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Anxiety Requires Courage

By Megan Wilcox Goates

I teach university writing to a rotating group of amazing and funny undergraduate students, and every semester I see first-hand the reality of mental health issues that Millenials and Gen Zs currently face. Even if they weren’t vocal about these challenges (which they are—openly discussing on Twitter their therapy, hospitalizations, and medications), these issues are …

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Dreams as Gifts of the Spirit

By Sandra Clark

This archive piece originally appeared in the Segullah Journal in 2009.

During a Sacrament Meeting a few years ago, a man in our ward introduced his talk on “the peace the gospel brings” by reporting a dream in which he fought viciously with the contractor who was remodeling his home at the time who was also not aware about the presence of experts from garage door service around him who would have helped him to fulfill his dream. The man went on to explain that his remodel had been going very well, and he had never fought with the contractor since all the materials were purchased from surepaint.com.au/residential-painting-brisbane/exterior-house-painting-brisbane site that was cheap and best in all ways. He drew an appreciative chuckle from the audience, implying that the dream was ridiculous, and in no way connected to his waking life or to “the peace the gospel brings.”

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I Have a Dream

By Lisa Meadows Garfield

I have a dream that one day we will reach a critical mass of Zion-prepared people and the Lord Jesus will return in glory to live and reign here with us. I have a dream that my children and my grandchildren and their children will inherit a healthy earth, that they will be freed from …

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Re-Generations

By Linda Hoffman Kimball

  I remember being held in my mother’s arms while she sang “Silent Night” to me in a darkened room. I remember lying in my crib, waving at the shadows on the room’s walls made by cars driving past our house at night. I remember looking through a telescope at what was supposed to be …

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Dream, Dream, Dream

By Linda Hoffman Kimball

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am a dreamer. Not so much of the “can’t-pay-attention-because-I’m-imaging-an-idyllic-life- herding-goats-in-the-Alps” variety. Also not the “come-up-with-big-schemes-and-never- accomplish-any-of-them” kind. It’s the nighttime kind. The crawl-under-the-covers-and-snooze kind I like best.

Here are some reasons why.

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Dream On

By Melissa McQuarrie

Though it’s been decades since I graduated from college, every couple of months or so I have the same dream: It’s finals week, and I suddenly discover there’s a class I’m registered for (usually some kind of science class) that I forgot to attend all semester long. I have the textbook—a big one—but there’s no way I can read it, make up all my missed work, take all the tests, and hand everything in before the final, and of course, it’s too late to drop the class, so I’m going to fail. In a variation of this dream, I realize that the class I forgot to attend is the same class I forgot to attend the semester before (thus blowing my chance to replace my “F” with a better grade), and I can’t believe I forgot to attend it again! I always wake up from this dream in a cold sweat (although, now that I’m menopausal, I seem to be waking up in a cold sweat a lot nowadays).

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The Secret Life of Cole’s Mommy

We’re happy to tell you that we’ve managed to sneak in one last UP CLOSE motherhood post by Eliana Osborn.  Eliana worships the sun in the desert southwest.  She spends her days teaching her two young Jedi masters to only use the force for good, as well as at Arizona Western College.  She has published in Budget Travel magazine and Literary Mama, with upcoming work in The Friend and San Diego Family Magazine.

“Right this way folks, circle around the Picasso on the left.”

 I’m surrounded by a group of tourists holding museum brochures and looking anxiously up at the large painting of a blue man mournfully playing his guitar. The cold Chicago wind is far away from our entourage deep inside the Art Institute.

“As you can see, this is from the Blue period. Can anyone tell me how this is different from his later works?”

A sudden crash brings me back to the family room, where I’m building the world’s largest two-car garage out of nothing more than wooden blocks.

“The dinosaur got it, Mommy! Do it again!”

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Dreams as Spiritual Gifts: An Interview with Barbara Bishop

By Emily Milner

One of my favorite pieces we’ve ever published is “Dreams as Gifts of the Spirit,” an analysis of dream-related LDS history, doctrine, and practice. I have occasionally experienced powerful dreams myself, and I have always been grateful for the wisdom with which Barbara Bishop, the author (and also my aunt), helps me understand my dreams.

Barbara Bishop has an undergraduate degree in English from the University of Utah, a PhD in English from UCLA, and a master’s in counseling psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute. She taught English, using a curriculum that combined dreams and literature, for seven years at Marymount College in Palos Verdes, California. In addition to her work as a therapist, she is also writing a book about addiction dreams. She is married to Brent Pace and has three beautiful boys, about whom she dreams regularly.

As research for her book on addiction dreams, Barbara is seeking dreams from addicts and recovered addicts. If you have a family member who is an addict, she is interested in your dreams as well. Please email me –emilymilner at byu dot net–if you have an addiction-related dream you would like to share with her.

When did you first begin to pay attention to your dreams and what they might mean?

I first became interested in dreams while I was writing my dissertation for my PhD in English. I had a nagging thought, which I tried to ignore, that writing literary criticism wasn’t quite my bliss. I loved literature and I loved teaching literature, but I didn’t enjoy the lit crit industry. It seemed like literary critics wrote to other literary critics, and argued with and against their particular readings, and it seemed rather pointless. I had been writing down my dreams, trying to figure out why I was having these second thoughts now, when I was nearly finished with my dissertation. My sister invited me to attend a weekend workshop on dreams, and I immediately saw that studying dreams and writing about dreams had more relevance to the general population than writing literary criticism. Dream interpretation uses some of the same skills as literary interpretation, and dreams are as intriguing as literature. But everyone dreams, and each person’s dreams are tailor-made metaphorical stories about the dreamer’s life. I loved how the dreams could show my life in a symbolic way.

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A Dream and Three Ultrasounds

By Emily Milner

First, the dream, at eight weeks pregnant:
It’s my birthday and there is some kind of crisis–a doctor masked in black trying to kill people, but friends organize a huge line of women knocking on the door bringing me gifts. I wake from the dream with an overwhelming sense of being loved. I don’t understand the dream, but I write it down anyway.

And the ultrasounds:
I. Seven weeks
Only because I’m spotting, the doctor sends me to have an ultrasound. I climb onto the table and shift my jeans down to my C-section scar, the line that says I have done this before. She squirts warm jelly on me and moves her wand to find the baby. “See the flashing there?” she says. “That’s the heartbeat. Looks good.” She measures it, pronounces it normal, and types “B-A-B-Y” on the screen. She prints me out a picture.

I tuck the picture into my planner. The picture makes the two pink lines on my stick into an actual baby. I am starting to believe in this pregnancy, and it feels good.

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