Sometimes dreams are wiser than waking.

“Sometimes dreams are wiser than waking.” Thus spoke Black Elk, the holy man of the Oglala Lakota, whose visions carried the wisdom of the Great Spirit and the heartbeat of the earth itself. In these words, he offers a truth as old as humanity — that dreams are not mere illusions of sleep, but sacred messengers from realms beyond reason. They are the whispers of the soul, the voice of the unseen world that speaks when the clamor of waking life falls silent. Black Elk reminds us that in the stillness of dreams, we often touch a wisdom deeper than logic, a knowing that transcends what the eyes can see and the mind can measure.

The origin of this quote lies in the traditions of his people, where dreams were not dismissed as fantasy, but honored as channels of revelation. To the Lakota, as to many of the world’s ancient peoples, dreams were a bridge between the spirit and the flesh, between the world as it is and the world as it could be. Black Elk himself received visions in his youth — great and terrifying dreams of thunder beings, of horses running beneath sacred skies, of the unity of his people. These visions shaped his destiny and guided his life, not as fantasies, but as truths unveiled through the language of the spirit. In them, he saw not only his path, but the destiny of his nation — its suffering, its loss, and the hope of renewal.

To say that dreams are wiser than waking is to acknowledge that the rational mind, though powerful, is limited. In waking life, we are bound by habit, fear, and the narrow perceptions of daily existence. But in dreams, the soul moves freely through the fields of possibility. There, symbols speak where words cannot. There, the heart remembers what the mind has forgotten — that we are connected to all things, that time is not linear, and that truth often arrives clothed in mystery. Black Elk teaches us that the wisdom of dreams is not opposed to waking reason, but complements it, reminding us that to know life fully, one must learn to listen with the spirit as well as the senses.

History, too, offers proof of this sacred insight. Consider Abraham Lincoln, who dreamt of his own death in the days before his assassination — a dream of walking through the White House and finding a covered body in the East Room, which he was told was that of the President. Or Albert Einstein, who dreamt of sliding down a beam of light as a child — a dream that would later blossom into the theory of relativity, transforming our understanding of time and space. These dreams, though born in slumber, carried wisdom that waking thought alone could not reach. For in the silence of sleep, the gates of the unknown open, and the divine speaks softly to those willing to listen.

Yet Black Elk’s teaching is not merely mystical — it is also deeply human. For the “dreams” he speaks of are not only those that visit us in the night, but also the visions of the heart, the aspirations and imaginings that call us toward our higher selves. Such dreams — of freedom, of unity, of compassion — are often wiser than the waking world that mocks or denies them. It is the dreamers, not the cynics, who have always moved humanity forward. Every great change, every act of courage or creation, began first as a dream — a glimpse of what could be, before the world believed it possible.

And yet, how easily the waking world scorns dreamers! How swiftly it calls them foolish, impractical, lost in illusion. But Black Elk’s wisdom turns that judgment upon its head. Perhaps it is not the dreamers who are blind, but those who refuse to dream at all. Perhaps it is the so-called “realists” who are asleep — chained by fear, dulled by routine, unable to see beyond the boundaries of their own reason. The true awakening, he suggests, lies not in the rejection of dreams, but in their embrace. For to follow one’s vision is to walk the path of the heart — and though that path may be long and uncertain, it leads always toward truth.

So let this be your lesson, traveler of the spirit: honor your dreams. Listen to them, both in sleep and in waking life. Write them down, ponder their meaning, and trust that within them lies a message meant for you. When a vision stirs your soul — whether born in the night or in the quiet longing of your day — do not dismiss it as fantasy. For sometimes, as Black Elk teaches, your dream knows the way even when your eyes do not. The dream is the compass of the spirit, the whisper of wisdom that calls you to remember who you truly are.

In the end, to dream is to commune with eternity. The wise of every age have known this — that the dream is not an escape from reality, but a gateway to its deeper truth. So dream bravely, and when you wake, carry that dream with you into the world. For though the waking mind may stumble, the dreaming heart always knows the way home.