Big share time! A project that’s been in the works for nearly 2 years is finally making its way into this material world!

I’ve created a series of hand-made dream journals that fit in the palm of your hand. The journals themselves are upcycled from a local coffee shop and each one incorporates my own collages. The inside pages include my favorite quotes from the following texts: Rest is Resistance by Tricia Hersey, Undertorah: An Earth-Based Kabbalah of Dreams by Jill Hammer, and We Want To Do More Than Survive: Abolitionist Teaching and the Pursuit of Educational Freedom by Bettina L. Love. It’s through these texts I learned the connection between rest, dreams, & liberation.

We can’t get free if we’re exhausted.

We can’t get free without imagination & creativity dreaming us into the future.

We also can’t get free if we aren’t tapped into our dreams, a collective space where ancestors, spirits, guides, creatures, nature, & God show us the support we need to move forward.

To those who purchase a journal, the invitation is for you to fill these pages with your dreams -- both the dreams you experience at night while asleep as well as the daydreams you drift off to while awake. These two dream spaces are interconnected, working together, and relying on one another to transform our lives.

It’s no coincidence that I’m releasing this project during the Hebrew month of Kislev, the month known as “the month of dreams.” For one thing, the days are getting shorter and the nights longer, gently ushering us into more hibernation, rest, sleep, and dreaming. Additionally, the weekly Torah portions we read this month include more tellings of dreams than anywhere else in the Torah.

For an art fundraiser this month, it is my *dream* to offer these to my community. 18% of donations will go to a young mama in my life who needs some extra support accessing her dreams & rest. Let me know even if you aren’t interested in a dream journal but would still like to offer support to this new mama.

In this post, I’ll share more photos of the journals. I’ll also share stories & insights into the ways my dreams have guided me, enlivened me, and provided major healing to my physical, emotional, & spiritual self.

Blue

This blue dream journal carries the energy of my grandmother. My Savta and I didn’t have a close relationship because we lived in faraway countries and a language barrier kept us distant. One night during a visit 12 years ago she was sleeping in one room while I was asleep in a separate room. My aunt told me it sounded like we were having a conversation with one another in our sleep. My aunt said it sounded like gibberish, but the two of us were clearly in dialogue.

When my Savta passed in recent years, I felt waves of grief losing a matriarch I wish I knew more of. And to comfort me in my grief, she visited me in my dreams and chose a language we both understood: she spoke to me through her paintings. In the dream, I enter her house and the walls are covered in her paintings. The paintings come alive -- they are stirring, moving, flowing, magical and sparkling and full of her energy/presence. The paintings don't “say” anything but rather offer me the energy of “I am here, I am with you. We are connected through art and the act of creation.”

In a class called Jewish Ancestral Healing, Rav Kohenet Taya Mâ teaches: “The living and the dead are two distinct social groups. The boundary between the two was once soft. It hardened over time. We are reclaiming the softer boundary. The living and the dead can and do communicate, can and do impact one another. It’s a reciprocal relationship that goes both ways. We are connecting with our loved ones for nurturance and support in a way that is accessible to all. Ancestor work is decolonizing our relationship with the dead.”

I’m now returning from a trip to Israel and I got to feel my Savta’s presence all over. Several family members remark how similar we look, how we have the same shaped eyes and round face; her paintings of beautiful flowers and naked women cover the walls; cousins are moved to tears when sharing tender stories about her while also being moved to great laughter when thinking about how stubborn she was; photo albums show her falling in love, celebrating Bar-Mitzvahs, dressing up for Purim; great-grandchildren are baking cheesecake with her original recipe; my aunt tells me “Savta always had vivid dreams.”

Time with my Savta in this realm may have passed, yet I find great comfort in Jewish tradition that provides dreamwork, rituals & prayers for us to evolve our reciprocal relationship. May this dream journal bless your relationship with your matriarchs, both living & dead, and your creativity.

Purple 1

This purple dream journal invites us to speak our truth and honor multiple truths.

Sometimes my subconscious is the first to show me there’s something I’m holding back from saying. In my dreams, my mouth is filled with all kinds of materials that prevent me from speaking or create barriers to my authentic expression. In one dream, my mouth is full of lavender and I’m being suffocated as I’m trying to speak. In other dreams, sticky substances like glue and peanut butter trap my jaws shut as I’m trying to speak out against harm. In many dreams, I have metal contraptions creating pain and discomfort in my mouth, all while my teeth are crumbling out. These dreams sound violent and uncomfortable and to tell the truth they are. And it’s because my subconscious knows the violence of suppressing my voice, my truth.

Other times I’m aware in my awakened life of the conversations I need to have, but I’m stalling or avoiding them because I don’t feel ready. In those cases, I can’t tell you the number of times my dreams have prepared me for difficult conversations. My dreams become rehearsals; I’m confronted with the people I need to talk with, I fumble over my words, I rehearse the apologies, I scream the things my rage usually doesn’t get space for, I figure out what my boundaries are, and I practice voicing my needs, using the I statements, and expressing my authentic hurt. It’s in these dreams I discover the root of what I’m trying to say & why it matters to me.

May this dream journal be a blessing for truth and courage, rehearsal and practice. May we speak the truths our ancestors never got to speak. May multiple truths be given the space to exist and may we be blessed with the resource to hold one another in our complexities. May our truths bring us closer together and foster deeper connection. May all truths be uplifted, listened to, honored, and cherished.

Yellow

This yellow dream journal offers support for familial healing.

My dreams from my teenage years were filled with nightmares. They were invasive, vivid, and terrifying. As I’ve gotten older, I don’t have many dreams like that anymore and I believe it has a lot to do with the safety I now have in my home, relationship, and body. It’s through my dreams (and therapy, let’s be real) that I was able to confront some deep childhood fears, receive support from all-giving forces, and make peace with my family members in a new & loving way.

In one dream, my parents are screaming at one another. I begin to sink into the couch, trying to disappear. Then I realize I have another option. Instead of enduring it (like I did as a child, bless her, she didn’t have the options I do now) I take my body outside. The screaming fades into the background and I dig my hands deep into cold, soft, dirt. The moon provides soft light and watches over me.

In another dream, my Aba and I are flying on a magic carpet over expansive lands & waters. It starts to tilt and we’re falling off. “We just have to land into the water and we’ll be fine,” my Aba says. “Trust me.” -- Trusting him was not really an option for many years of my childhood. In fact, I used to have many dreams of bombs going off, war happening all around, and I’m searching for his protection and he’s nowhere to be found. But this dream was different; God was showing me something in our dynamic was shifting and we were going to begin relating in a new way. -- As the carpet tilts, he falls off first and I grab onto his arm. We land gracefully & easefully into the water. He takes my hand and walks us through the water onto the land. Him in front, me following behind, we set off into the sun on a journey. “Follow me,” he says. And I do.

May this dream journal be a blessing for your healing, protection, and safety. May your dreams support you in discovering & honoring your boundaries, especially around your bodily autonomy. May your dreams provide refuge for your being, for your past, present, and future self. May your dreams remind you of the protection, nurturance, and support of the earth & the waters, the sun & the moon.

Purple 2

This purple dream journal encourages us to learn from rage and tend to heartbreak.

In his book Love and Rage, Lama Rod Owens describes anger as an “indicator that my heart is broken.” Instead of being reactive or compulsive with that anger, our real work is to tend to the hurt, the woundedness that lies beneath. Only then will our responses bring us closer to connection, humanity, & freedom.

In one dream, I’m a counselor at summer camp and young boys are wreaking havoc. They are shouting, running around destroying things, won't listen to counselors or participate with peers. I’m the only adult who seems to notice and I’m furious. I look around for someone to respond or join me. But I’m alone. I’m fuming. I’m standing at the bottom of a balcony and notice a boy climbing unsafely at the top. I ask him to come down and he spits on my face. Astonished, I look around to see if anyone saw that and if they were going to come intervene. They don’t. Then, the boy’s father replaces him and spits on my face. Again, I look around. Nobody comes to help. Finally, the boy’s grandfather replaces the father and he, too, spits on my face. I look around for support. Nobody notices. I’m alone.

Whenever I wake up from dreams, I focus on the emotions in addition to the plotline. With this one, it was pure rage. Not despair, not fear. Rage. It took some learning & unlearning to realize the rage I feel around patriarchal violence is rooted in heartbreak. The heartbreak of being dehumanized and feeling alone in that dehumanization.

It’s also clear to me the heartbreak in this dream is not mine alone -- it belongs to generations before me. It’s my mother’s heartbreak and her mother’s heartbreak and all women that came before. And I find great comfort in this. Because if I can inherit their heartbreak, I know I’m inheriting their strength.

May this dream journal be a blessing for your individual heartbreak and rage, for our collective heartbreak and rage.

Pink 1

This pink dream journal is a prayer for all bodies.

Gaining weight over the past few years showed me that my love for my body was conditional and it unearthed a level of fatphobia I wasn’t conscious of. For months I stared in the mirror with disgust and looked to therapy and a body liberation cohort (shoutout Talia Cooper and her I Have Body program!) to support me in my awakened life. I didn’t realize my dreamworld would play such a huge part in supporting me, too.

In one dream, I’m in a fashion show. I stand in line with all the other models, noticing their beautiful, intricate outfits. As for me? I’m wearing every article of clothing from smaller versions of myself that no longer fit. The shirts roll up, the pants squeeze me out, the fabrics outdated & ugly. I tug at the clothes, trying to get them to cover my body. Eventually I just say fuck it. As soon as I walk onto the catwalk, I lose control of my limbs. My legs wobble, arms flail, joints collapse, and I’m left with no other option but enjoy myself and laugh at how ridiculous this all is! And that was the breakthrough I needed: there’s no controlling my body, it’s laughable to believe otherwise, and why not just enjoy the body I’m in?

In a later dream, I’m climbing a dangerous mountain. Other people climb around me, yet we’re each on our own separate climb. As my muscles get tired and my hands lose their grip, I begin to doubt I’ll make it and really consider the possibility of me falling to my death. As I approach the top, an older man sits on the edge dangling his feet. I reach my hand out to him so he can help me to the top. He gives me a reassuring nod: Maya, you know you are the only one who can get you here. I feel again into my arm and leg muscles, their tight grips shaking. “Trusting my body is the only way I can do this.” I launch my body upward in a complete act of faith and I make it. On top, I’m greeted by a group of people dancing & celebrating in a circle who just completed the same journey.

May this dream journal be a blessing for your precious body. May it be a blessing for every precious body that ever was, that is, and that will be. May larger bodies be given the space to exist & thrive freely. May imagining a world free of fatphobia fill us with delight, tenderness, & possibility.

Pink 2

I dropped off the pink dream journal in what I thought was my friend’s mailbox. Turns out it wasn’t and when my friend checked for it, the dream journal was gone.

I felt and still feel heartbroken over this. How could something I worked on for 2 years just disappear? Right at the moment it was ready to be gifted to someone else?

Hard emotions are always easier for me to move through when I’m making something with my hands. So what else could I do but make a new dream journal today?

This dream journal holds the same energy as the one we lost -- it’s a prayer for all bodies. But I can’t deny it has some new energy, too. For one thing, I got to create brand new collages! I made the collages for the other journal about a year ago. So it was fun to put some new creative energy into this project.

This dream journal also holds the creative energy of three brilliant artists, @mariah.lifeisart , @jessabriecreates , and @adiamillett . I received this physical notebook in a workshop they facilitated at MoAD on the theme of “Breaking Patterns.” Their labor & love moved me on that day as I worked with my relationship to scarcity. All three of them were with me as I repurposed this notebook.

There’s also no denying that this dream journal holds some grief. Grief that the first one is gone, grief that the holiday season puts so much pressure on us to prove our love & worth through material possessions, grief that capitalism continues to degrade our dignity, grief that somebody out there doesn’t have the resources they need and stealing became an option. This dream journal is a blessing for that body and all the bodies they love. May it offer the healing it needs to.

May this dream journal bless your body, your heart, your grief, your creativity, and whatever it is you do with your hands.

dream journals for rest & freedom