Dream Tending: Healing Through Art and the Power of Imaginal Connection

There I was, standing alone in an empty room, looking out through a large sliding glass door. The space around me felt quiet, still. Through the glass, I could see a man standing tall, his two sons beside him, nearly as tall as he was. His arms were draped around their shoulders, pulling them close. He smiled—a smile that reminded me of my father’s. A smile that whispered, “We’re all here. Everything’s okay.”

His eyes radiated a kind of love that felt endless. Unconditional. Whole.

The dream shifted, and suddenly, he was no longer just a man. He became something more—Lover. He stood firm, rooted in the earth, his presence steady, stable. His gaze held me, wrapped me up. And in that gaze, something inside me began to change.

I felt safe. Warm. Completely surrounded.

I stepped forward, into that glow, into the safety of his gaze.

And in that moment, pieces of myself that had been broken—pieces I thought might never heal—began to mend. Slowly, they wove back together.

This is an excerpt from my dream journal. It’s a dream that came six months before I met the man who is now the love of my life—my husband. And here’s the thing: he is exactly as my dream described.

When I first had this dream, it shook me. There was a thorn-like feeling lodged deep inside me, something I couldn’t quite name. The dream clung to me for weeks, even months, gnawing at my heart, my soul.

But slowly, that dream revealed its purpose. It led me to explore the evolution of dreams—the idea that our dreams grow, change, and shift, just as we do. The philosopher Henry Corbin once said, “It is not we who individuate, but the image.”

Dream images have their own intelligence. They’re like relationships that start with a spark, then grow into something deeper and more complex. The image rises from the dream, carrying a message. Over time, we learn to listen.

Art, for me, became the bridge between my waking self and this dream world. It allowed me to step back and see my dream from the outside in. Steven Aizenstat, in his book Dream Tending: Awakening to the Healing Power of Dreams, introduces an exercise called “Sustaining Relationship with an Image by Using the Senses.” This exercise invites you to engage with the dream through your body—paying attention to every sensation, emotion, and shift as the dream evolves.

And evolve it did.

Months after the dream, I found myself wandering the aisles of an art store. A large white canvas called to me, along with paints in hues of yellow, blue, purple, and red. I didn’t plan it, but when I got home, I set up the canvas and began to paint.

Tears fell as I painted, each brushstroke pulling the dream out of me, layer by layer. All the confusion, emotion, and swirling imagery flowed onto the canvas. And finally, after hours of painting, I felt emptied out. What had once been tangled inside me now lived on that canvas.

The message of the dream was clear. Through art, I had found understanding.

Turning Dreams into Art

Artistic expression is more than just a way to explore creativity; it’s a process of healing. When we engage with our dreams through art—whether that’s painting, writing, or any other creative practice—we allow ourselves to step outside of the mind and into the body. We make our inner world visible, giving form to what was once invisible. It’s a way of moving energy, of processing emotions, and of finding clarity in what was once a mystery.

In my case, the act of painting allowed me to integrate the dream fully, to understand it not just intellectually but somatically. And as I painted, the sense of unease that had followed me for so long began to lift. I realized that this dream had been guiding me toward a deeper truth—one that could only be revealed through art.

A Practice You Can Try

If you’re someone who tends to dream vividly—or even if you don’t often remember your dreams—consider trying this practice for yourself. Next time you wake up with a dream that lingers, grab a notebook or a canvas. Write, draw, or paint what comes up. Don’t worry about creating a masterpiece. This is for you—your process, your healing.

As you engage with your dream in this way, notice what shifts within you. What feelings emerge? What new understanding comes through? And most importantly, give yourself permission to feel whatever arises—whether it’s joy, sadness, or confusion.

Dreams have a way of revealing themselves to us slowly. Be patient with the process, and trust that the dream will evolve, just as you do.

Dreams are not just random images or fleeting thoughts. They are invitations—portals into the deeper parts of ourselves. And when we answer those invitations with creativity, we unlock the potential for profound healing and transformation.

The dream I had so long ago, unsettling as it was, became the key to understanding a part of myself I hadn’t yet discovered. It led me not only to my husband but to a deeper relationship with my inner world.

Art became the way I unlocked the dream’s message, and through that process, I found clarity, peace, and a sense of wholeness. And that is the gift of dream tending: it allows us to step into the mystery, knowing that each dream holds a piece of the wisdom we need.

Listen to this SoundCloud Playlist I created for you.