Dreams I've Had That Changed Me

I’ve always felt like dreams are more than dreams.

They’re not just flickers of imagination or strange puzzles stitched together by the brain during rest. No, they’re messages. From somewhere beyond. From within.

Some nights, I close my eyes and fall not into sleep, but into a different reality. A place that feels like a mirror to this world, but softer. Quieter. Rawer. A place where the emotions are louder than the sounds, and time is slower than the moon.

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🌑 The First Dream: The Forgotten Garden

I once dreamed of a garden.

It was wild, overgrown, and hauntingly beautiful. The trees bent low as if whispering secrets, and the flowers breathed in rhythms I couldn’t understand. I walked barefoot through the grass, chasing the scent of something I used to know, but couldn’t name.

At the center of the garden was a gate, rusted and half-open. Behind it stood someone I couldn’t see, only feel. Familiar. Like a version of me I had left behind. He smiled, but said nothing.

When I woke up, I spent the whole day in silence, haunted by the stillness of that dream. It felt like the garden wasn’t from another world, it was from me. A part of me I had buried. A memory. A feeling.

What parts of ourselves do we fence off and forget, simply because we’re too afraid to tend to them?

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🕯 The Second Dream: The Disappearing City

In one dream, I wandered a city built entirely from candlelight.

Everything flickered, the walls, the streets, even the stars above. People moved like shadows, speaking a language I didn’t understand. But I felt welcome.

I found a bookshop without a name, and inside it, a man told me:
"Every story you haven’t lived yet is waiting for you here."

I opened a book with no title and saw my own handwriting.

That dream shook something in me. When I woke up, I started writing again. It made me realize that even the stories we haven’t lived, the ones we’re too afraid to begin, are calling us. Waiting for us.

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🌠 What Dreams Teach Us

Not all dreams are meaningful. Some are strange, scattered, even forgettable.

But then there are the ones that stay.
The ones that whisper for weeks.
The ones that feel like truth in disguise.

Those dreams change you.

They remind you of the versions of yourself you’ve lost, or haven’t met yet.
They show you love in its purest form.
They plant stories in you that haven’t been written.

I don't know if dreams are from God, the soul, the subconscious, or another dimension entirely. Maybe they’re all of those things.

But I do know this:

Some dreams aren't meant to be understood.
They're meant to be felt.
And remembered.

Have you ever had a dream that changed you? Feel free to share it in the comments. I’d love to know I’m not the only one floating between these worlds.

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