Tag Archives: dreams

different kinds of dreams.

It seems I’ve switched to a morning format for my weekend  posts and this morning the girls ARE in the bed probably against their better judgement as I’ve been waking in the night suffering the worst of this cold.

I think last night’s dreams were worth mentioning here because they were the kinds of dreams that you want to wake up and remember, not let roll off quickly before you can grasp them.

Last night I had dreams of swimming.  Which is a bit odd for me because I’m not a big swimmer.  But I was standing on the edge of a beach about to enter a competition.  Apparently it was one of three competitions (of which I dreamed of two) and there were only about ten people competing.  Though I guess it’s kind of pointless to say competing because as I spoke with my fellow competitors on the beach, we were all just hoping to finish and in addition felt a deep affection for one another for doing this together).  So there I was on a beautiful stretch of land getting ready to swim my heart out (and thinking why am I doing this, I don’t swim) and I was excited, bursting actually with excitement.  When the race started it seemed it was an odd sort of race that involved diving, then swimming in shallow waters and then climbing up and over rocks and then swimming again to get to the other side and back.  I have never seen this, but ok, it’s a dream.  The second leg of the race was on a different beach and this time it was evening.  I was standing in a hotel room and there were giant rock formations that the setting sun was throwing in silhouette along the beach (thinking now they reminded me of the rocks at Bay of Fundy, a must see if I do say so, if you’re ever in Atlantic Canada)

 image ohmycanada

I decided I needed to go photograph them while the light was just right so I headed out to walk down the beach with my camera.  As I walked down the beach trying to find a good shot there was suddenly someone beside me and I turned to them and pointed across to the left where there was a string of bright neon signs and fast food joints and said “see this, this is what is ruining things” and then I pointed across back to my Fundy rocks and the setting sun and the ocean and said “and this is what we are trying to save”.  And that is where I woke up.

In the way all dreams are this one didn’t make much sense.  The fact I went straight to my grandparents home from the first race or that there were a string of fast food joints across from my Fundy beach.  What was amazing about this dream was that all of the most important aspects of my life were all contained in this dream and in this dream itself I was so uniquely happy.

I was doing something I loved which was pushing myself and my body to become stronger and healthier.  I was on a beach next to an amazing ocean in both parts of the dream.  I had both Ed and my family there with me surrounding me in both parts and I was imparting to someone younger than myself the importance of staying away from that which is fake and unnatural for what is already whole and complete.

It may not mean much here looking at it on the screen, but it made an impact on me this morning.  I awoke with a smile and a feeling like if nothing else this dream was telling me I am on the right path.

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still waiting.

why does it seem that spring is so reluctant to make  her entrance this year?

easter is late and just two weeks away.  most of the earth here is still brown, the days still damp and chilly.

i long for warmth and color.

spring seems perched on the edge, just peeking around the corner, making me wait.

i myself perched and ready.

ready to jump, but not quite there.

there are climbing lessons, i haven’t dared to officially sign up for, scared my time won’t come through.

there are photos, to be reproduced, ideas floating in my head to be sold.

there is a book in progress, waiting for me to sit down and add another 3,o00 words to what is there.

there is a man, right now in Tennessee, who feels like family, but who is just out of my reach.

sometimes the waiting is the hardest part, when you feel greatness around the corner.

in time.  time is a teacher.

telling me, this is a path, but one with a direction.

giving me just a taste to hold on to, and keeps me thinking forward.

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grow, be independant.

{found in the back of the car this morning}

what i have always wanted from day one for my girls was that they would grow up confident and secure in themselves.  i just believe that if i can give them the gift of  these two things they have a much better start and a less rocky path on their journeys.  as we ease into this middle section of their childhood i think hanging on to this wish is more important than ever.

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i want them to know who they are, but i want them to always accept their changing natures.

i want them to not need anyone to tell them they are beautiful to feel so.

 i want them to reach for dreams and be the person THEY want to be.

 i want them to know they can get there if they work and they stretch and believe.

i want them to not need a boy to be happy, but i want them to find one that makes them feel over the moon.

 i want them to have friends that make them smile and laugh, who are just enough like them to love and just different enough to inspire.

  i want them  to think and question what they are told and then decide for themselves.

 i want them to know that every person you meet in this life has a lesson waiting for you.

  i want them to feel angry and powerless about something and then use their voices to do something.

  i want them to find a spiritual practice they can believe in.

 i want them to take criticism, think about it, and then decide it’s worth.

 i want them to know it is okay to fail, get up, and try again. 

i want them to live, breathe, fail, succeed, think, dream, believe and

grow, always grow.

 

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Onward and Upward.

I need to decide what to write.  I keep writing dribs and drabs here and there.  On the laptop.  On this computer, in a half a dozen random notebooks.  I have a memo I wrote on my cell phone in the morning when there was no paper handy. I send an email with writing in it every day Monday-Friday to my writing buddy.  I’ve always written best in short bursts.  Phrases, poems, little bits, but I want to collect them up, make some sense of them

I have pointed next year, 2011, as my year to focus on my writing and photography.

So far my unplanned, five-year plan could be summed up this way:

2007:  Cry, cry again, cry some more.  Feel sad and helpless, then go cry again.

2008:  Get the hell out of the marriage.

2009:  Recover from the divorce.  Get healthy and whole mentally.

2010:  Discover who I am.  Clean out house.  Lose 30 pounds.

So that’s it.  2011 will be the year of putting into action the things I identified this year that I feel driven and passionate about.

 

But I need organization.  I NEED organization, otherwise, I’ll continue to float around here all willy-nilly.  I would love to profess to be organized and I try.  I have calendars and lists, and spots for things, but really, when it comes down to it  “willy-nilly” may as well be my  middle name.  Because instead of doing those things on the calendar and the lists, I’m sitting here doing this AND it’s 8:26 p.m. AND I haven’t eaten AND I will end up staying up WAY TOO LATE again.

So….to organize.  My life seems to be on a pretty good trajectory right now.  There are still a few unknowns.  Oh hell, there’s a lot of big unknowns, so I need a guide, a map of sorts.   I did a VERY GOOD JOB (insert gold star here) of identifying what I wanted in my life this year, and surprisingly a lot of things have fallen into place.  Now I need to walk further down the path.

I think more than anything this year what I learned most was about loving myself, being grateful for what I have and not being afraid to reach for what I want.

I think next year.  I’m just going to stay focused on documenting it.

 

 

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180° South

There are those movies that change your life.  That after viewing you see things completely differently.   This is one of those documentaries.  My mother recommended this movie to me.  She said everyone should see this movie.  I didn’t realize until I was into it and saw Chris Malloy that  it was a Malloys film.  As in the same Malloys that film with Jack Johnson, that the soundtrack that is now downloaded and playing is from Brushfire Records.  As if all the surfing didn’t give it away point blank.

Regardless, here is what this film gave me.

A belief in living your dreams.  A belief in doing.  A belief in saying YES to life.  A belief that people can do good.  A belief in how beautiful this world is.  A belief in putting less stock in things and more in experiences.  A belief that one experience can change your life and what you choose to do with it as it did for the original crew in 1968.

I don’t want to climb mountains…too afraid of heights.  I want to learn to surf though those waves seem just a little bit scary.

But I want to stop thinking myself out of the things I want to do.  One life.  One chance.  What if we just said yes.

We have one life.  We have one planet.  What we choose to do with both of those things is our choice.

I cannot make a big enough recommendation.  I was blown away.  So many wise and wonderful things were said, so much beauty.

More info is here.

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moving on.

they tell you it happens.  that at some point you will hit that wall.  that you will reach that point where suddenly and awkwardly you freeze, afraid of change.  i’ve hit the wall. last night i didn’t just hit the wall, i ran headfirst into it and knocked myself out on the ground still for awhile.  in fact i was so frozen in fear of where i was heading that i didn’t do much of anything.  then i did what i do best in moments like those.  i put movies on for the girls and sat down and wrote.  and wrote.  and wrote. wrote until 12:30 in the morning.  some of it made sense, some of it did not.  some of it moved me to tears, some of it was exposition which will probably get canned later.

it so happens that in the process of self-exploration and willingness to get to the next level there is a spot you have to get through, called doubt, self-loathing and reluctance to change.

everything about me right now falls into those categories.

i’m working out harder than ever getting myself healthy, but my muscles are screaming at me.  at the same time i feel them and i know they are there and i feel strong.  but somehow those last littly squishy bits which of course i may have to accept are going to be with me forever seem to nag at me and always get the last word.   so my body and mind it seems are struggling a bit with keeping up and we aren’t even going to talk about the casserole of macaroni and cheese I made last night and ate. by myself. stuck.

i’m shooting photos, i’m editing, i’m writing, i’m doing all these things that are supposed to lead me to where i want to be, but i am having a harder time breaking through to the other side of doing something with this creative energy.  it seems every time i want to put something out there, the doubt of the worthwhileness of it sneaks in and i fall into the blasted pattern of the fear of failure.  and at the same time i fear i’ve taken on too much at once and though i love having a second blog, it almost feels like too much work most days.  but again i don’t want to be that person that starts and then gives up, quits, never goes anywhere with anything.

a closed off section of stairs at the gardens, unused

so i made the decision last night to harness all this lovely negative energy.  i wrote about my past.  it is something i have never been able to do up until this point.  i’ve written around it.  i’ve written fuming entries about my ex-husband, i’ve written about the desperation of being a single mother, but i’ve never written about the fear, the depression, and that dark, dark place i went to during the end of that marriage.

and it surprised me.

i got through it.  i cried a bit, but only after i went back and read it again.  and i remembered it so vividly. and to me writing down a small portion of that part of my life, seeing myself the way i was and accepting,  not blaming or hating that person i was gave me a little bit of perspective.  i accepted who i was.  with all my faults and wrong decisions.  with all the dark scary feelings i never spoke a word of to anyone. i told myself it was okay.

and i can do that again.  because i know what holding on to a place and being afraid to grow and reach feels like.  i remember it.  and though right now my circumstances are better and the change i’m seeking now doesn’t have such dire consequences as the one past, it teaches me the same lesson.  to push past the doubt, push past the not feeling good enough, push past the not feeling deserving, and come out the other side.

i am still in a mood this morning.  i hated the dog nosing me to get up.  i hated the girls trying to get me out of bed before i was ready.  i hated coming down to find all the things left undone yesterday. i hated the fact that i wasn’t waking up in a cottage in the woods on the edge of the coast in New England, walking out the door in my bare feet, my nightgown and a sweater wrapped around me, wood under my feet and a cup of tea in my hand.  because that is where i wrote myself to sleep last night.  and maybe that is where i will wake up one day.

for now i decided to write this.  and then at the girl’s suggestion we are going back to the gardens today.  we are going to take the long loop around the meadow, walk under the giants in the wood, climb the treehouses and then maybe rest by the chime tower.  i’m throwing the hair up, slipping on a soft cotton t-shirt and slipping on the worn, comfortable jeans that are at least a size too big.  i’ve always found the best place to grow, the best place to heal, the best place to just BE is in a place such as this and perhaps there under the trees, walking through the meadow, sitting listening to the chimes, i will grow past this fear of moving on and learn to walk gracefully into it.

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the prologue.

there is a huge flock of migratory birds in the trees across the field, across the road.  i hear them.  i want to run out and photograph them, but i haven’t picked up the camera in over a week.

there are a million words bubbling inside of me that need to be written in poem or novel form that haven’t seen the light of day.

there are bright ideas forming, floating, projecting themselves up from within me that i haven’t had the time to care for and nurture.

there has been routine, tasks, chores, homework, trombone lessons, housework, laundry.

there has been much more coffee, much less sleep, much more time on the phone late at night, much more time knee deep in the trenches, less time here at the computer.

there has been an ongoing clearing, of home, body, mind and soul.

so much of this has left me bewildered.

when you say you want to dream, it is very exciting.  but there should be a prologue to the dream called: putting your affairs in order.

the birds are flying over me now as i sit here and type.  i have paused to look out the window at them.  they are on task, right where they should be right now.  i know in my heart i am too, but still sometimes i wish to fly, fly, far away.  find a place to rest out the winter.

sometimes finding that place requires a lot of hard flying along the way.

i don’t think i like the prologue so much. and i am sure the story itself will be long and great.  but i think the ending will be the best, the day that i will be resting among so many of those dreams and i can call the epilogue: she lived happily ever after.

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