All the Things to Try

From "Did Someone You Miss Visit You Last Night?": Put a notebook and a pencil beside your bed. If you wake from a dream of someone you miss, sit up slowly, put your feet on the floor, and write down three things only: something you saw, something you heard, and something you felt. Then breathe out slowly, a little longer than you breathed in, four or five times, and lie down again.

From "Are Dreams of the Dead Rare?": Turn on one small lamp, switch off the other lights, and write five ordinary things the person you miss used to do, each on its own line, then read them back once, slowly. If someone you trust is in the house, you might read them one line or ask whether they have dreamed of that person. Fold the paper under the lamp, breathe out slowly three times, and turn off the lamp.

From "Do We Dream in Only One Kind of Sleep?": Lie down and choose a journey you know well, such as a bus route or a walk to a friend's house. Breathe in while you count to four, and on each longer breath out, name the next stop on that journey. If you lose your place, go back to the start of the line and begin again.

From "Does a Dream Last Only a Second?": On a kind evening, turn off the lights and look up at the sky from an open window for as long as one slow song would last. Then let one journey you made with the person you miss play through slowly, stop by stop, and when it reaches its end, picture turning the key in your own front door. Close the window halfway and lie down.

From "Do the Dead Come Only to Warn Us?": On a hot night, lie on your back with the window open, stop trying to sleep, and name to yourself five sounds you can hear outside, without judging them. Then breathe in for a count of four and out for a count of six, six times. If a thought about a dream comes back, let it pass like a lit window going by in the dark.

From "Does a Dream Come From Outside Us?": Take a strip of paper the size of a bus ticket, write the name of the person you miss on one side, and on the other side write one ordinary thing of theirs that you still carry. Read both sides once, slowly. Then fold the strip in half and leave it beside your bed, under the lamp or the clock.

From "Why Does She Look Younger in My Dreams?": Draw three boxes side by side, like three windows on a train. In the first, put how the person looked in your dream; in the second, how they looked the last time you saw them; in the third, how they looked at a time you liked best. Look at the boxes for a minute, without needing to explain them.

From "If I Don't Remember a Dream, Did I Dream at All?": Keep a notebook only for dreams beside your bed for a week, and write tomorrow's date on a clean page before you turn off the light. When you wake, lie still with your eyes closed for a few breaths, ask yourself where you were just now, and write down anything that is still there, or "nothing came" and the time. After a week, read the pages through once.

From "Why Was Last Night's Dream So Frightening?": After a frightening dream, switch on a small lamp, put both feet on the floor, name five things you can see and three you can hear, and breathe in for four and out for six, five or six times. Drink a little water if you like, tell yourself "That was a dream, and this is my room," and lie down again, with the lamp on if you want it. In the morning, if the dream still bothers you, write it down and give it a new last line.

From "Can You Know You Are Dreaming?": A few times during the day, ask yourself quietly whether you are dreaming, then read a short line of writing, look away, and read it again. In bed with the light off, picture a place you love, one detail at a time, and tell yourself once, softly, that you would like to notice if you are dreaming there. Then let the thought go, breathe out longer than you breathe in, and let sleep come first.

From "Who Was Sitting at the End of My Bed?": If you wake and cannot move, tell yourself, "This is sleep paralysis. My body is still in dream sleep, and it will pass," and do not fight against your arms and legs. Let the breath out be a little longer than the breath in, and put all your attention on one small movement, a finger, a toe or a slow blink. Afterwards, sit up, switch on a small lamp until the room is ordinary again, lie down on your side, and give your sleep a steadier timetable where you can.

From "Does Grief Move in Steps, Like Stations on a Line?": In bed with your eyes closed, stand in the doorway of a room that belonged to the person you miss, and walk through it slowly, finding five small details one at a time. If sadness comes, let it come like a wave lifting the deck, and keep breathing out a little longer than in. Then walk back to the doorway, switch off the light in that room, and let yourself drift.

From "Do People Everywhere Treat These Dreams the Same Way?": On a card, finish the sentence "If I dream of someone I miss tonight, in the morning I will" with one ending that feels right, such as telling the dream to one person at breakfast, setting out a cup of tea or a glass of water for a minute, or writing the dream down and folding it away. Put the card where your morning begins. Then breathe in for four and out for six, five times.

From "Must We Stop Dreaming of Them to Heal?": Write a postcard of a few lines to someone you miss, telling them one plain thing from your day. Read it once, slowly, in a quiet voice, then fold it and keep it somewhere safe, where other cards can join it. Turn off the light and breathe out longer than you breathe in, a few times.

From "What Do We Say When We Wake?": Fold a sheet of paper into three like a timetable leaflet, and draw where the dream happened, who was there, and what was in someone's hands. Give the dream a title of your own, and if it was a hard dream, you may add something to the last panel that was not in it, such as a lamp switched on or an open door. Say the title aloud once, then lie down and breathe slowly.

From "Will She Still Come When the Year Is Over?": Switch on one small lamp, turn off the others, and say the person's name aloud once, in an ordinary voice. Tell one memory of them in three sentences, where they were, what they were doing with their hands, and one thing they said, to someone beside you or only to the lamp. Breathe in slowly, breathe out a little longer, and turn the lamp off when you are ready.