Once, children dreamed of endless forests, dragons, flying houses. 🌙 Today, when asked about their nights, they say: “I was scrolling. Searching for something. I couldn’t get out.” 📱
Dreams aren’t universal. They’re shaped by waking life. And since 2010, children’s dream narratives have shifted. Fewer creatures. Less nature. More streams, searches, dead ends. As if the digital world had seeped into their sleep. đź§
Specialized therapists report rising cases of navigation dreams: kids lost in video tunnels, blocked by giant pop-ups, chased by notifications. Not monsters. Algorithms. 👾
Researchers now describe the collapse of the wild dream: the slow disappearance of free, absurd, organic dreams, replaced by structured, linear, often anxious scenarios. The brain dreams like it lives: in interface mode. 🌀
In South Korea, a study found 68% of children aged 8 to 12 dream of “not finding the off button.” In Spain, kids describe nightmares of falling into a screen. Not emptiness. But digital emptiness. 🖥️
The worst? Some children no longer remember their dreams. Not because they forget. But because they don’t experience them. Sleep is fragmented, monitored, often preceded by screens. The brain no longer reaches deep dream stages. It drifts. 🌫️
Schools in Finland have reintroduced the “dream journal”: each morning, students draw or write their dreams. Result? Within 3 months, dream recall increases by 40%. And dreams regain trees, animals, invented worlds. 📓
In the Amazon, Indigenous children still dream of jaguars, talking rivers, shape-shifting. No coincidence: their days are screen-free, shaped by nature, rituals, silence. Their brains dream freely. 🌿
Yet some ancient dreams endure. Flying. Being naked in public. Failing an exam. These deep archetypes survive… but now unfold in virtual classrooms or Zoom meetings. 🛸
Perhaps the dream is the last free space. And protecting it means preserving a world inside us where nothing is optimized — where anything can happen. 🌌