This is the first of the three practices in this part, and the other two depend on it. If you cannot remember your nights, nothing else here can help you.

Memories of the night are fragile. They live in the stillness of the body. Turn over, reach for your phone or think about the day, and they scatter. Within a few minutes most are gone.

So the practice happens in the first minute. Do not move. Keep your eyes closed. Ask the night one question: Where was I? Then wait. Usually a single image comes back first: a face, a place or a feeling. Hold it, and the scene around it often returns.

Then write it down. Write every dream, even the dull ones. The dull ones matter most. They train the memory, and people who note only exciting dreams soon remember very few.

Write on paper, speak into a recording, or use the journal in this app, which keeps your dreams private to you. Before sleep, read the last few nights. It tells the deep mind that the night is worth keeping.

Expect little at first: a fragment, a mood, or nothing at all. Keep the habit anyway. Within a few weeks, most people remember more than they ever have.