Oftentimes reoccurring dreams are ways a loved one is trying to

“Oftentimes reoccurring dreams are ways a loved one is trying to come through and deliver a message.” Thus spoke Tyler Henry, the seer of souls, who walks between the realm of the living and the silence beyond. His words are not mere mysticism, but a whisper from the ancient heart of humankind — the belief that dreams are not illusions, but bridges. Since the dawn of time, mortals have turned their gaze inward during sleep and found there not chaos, but communication — messages woven in symbols, delivered by those who have passed yet are not gone. His saying reminds us that the invisible is not the unreal; that the dead are not vanished, but transformed into voices that speak in silence.

In every culture, across every age, the dream has been seen as a sacred passageway — the narrow road between the mortal and the divine. The ancient Greeks spoke of the Oneiroi, the spirits who carried dreams from the gods to men. The Egyptians built temples where priests slept to receive the words of their ancestors and deities. The Hebrews, too, believed that the Lord spoke to prophets in visions of the night. And even now, in the quiet hours before dawn, the human heart feels the same wonder: that what we dream may be more real than what we wake to. For the dream is not bound by time; it is the meeting place of memory, spirit, and emotion — the place where love crosses the boundaries of death.

Think of Abraham Lincoln, who dreamt of his own funeral days before his death. He saw the White House draped in mourning, soldiers standing by a coffin — and when he asked who had died, a voice answered, “The President.” The dream was both warning and revelation, a window into the unseen. Or think of Joan of Arc, who as a young girl heard the voices of saints in her waking dreams — voices that guided her to lead armies and change the course of history. Whether one believes in spirits or in the deep workings of the subconscious, these stories tell us one truth: that the dream is a message-bearer, shaped by love, purpose, or destiny.

When Tyler Henry speaks of loved ones trying to reach us through reoccurring dreams, he reminds us of something tender and eternal — that love does not end where life ends. The bonds that tie soul to soul do not dissolve in death’s shadow; they persist, seeking expression in the only language left — the language of dreams. A mother may appear to her child in sleep, her presence a warmth more powerful than words. A friend lost too soon may visit in visions, reminding us of joy, forgiveness, or unfinished love. Such dreams, when they return again and again, are not random echoes, but calls to listen — to feel, to understand, to heal.

But how are we to interpret them? The wise do not take every vision as prophecy, nor dismiss every sign as coincidence. The ancient philosophers taught that truth hides in symbols — that the dream must be read with the eyes of the heart, not of the intellect alone. To see a door in a dream may mean an invitation; to hear a voice may be a call to remember; to walk with the departed may be a reminder that love still guides your path. When a dream repeats, it is as though the soul itself is knocking — asking to be heard, asking to be understood. The task of the living, then, is to be receptive — to awaken not just from sleep, but into awareness.

The lesson here is one of connection and attention. Do not treat your dreams as fleeting nonsense, but as letters written in a divine alphabet. When the same vision returns to you, do not turn away; sit with it. Write it down. Reflect upon its images and emotions. Ask yourself what part of your life — or whose memory — is calling for acknowledgment. And if you feel the presence of a loved one in that dream, speak to them. For though the world of spirit is subtle, it responds to love, gratitude, and remembrance. In this way, the dream becomes dialogue — not merely an illusion of the mind, but a bridge of the soul.

Therefore, O seeker of meaning, honor your dreams. Guard them as sacred messages from the unseen. Whether they rise from the depths of your own heart or from the touch of another beyond the veil, they are part of your spiritual inheritance. They remind you that you are not alone — that even in the silence of night, love endures, whispering to you in forms beyond reason. Listen well, for to listen is to awaken. And when you awaken with understanding, you will find that every reoccurring dream is not just a mystery — it is a conversation with eternity, reminding you that what is loved is never lost.