What does it mean to dream? This question has taken on different meanings depending on where I’m at. Most days it shows up as hopes for the future or lost pursuits buried in the past. Recently, I’ve instead been trying to interpret recurring themes I’ve encountered while asleep. My dreams keep revolving around past music collaborators and new projects, only accessible when I drift into this other realm.
Just when I think I’ve understood it, everything changes.
At first, I thought it might represent unfinished business. Or maybe it’s just affirming my artistic path. Of course, it can be both. What if it’s a reminder that the past doesn’t disappear? It echoes and sometimes it calls us back. And when we return, the lessons we’ve learned can also evolve.
Memory as a Living Thing
These dreams are a reminder that memory continues and can be reinterpreted as guidance for the present moment. What felt like failure or loss may be trying to reveal itself as something new to be seen. If we can pinpoint these new meanings, perhaps they can help deliver growth and ideas for moving forward. But insights don’t always happen in an instant which is why I often like to linger in mystery without an answer.
Lingering is my form of reflection.
That’s what I’ve intended since the beginning. In all the VR experiences that I create, I make sure there is a lot of space for the player to explore and that’s there’s plenty of time. This isn’t only about agency but about creating that comfortable place to be. Mainly I like to tell meditative stories without the conventions of a traditional mediation app. Even still, too many interactions can start to expand the scope and make it bigger than it needs to be. I often need to remind myself that I’m not making Quabble, one of my favorite mental health apps. With my current project, I didn’t see the scope starting to bloat. This is why it’s good to step back and view the big picture.
Two Paths of Healing
I started thinking about how similar yet different my two latest VR narrative projects feel in their essence.
Shadow Mend was about letting go. It invited people to release an old habit, a destructive vice, or a harmful thought pattern. Its energy was subtractive: an undoing, a clearing away so that something positive could emerge.
But The Dream Lodge is different. It isn’t about subtraction but rather reinterpretation, where the past is not a burden to be cut loose but can be held up to the light and seen in new ways. The energy here is additive: gathering, layering, reshaping.
Healing can mean release as well as reinterpretation.
I often wonder if I’m living a lost dream. How many times will I push the boulder uphill only to have it roll to the bottom again? And then I fall asleep and am given reminders which are particularly helpful during the creative process.
Moving Away from the Hub
At first, the VR story app didn’t feel ambitious but hidden deep was a much larger scope than I realized. I wanted to house multiple narratives in this cabin container or “hub” but then saw the technical nightmare of trying to move old projects into new ones – all with the hope that I could keep up with bugs, and not break anything as new content arrived. For one person, this is a lot. And I was building an anthology before having all the stories ready. (Having Mermaid Song on deck wasn’t enough either.) This wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it’ll be more impactful to use what I’ve already developed to tell a single story.
So, what is The Dream Lodge now?
In a way it’s like my recurring dreams, and maybe lost ones, a space where the past returns not to haunt but to speak in new tones. No neat answers are given. Instead, it invites you to linger in the mystery of a human life, maybe even your own, and notice what arises when you sit with the recounting.
What will you find? For some, that may mean finding renewed purpose, a long-buried passion or a path that’s still alive. For others, it may simply mean feeling better after resting in a space where your imagination is free to wander.
The Dream Lodge is a complimentary companion to Shadow Mend in that they reflect two different types of healing: the release of what no longer serves us, and the reinterpretation of what still can.
My Invitation to You
Even if you never put on a VR headset, I’m hoping these insights from my creative process are helpful. Here are questions you might want to ask yourself:
What parts of my past might bring a new insight if I looked at them differently?
Are you in a season of letting go (like Shadow Mend), or a season of reinterpretation (like The Dream Lodge)?
Is there a recurring dream or a vivid memory that is pointing you toward something or inspiring you to create something new?
Creativity sometimes just asks us to linger in our dreams.
Returning again to old collaborators, I feel a quiet joy in their presence—even if only in dreams. I’m reminded that what we’ve lived through never really leaves us. It waits, sometimes for years, to be seen with new eyes.
Each time I wander through my latest VR narrative, I imagine new discoveries will unfold. It’s all part of trusting the process. Maybe then I’ll find comfort in knowing that as I keep receiving, there will always be something new to give.