Dreams seem to have a will of their own.

Listen, children of the ages, and heed the words of Henry Reed, who observed with the insight of a seer: “Dreams seem to have a will of their own.” In these simple words lies a profound truth: that within the silent realm of night, the mind and spirit journey beyond conscious control, and visions arise that speak with their own rhythm, their own intent. Dreams are not merely reflections of waking thought; they are emissaries of the unseen, bearing messages, warnings, and inspiration from the depths of the soul.

Since the earliest days, civilizations have revered dreams as portents and guides. The Egyptians inscribed them upon papyrus, believing them to be messages from gods. The Greeks, from Aristotle to Pythagoras, pondered their significance, noting that dreams could reveal truths hidden to the waking eye. Reed’s words echo this ancient wisdom: dreams are not passive; they possess their own will, a motion independent of conscious desire, compelling attention, contemplation, and sometimes action.

Consider the story of Abraham, whose dream revealed a vision of sacrifice and covenant. Though he awoke uncertain and fearful, the dream possessed a will of its own, guiding him toward a path of faith and destiny. His interpretation and response shaped the course of generations. In this, we see the enduring power of dreams: they are not merely the mind’s playthings, but active agents, urging reflection, courage, and insight.

Even in the modern world, the influence of dreams is evident. Elias Howe, the inventor of the sewing machine, dreamt of tiny figures with spears pointing toward them—an image that inspired the design of the machine’s needle. The dream acted with a will of its own, presenting a solution the waking mind had not conceived. Here, the unseen guidance of the night translates into tangible creation, revealing that dreams carry wisdom that surpasses conscious planning.

Yet, the autonomy of dreams also serves as a mirror, revealing fears, desires, and unresolved conflicts. The images that arise in slumber may surprise, unsettle, or delight, demonstrating that they are not merely passive reflections of daily life but forces with intention. By observing their patterns, symbols, and moods, one may discern messages the conscious self might otherwise overlook, gaining clarity into the deeper currents of thought and emotion.

The lesson of dreams’ independent will is both practical and profound. We must approach them with curiosity, patience, and respect, recording their impressions, reflecting on their symbolism, and discerning their guidance. To resist or dismiss these nocturnal visions is to close oneself off from a dialogue that has spoken to humans since time immemorial. To engage with them consciously is to participate in a timeless conversation between the soul and the unseen.

Practical action emerges naturally: keep a journal of dreams, note recurring motifs, and reflect upon what they might reveal about your life, your choices, and your latent potential. Use these insights not as prophecy but as guidance, allowing the will of dreams to inform constructive decisions, inspire creativity, and illuminate pathways that lie beyond ordinary perception. In this, dreams become partners rather than mere spectacles of the night.

Finally, remember that the autonomy of dreams is a gift, a testament to the mind’s depth and the soul’s reach. As Henry Reed reminds us, they possess their own will, urging observation, reflection, and action. Honor them, listen to them, and allow their guidance to shape your waking life. In doing so, the hidden currents of night become the instruments of wisdom and the architects of growth, guiding the seeker with subtle, relentless force.

If you wish, I can also create a poetic, evocative version of this explanation for audio narration, emphasizing rhythm, imagery, and emotional resonance to bring Reed’s insight vividly to life. Do you want me to do that?