“We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter’s evening. Some of us let these great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them; nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true.”
Last night I drempt in blog posts. Seriously. Like, I would see a photo and read the text below it as a dream, and yet at the same time it was my life and I could feel it. And the posts? They aren’t things that have happened yet. Usually I don’t remember dreams at all. Like, I don’t think I even have dreams most times.
And this overuse of the word like thing? I think I also moved to the valley while I slept.
So one dream went like this:
Lashes! (Yes, there was an exclamation point IN MY DREAM.)
It’s amazing the things we girls seem to have this innate desire for, a pulling of sorts, for us to find and fulfill… full, lush lashes like the ones we coo over when we see a blessed little babe sporting a thicker lash line than ours. Love like a fairytale starring our own prince charming to come sweep us off our feet. A bicycle to call our own, to feel proud to ride down the street in front of our neighborhood friends.
Being a third child, and the only girl in a family of boys, I was blessed with many things, but also the receiver of many hand-me-downs from boys. So the closest I came to pedaling my way down our narrow neighborhood street on a pink princess bike was riding the long beautiful schwinn-like curves of candy apple red, though it wasn’t a schwinn. And then one day it happened, I woke up to a set of two wheels attached to the pinkest pieces of metal and covered in tiaras. And I think riding that bike lasted a summer, because by the next one I was too old for pink and princesses.
By the way, I think my daughter is riding the incarnation of that bike and LOVES it… And it’s from my parents.
Oh and now? I try and replicate that gorgeous schwinn-worthy candy apple red in nail laquer and lip polish.
Did it make much sense? Not really.
Also, I drempt that I was fighting off a mama alligator to protect myself from a mama cheeta, who at some point earlier had stepped on my hand and didn’t know it because I held still, LIKE A CHAMPION.
And I rocked. I faught and I outsmarted. The best part? I was wearing the cutest outfit EVER. And the boots? The were TO DIE FOR. Except not literally, because I think I lost one of the boots to the alligator while I was staying alive.
(And, if you’re wondering, I did see the actual outfit and boots in my dream, and it seems I don’t know how to put together two sentences in my dreams without using a question mark or capital letters. And I guess im pretty ironic in my dreams as well. Who knew?)
Maybe it was the pizza.
But I will say that the dreams I nourish and protect, the ones I see through the rainy days just as clearly as through the ones full of bright and happy rays of sunshine, are the dreams of hope for my two little free spirits.
My dream is to see theirs flourish, for them to know that whatever it is they desire and aspire to, there will always be a grandstand of celebration for them… for just being them.
And on days where tears cover our cheeks, where mama hides in the shower to let the anxiety, stress and cares – ’cause we’ve all got em’ – melt away with hot water as we let it massage our shoulders “just a little bit longer”… we nurse those dreams. Because it all really is a beautiful constant journey, we push, we strive and then we let go and watch in lovely celebration.
So dream. Dream big.
Sorry guys, it looks like the thumbnail linky might not be working properly. If you can’t get it to work for you, leave your post in this basic linky form or in the comments section so we can come visit you!