You wake up, arms still outstretched, slightly annoyed that gravity exists. Flying dreams are so common that two of history's most influential thinkers wrote about them centuries apart — and their takes could not be more different. Here's what they actually said.
So what's the oldest take we have?
Meet Artemidorus of Daldis, a Greek writer from the 2nd century CE who produced the Oneirocritica — the oldest surviving Greek dream manual we have. Flying dreams get real estate in his work, but here's the twist that makes his approach genuinely interesting: according to the Oneirocritica, the meaning of a flying dream isn't fixed. It depends on the dreamer. Artemidorus built his whole framework around the idea that context — who you are, what your life looks like — shapes what a dream means. There's no single "flying = freedom" verdict stamped on every sleeper. Same dream, different person, different reading. Honestly, that's a more nuanced position than a lot of modern pop-psychology takes.
Then Freud showed up and made it about, well, Freud things
Fast-forward to 1900. Sigmund Freud publishes The Interpretation of Dreams and dedicates discussion to what he calls "typical dreams" — the ones so many people share that they seem to mean something universal. Flying and floating dreams land in this category. Freud's framework treats these shared dream experiences as worthy of serious psychological interpretation rather than random noise. Whether you fully buy his conclusions or not, the fact that he grouped flying dreams with other recurring human experiences is its own kind of validation: you are not weird for having this dream. You are, in fact, extremely on-brand as a human being.
What do both of them actually agree on?
More than you'd expect. Both Artemidorus and Freud treat flying dreams as meaningful — worth examining rather than dismissing as random brain static. And both, in their own ways, resist a one-size-fits-all answer. Artemidorus explicitly ties meaning to the individual dreamer. Freud situates flying dreams within a broader psychological framework where personal context still matters. Neither one hands you a tidy fortune-cookie verdict.
That's actually the most useful takeaway: flying dreams have fascinated serious thinkers across nearly two millennia, and the honest answer from both traditions is that your version of the dream is the one worth sitting with. What's happening in your life right now? What did the flying feel like — exhilarating, effortless, terrifying? The oldest dream manual in the Greek tradition would tell you that's exactly the right question to ask.
So next time you wake up mid-flight, annoyed to find yourself horizontal in a bed: you're in good company. Artemidorus was taking notes. Freud had thoughts. And the dream is still yours to interpret.
- Artemidorus of Daldis, Oneirocritica (2nd century CE) — the oldest surviving Greek dream manual, documenting flying dream readings and the principle that meaning depends on the individual dreamer.
- Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams (1900) — Freud's foundational work discussing flying and floating dreams as examples of typical, widely shared dream experiences.
This article is offered for cultural reflection and historical curiosity, not as prediction, diagnosis, or psychological advice.
Lunaple is your space to explore the patterns, symbols, and themes showing up in your inner world — no crystal ball required, just good questions.
Explore LunapleFor entertainment purposes only. Not a substitute for professional, medical, legal, or financial advice.
← Back to the Journal