

What are the best science fiction and fantasy stories featuring dreams?  I’m writing an entry on this question for a new encyclopedia, and I’d appreciate any suggestions of authors and titles to include.  I’ll surely say something about Robert Louis Stevenson, Lewis Carroll, Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, Jorge Luis Borges, Ursula K. LeGuin, Philip K. Dick, Neil Gaiman, J.K. Rowling, and Graham Joyce.  (Movies are covered in another entry, which is actually a relief since I’ve only got 750 words.)  Who else should be on the list?

The entry is for the forthcoming Encyclopedia of Sleep and Dreams, edited by Deirdre Barrett and Patrick McNamara (Praeger Press).

Later this spring I’ll post an essay on dreams in the Harry Potter series.  The movies downplay it, but in the novels dreaming plays a variety of interesting roles, particularly at crucial turning points in the story.