Okay, so here’s the deal. I kinda missed those wild, vivid dreams I used to have as a kid, you know? Everything felt more magical, like anything could happen. Adulting kinda dulls that down, right? Anyway, I decided to try and get that feeling back, that childhood way of seeing dreams. And I came up with these 5 steps – dead simple, I swear.
Step 1: Just Trying to Remember the Old Stuff
First off, I figured I needed some raw material. So I literally just sat down with a notebook, no fancy apps, just pen and paper. I spent, like, maybe an hour? Just trying to force my brain to pull up any fragment of a dream I remembered from way back when I was probably eight or nine. It was tough! Most stuff was fuzzy. But I managed to jot down a few snippets: this recurring one about flying over my neighborhood rooftops, another super weird one where our dog could talk (in a really deep voice!), and a super scary one about being chased by giant bees. I didn’t worry about making sense of them, just getting them onto the page.
Step 2: Writing It Out Like Kid Me Would
Next day, I grabbed that list. Instead of my usual boring dream journal style (“Stress dream about work meeting” – yawn!), I tried to describe those old dreams using the words and feelings kid-me probably had. So for the flying dream, I wrote: “Woosh! Over Mrs. Peterson’s scary rose bushes! Giggling, felt tingly in my tummy, like when you go too high on the swings! Smelled like cut grass and fireworks.” Instead of “scared of bees,” it was, “Heart pounding THUMP THUMP! Legs wobbling, couldn’t run fast enough! Giant buzzing was SO LOUD right in my ear! Sticky honey smell everywhere.” Forced myself to use simple words, lots of feelings and senses, nothing complicated.
Step 3: Forgetting I’m an Adult (Sort Of)
This sounds stupid, but it felt crucial. Every morning when I woke up last week, even before coffee (brutal!), I made myself take 5 super deep breaths. While breathing, I tried to push away all the grown-up junk – the to-do list, the bills, that awkward email I needed to send. Like mentally sweeping it aside. Then, I’d just try to exist in that foggy, just-woke-up state, the same way I did as a kid. Didn’t try to remember any new dreams specifically, just tried to hang out in that sleepy, unfocused headspace for a few minutes before the world crashed in. Basically trying to be more receptive.
Step 4: Pretending Before Bed
Alright, getting closer to dream time. Each night, I gave myself 10 minutes before lights out. Lied in bed, super comfy. I picked one thing from step 1 – like the talking dog. Then I just closed my eyes and sorta “played pretend” in my head. I imagined the dog’s deep voice, the ridiculous stuff he might say (probably complaints about kibble, knowing my old dog!), what it felt like to actually have a conversation with him in the backyard. I didn’t try to control it like planning a story, I just played around with the images and feelings very loosely, letting it get silly or nonsensical. Like a kid making up a game.
Step 5: Doing the Morning Write & Compare
Final step! Any dream I remembered upon waking (thanks to step 3!), I immediately scribbled it down first thing. But here’s the key part: I didn’t try to analyze it with Freud or Jung or anything heavy. Instead, I grabbed my kid-style notes from step 2 and just looked for echoes. Did it feel like the old ones? Was it weirdly illogical? Were the emotions super vivid? Did I experience smells or sounds strongly? Like this morning, I had a dream I was building a fort out of pancakes in the kitchen, and the syrup smelled incredibly strong. It felt genuinely joyful, and the smell thing? Totally reminded me of how intense sensory details were in those childhood dream notes. Success?
What Happened?
Honestly, it took a few days of being consistent (step 3 was the hardest – mornings are rough!). But something shifted around day 4 or 5. The dreams started feeling… different. Less like anxieties replaying my day, more like random, sometimes funny, sometimes bizarre little movies. The emotions were stronger, good or bad. And the images seemed brighter, sharper. It wasn’t exactly like being a kid again, obviously. But it definitely felt like I was tapping into that old way of dreaming – more imaginative, less filtered. It was kinda cool! Like finding an old, dusty box of magic tricks you forgot you had. Easy peasy steps, surprisingly effective little revival project.
