Dear Reader,

When I asked a friend the other day about her dreams, she looked at me like I'd asked her to recite a poem from memory. "I don't have time to think about my dreams," she said.

I've been thinking about it ever since. Because it's not really about time, is it?

It's about what we've been trained to consider a legitimate use of our attention.

We live inside a culture that has colonized the things that should belong to us most intimately — how we sleep, how we eat, how we go for a walk, how we make love.

There's a rule for all of it: a right way, a wrong way, a should.

Dreams are no exception.

Most of my clients don't come to coaching thinking about their dreams. They come with a plan, a deadline, a version of themselves they're trying to reach. But somewhere in our work, the dreams start showing up anyway — insistent, head scratching, often a little inconvenient.

Three things I hear constantly:

I don't remember my dreams.
I'm too exhausted to sleep well.
My dreams don't make any sense.

Working with a dream image isn't 1 + 1 = 2. It's not image-in, insight-out.

It's exponential.

One image, worked with skillfully and intentionally, can move something that's been stuck for years.

So here's my ask: don't let the good woman myth — the one that says your inner life only matters if it's productive — talk you out of the odd yet entirely worthwhile material showing up while you sleep.

Let's break up with the idea that our dreams aren't enough.

Tonight, before you sleep, ask only this: what's waiting for me?

With such love,

Brooke

I'm Brooke Hofsess.

I'm a Midlife Midwife for women who want to start their next chapter from soul, not fear or ego, so they can finally do the work they're meant to do — and actually enjoy it.

You'll find me in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where I live with my husband Dustin, our daughter Thea, two clever border collies, and an ever-growing collection of handmade mugs for Egyptian Licorice Mint tea.

You can read about my journey here.​