When I was a kid, I had recurring dreams about rattlesnakes for yearssss. That shit haunted me. That, and ones of skeletons at the bottom of pools trying to grab me. And one—after my dad’s accident—where he and I were walking through a graveyard and the ground opened up and swallowed us. That one was on repeat for what felt like several years, but who knows with baby brain.

Seeing this huge-ass snake the other day (watch attached video) reminded me of those early nightmares, when I was five years old—and how I would wake up from one at 4am and watch Disney Channel reruns to keep my mind distracted until the sun came up. I remember tracking from the TV to the window and back again, just waiting for day to break. Then Mom would get up for work, and off to kindergarten I would go.

I eventually told my mom about the snake dream, and she showed me a picture of a mongoose (Google it if you don’t know), and told me, “Next time you dream of a rattlesnake, try to turn yourself into this.” Apparently, mongoose are one of the few critters (cute & ferret-like) that can take out deadly snakes.

It took me time, but eventually—I did. One night, when faced with a rattlesnake, I turned myself into a mongoose. I was so fucking proud. And I never had a rattlesnake nightmare again.

That experience unlocked something for me. A tool. And from then on, I began to pay attention to dreams as if they were messages from the universe—not to be ignored. The more I did that, the more vivid and reliable they became as teachers and oracles.

They also became one of many ways to work through my fear. To face my shady shadow shit lurking in the unconscious. They helped me slowly, but surely, learn to lean into what I judged as ugly or scary or bad, and see beneath the obvious. I learned that what haunts me is begging for my attention—and that when I have the courage to turn toward it with curiosity, it usually has value.

I’ve had a fuck ton of death dreams—especially after my dad died. So many death dreams, so little time (lol)—that I eventually began embracing them as training ground for befriending the unknown. It became impossible not to. They were relentless. Again, something inside hungry for my attention.

I’ve now died a thousand ways to Sunday in my dreams: tornadoes, apocalypse’s, cars falling off bridges, etc. You name it, it’s killed me in my sleep.

I actually asked a Hindu monk about this once. I told him all about the dreams, and he shared that he believed we can sometimes work through our karma in that space—even through our complicated relationships with others, both here and departed.

And honestly, I believe it. I’ve come to feel and know, through my experiences, that things are not what they seem. I believe we are all deeply connected to each other (and to ourselves) in a place beyond words and frail form.

Shortly after that meeting with the monk, I finally had a death dream where, instead of feeling fear and terror as it came for me, I was able to let go—and right before the moment of my passing, I slipped out of my body peacefully. Literally slipped it off like it was a onesie I no longer needed. The actual dream’s description is beyond clumpy words, so I won’t even try. But it was paradigm-shattering. And I haven’t had a death dream since.

Not saying I’m ready to go, or that I’m going to just peace out hella chill-like the day death comes for me—but dreams are one tool that have helped prepare me in tiny and huge ways. This I know.

I often see it in the way I react when there’s bad turbulence on a plane, or some close call in L.A. traffic (which happens way too often), or more recently, when caught in a flash flood on the highway between Dallas and Austin, Texas.

While driving 10 mph on the freeway with sudden zero visibility, I was like, “This is insane. I could die right now. Shit—I might.”

And then I thought:

“Not ideal timing, since I’m finally opening my heart to the possibility of love again and about to spend time with a brilliant babe in Austin. But also, I can’t control nature and her timing… and eternity is now, so…”

I literally had that thought.

Then my body and mind relaxed, and I was eventually able to seek refuge off the highway. Thankfully, I landed safely in Austin an hour later. But man—those flash floods are not fucking around. Rest in peace to all those lost in the most recent. My heart is with them and their loved ones.

In case you’re wondering—continuing to go deeper didn’t work out with this woman. But that’s okay. It was a beautiful experience of immense value regardless… truly, wow... That’s another story…

I do believe that this world offers us magic and transformation regularly—even in the deepest, darkest nightmares and fears that plague us — especially in those, in fact. But in order to really receive these gifts wrapped in “black,” we must be willing, open, and curious—we must believe in the idea of gifts that come in disguise.

The gifts hiding in what appears as failure, heartbreak, unbearable loss, powerlessness, death, addiction, vulnerability, etc. There are secret messages buried in our pain, within our longing, and beyond our ideas of what we think we know about the less sexy and stable parts of this life.

The question is: Are we listening? Or have we already decided we know what something means?

If you’ve been reading me for a hot minute, you know I cherish other writers like old friends—and that means I love to quote them.

I’m also an avid reader of poetry, and this Rumi poem is an old fav that slaps—especially that opening line, which I think of regularly:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep.

I leave you with a couple questions:

What keeps showing up in your dreams, asking to be faced differently?

What challenge or loss has crossed your path that eventually revealed itself to be a gift in disguise?