One morning, my girlfriend and I woke up at the same time. As we lay there, I casually mentioned that I had dreamed we were in an old hotel. She immediately asked me to tell her more—because she had just awakened from the same dream.
As we compared notes, the shared nature of the experience became unmistakable.
I asked her why I hadn’t seen her until the second half of the dream. She explained that she had spent the first half driving around Dallas, searching for the place. “I had no idea you were going to stick it way out in the country,” she said. I then asked why, when she finally arrived and got out of her car, she hadn’t waved back at me as I stood on the roof waving to her. She replied that she had seen men working on the roof, but didn’t realize I was one of them—and hadn’t seen anyone wave.
Next, I asked about the slim girl with very long black hair who had stepped out of the passenger side of her car. My girlfriend stared at me in astonishment before exclaiming, “That was my best friend from Oklahoma—whom you’ve never met!” In my dream, that same girl had later approached me alone, shaken my hand, and introduced herself as my girlfriend’s close friend.
Then my girlfriend began asking me questions—about details I hadn’t yet mentioned. She asked whether I remembered that many of the rooms had no Sheetrock on the walls between them, only exposed 2×4 framing, allowing us to walk directly through the walls from room to room. That detail, among others, confirmed beyond doubt that we had truly shared the same dream.
More than a year later, we found that hotel.
We bought it.
We moved in.
And yes—the second and third floors had never been finished. There was no Sheetrock between many of the rooms, only exposed framing, allowing us to walk through the walls exactly as we had in the dream. I later found myself sitting on the very spot on the roof from which I had waved to her when she arrived in the dream. In waking life, I was there simply because it was the best place to dry items in the sun. I was completely alone—no workers beside me, no one below near the street.
Yet the place itself was unmistakable.
Sharing dreams with another person is not as rare as many assume. There is an entire book devoted to such experiences—Mutual Dreaming: When Two or More People Share the Same Dream—which contains more than two hundred documented accounts from people who have experienced the same phenomenon.
For those willing to look beyond conventional assumptions about consciousness, such experiences quietly suggest that dreams are not always private—and that time, place, and awareness may be far more interconnected than we are taught to believe.