The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up.—Paul Valery
The story is told of a Lubavitch devotee whose two teenage sons excelled in Torah study. One day, he received the dreaded news: his family had been selected in the Russian military draft lottery, and one of the boys would be conscripted into the oppressive, anti-Semitic Russian army.
The father immediately journeyed to R’ Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the Alter Rebbe, and told him of the terrible decree.
But the Rebbe’s reaction seemed harsh. “What do you want from me? Am I a government minister?”
The father was reduced to tears. “Why does the Rebbe distance himself from me? I cleave to the Rebbe just as the other disciples.”
“Oh? And who says you are one of my followers?”
“I am,” insisted the father. “I was in Lubavitch last year and this year, and I have retained fully all the Torah insights spoken by the Rebbe.”
Now the Rebbe’s mood shifted dramatically. “With G-d’s help your sons will be saved. Now, travel to Liepli. There, you will find a man named so-and-so who will help you.”
Naturally, the father journeyed to Liepli at once. Arriving shortly before dawn, he went to the man’s house, where he was let in and shown to the living room.
It was still very early in the morning, and the father could hear the master of the house pacing noisily to and fro, as if possessed or drunk.
Finally, the master of the house entered the living room with great energy to greet his visitor. “Where are you from?” the man asked.
When the father answered that he was from Chesnick, the master of the house began to dance wildly. “He’s from Chesnick! He’s from Chesnick!”
When he finally calmed down, the master of the house explained that it had been five years since he last saw the Rebbe. The previous night, he dreamed that the Rebbe was in his house pleading for him to help the man from Chesnick. But he knew no man from Chesnick.
“When I awoke this morning, I was confused and disoriented. Then I met you and learned that you are from Chesnick. My soul exploded! Now I know it wasn’t just a silly dream. Tell me your problem and I will do my best to assist you.”
The father told of the disastrous decree. The master of the house explained that such decrees were nearly impossible to alter, but, with G-d’s help, everything would work out for the best. And, with that, he headed off to the government complex.
After nearly the entire day, the master of the house returned, exhausted but full of joy. “No razor shall touch his head,” he quoted. “Your sons are free.”
The Torah contains no shortage of significant dreams. We are told of Yaakov’s dreams not once, but twice—leaving Eretz Yisrael (Bereishis 28:12-15) and when summoned to return (Bereishis 31:10-13). G-d appeared to Avimelech to warn him not to harm Sara (Bereishis 20:3-7), and to Lavan to warn him not to attack Yaakov (Bereishis 31:24). Yosef dreamed about his brothers and parents bowing to him (Bereishis 37:29). Paroh’s butler and baker dreamed about their fates (Bereishis 40:10-16). Paroh dreamed about the fate of his land and people (Bereishis 41:2-4; see also Shoftim 7:13; Daniel 2:31-35).
Time would reveal the truth and meaning of these latter dreams. Yosef’s brothers did bow to him, and Egypt indeed enjoyed seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine (Bereishis 42:6; Bereishis 46, 47).
But how meaningful are our dreams?
On the on hand, no dream is without some amount of nonsense (Berachos 55a), and “the words of dreams neither elevate nor cause descent” (Gittin 52a; Sanhedrin 30a; Horayos 13b; Bereishis Rabba 80:9). On the other hand, the dreams mentioned in the Torah seem to carry substantial significance, and dreams are deemed to be one-sixtieth of prophecy (Berachos 57b).
A person should dream—and dream big. Aspire to greatness. Any Jew can be as great as Moshe Rabbeinu (Rambam, Hilchos Teshuva 5:2). Indeed, a Jew who doesn’t dream once in seven days is termed “bad” (Berachos 14a). We were not meant to be complacent. We were meant to yearn, to strive, to hope. We were meant to dream.
Yet, not every dream is legitimate or desirable, and there are several responses to the seemingly bad dream, each of which is intended to assist us in improving our ways (see Berachos 59a; Yerushalmi, Sanhedrin 10; Mishna Berura 220:6).
First, there is “hatavas chalom”—“dream rectification”—where the dreamer gathers three friends, who declare, “It is good, and it will be good” (Berachos 55b; Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 220:1). In so doing, the friends seek creative ways to interpret the dream positively and place a positive spin on the vision.
Second, the dreamer can declare a personal fast day (“taanis chalom”) to nullify a bad decree—which fast should be observed the same day as the dream, even if it is Shabbos (Berachos 31b; Shabbos 11a; Shulchan Aruch 220:2). And while one is not obligated to declare such a fast (Magen Avraham 288:5; Pele Yo’etz, “Chalom”; Rivash 513; Rashba 132), fasting is of value only if accompanied by sincere repentance (Mishna Berura 220:6; Ta’amei HaMinhagim 666).
Finally, there is a special prayer to be recited during the blessing of the Kohanim (Berachos 55b; Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 130).
(As an aside, Sara Hurwitz usurped and distorted this prayer in describing the inspiration for her ascent to clergyhood, referencing the custom during the blessing of the Kohanim to recite a paragraph that begins with “Chalom cholamti”—“I dreamed a dream.” Of course, Cleric Hurwitz conveniently glosses over the very next words of that prayer: “and I do not know what it means.” I am sure Cleric Hurwitz dreamed a dream; I am equally sure that she does not know what it means. But I digress.)
So, by all means, dream. Heck, dream big. But also find ways to convert those dreams into reality.
While an uninterpreted dream is akin to an unread letter (Berachos 55a), we are taught that “all dreams follow the mouth,” i.e., the import of a dream depends upon the interpretation given it (Berachos 55b).
This is so not because the interpreter possesses some paranormal power but because the interpretation becomes a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy by which the dreamer acts on the dream as interpreted (Abarbanel, Bereishis 40:24). Dreams follow their interpretation—not vice versa. Dreams, without more, are of little consequence; it is what we make of them that counts. By extension, explains the Abarbanel, the truest dreams are those that inspire positive action. Dreams show us our potential future. It is up to us to act upon them.
Reb Bunim of P’shischa would relate the following story to those who sought to join his ranks (see Shabbos Inbox, Queens Jewish Link, Vol. 1, No. 12).
There once was a poor man named R’ Yitzchak who lived in Krakow. One night, he dreamed about a treasure trove buried beneath a bridge in Prague. He decided to ignore the dream, but it repeated itself the next night. And the night after. So, unable to ignore the dream any longer, he set out for Prague in pursuit of the treasure.
In Prague, he saw the bridge exactly as it had appeared in his dream. But there was a problem: the bridge guarded by soldiers who would not permit him to dig. Day after day, R’ Yitzchak went to the bridge hoping the soldiers would not be there. Day after day, R’ Yitzchak returned to his inn empty-handed.
After several days, the soldiers became suspicious. “Jew!” they summoned him. “What is your business here?”
R’ Yitzchak told them of his dream. The guards laughed. “Fool!” one of them barked. “If I were stupid enough to chase dreams I would be in Krakow right now digging under the oven of some Jew named Isaac.”
R’ Yitzchak immediately understood the import of the soldier’s words—the treasure was buried beneath the oven of his home. Returning to Krakow, R’ Yitzchak dug up the considerable treasure and lived out his days in comfort.
Reb Bunim would explain that it is not enough to have dreams. One must chase them, digging deep within oneself to find the meaning if necessary. We determine our own fate.
Since dreams are a reflection of our conscious thoughts (Berachos 55b; see Moreh Nevuchim 2:36), to some degree, it is in our power to latch on to our nobler dreams—both our sleeping and our waking ones—and to put in the effort to make them come true.
Indeed, during “dollars”—the time when the Lubavitcher Rebbe would hand out dollars to those who came in search of advice or blessing—a Jew once told the Lubavitcher Rebbe that he saw the Rebbe in a dream and kissed his hand, but that the hand disappeared. The Rebbe replied, “May it be G-d’s will that all your dreams be for good. But involve yourself not in dreams but in reality, spreading Yiddishkeit and doing all good things.”
Many people dream. And while they’re busy dreaming, the really happy people, the really successful people, the really engaged people are busy doing. In the end, it is not so much whether our dreams are real, but whether we have the courage and fortitude to make them so.