Yesterday, while journaling my dreams, it occurred to me: dreams are the unconscious’ body of work.
As I draft and revise my next romance novel, all the while my unconscious is adding scenes and chapters to the long-running series it’s been working on since the day I was born. (Maybe even before?)
Kind of trippy, right?
Just as we can look to an author’s body of work and spot recurring elements and themes, our dreams carry recognizable psychic fingerprints.
From a Jungian POV, the majority of dreams serve a compensatory function—meaning, they show us what’s missing from our conscious point of view. And not just anything we’ve overlooked—but precisely the material our ego isn’t engaging with. And until we do, our growth remains stalled.
Often, the more important a dream is to our growth, the more likely it is to be dismissed, minimized, or forgotten—precisely because the ego finds it threatening.
Of course, dreams can also serve other purposes. Some offer messages from ancestors. Some glimpse possible futures. Many work with archetypes bigger than any one personal psyche. But in my experience, the vast majority of dreams are gently trying to balance us out by highlighting what our conscious mind would prefer to ignore.
Even dreams that start off enjoyable (flirty, spicy dreams, for instance) typically take a turn. One minute things are gettin’ good…and the next they’re gettin’ gross.
Want a personal example? It’s a little ick—fair warning! I once had a dream where I was making out with a celebrity crush, and my ego was like:

And then, out of nowhere…there was so much saliva. Like, soooo much. 🤢
To be clear, dreams don’t have to veer into full-on nightmare territory for the compensatory function to play out. The point is, the unconscious throws a twist into the plot—one the ego didn’t choose.
If we think of a dream as a map, when things are humming along in a way the ego finds pleasing—or at the very least, comprehensible—we’re situated more firmly in the ego’s territory.
But if the story takes a turn in a way the ego finds frightening, disgusting, or plain old confusing, we’ve wandered more into the realm of the unconscious.
This experience isn’t always unpleasant, because the ego can also experience the unconscious as fascinating, awe-inspiring, and sacred—giving rise to some of the most profound, consciousness-altering dreams.

The Mysterious Realm (Inside Your Head)
If we wander deeper into unconscious territory, chances are we’ll encounter repeating dream elements. These are vital clues—breadcrumbs leading us toward something meaningful.
In Jungian psychology, these repeated themes often point to complexes: emotionally charged psychic structures that form when we experience something we can’t fully integrate.
Maybe it was too overwhelming at the time.
Maybe it contradicted our self-image in a way that felt threatening.
Maybe we were too young to make sense of it.
Each complex is like a mini solar system. At its center is a powerful archetypal theme, which acts like a magnet, attracting beliefs, memories, symbols, defense strategies, etc.
Jung observed that each solar system is held in orbit by a feeling-tone—a kind of emotional glue. If the complex is activated, chances are you’ll experience that emotion—sometimes just a teensy blip, other times a tsunami.
These complexes operate beneath the surface, powerfully shaping how we see and react to the world—and how we dream.
We can’t observe a complex directly, given that it’s unconscious. But we can learn to notice its effects in our waking life (like paying attention to when a particular feeling-tone arises).
But the royal road to the unconscious—or via regia, as Jung called it—is the complex.
If our dreams are the body of work of the unconscious, then the primary authors are the complexes. They draft scenes night after night, trying to help us metabolize what we couldn’t face head-on.
This Is Where Things Get Magical
Let’s go back to the metaphor of dreams as a psychic landscape, and combine that with the idea that dreams serve a compensatory function.
This means that if we explore our dream territory—particularly those areas that feel uncomfortable or incomprehensible to the ego—we’re building a map of what our ego cannot see on its own.
This is profound.
Think about it: Our unconscious isn’t bound by space and time. It sees our life from a much more expansive POV than the ego ever could. And in dreams, we’re not being shown a random photo dump of unconscious material.
We’re being shown a carefully curated progression of images, with the goal of highlighting exactly where we need to grow…and how to do it.
It’s sort of like soul syllabus!
To access yours, you might start by tracking any or all of the following:
- 🏖️ Settings that recur in your dreams (abandoned buildings, luxury hotels, high school classrooms, gross public bathrooms)
- 💓 Emotional tones that crop up again and again (frustration, shame, awe, curiosity)
- 🤝 Interactions with people or forces (conflict, intimacy, avoidance)
- 🚦 Goals or actions you’re always trying to reach—and what stops or supports them
If your unconscious keeps guiding you to similar dream terrains, there’s a reason.
Through journaling, meditation, therapy, and/or magical techniques, you can map recurring dream themes onto waking life patterns. For instance, my dreams often point toward my relationship to money and what it means to be seen (or ignored).
Want to Go Deeper?
I’m considering creating a guide that blends Jungian dreamwork with magical practice—a way to deepen your relationship with your dreams and use them as a portal to transformation.
Here are a few of the practices I might include:
- 🌒 Using tarot to reenter your dreamscape and speak directly to the figures or forces within it
- 🕯️ Designing spells using dream insights and the emotional charge baked into dream scenes
- 🔮 Creating sigils that encode a dream’s message and support its integration into waking life
- ✍️ Tracking feeling-tones across dreams to spot which complexes are authoring recurring plot lines—and what they’re trying to resolve
- 🌿 Energetic mapping of dream settings to discover where the terrain of your unconscious overlaps with stuck patterns in waking life
Life doesn’t come with a user’s manual, unfortunately, but dreams can be a powerful compass.
Chances are, your dreams have been circling something important all along.
What might change if you gave them your full attention?
💌 P.S. There was a poll in the email version of this post, asking readers if they’d be into a Dream Magic Guide.
If you want to chime in on future offerings (and get first dibs on new magical content), hop on my email list below. I’d love to have you in the magic circle.
