And then suddenly, there was my alarm beeping and, very uncharacteristically, there was me fumbling for the snooze button so I could go back, just for a moment, and try to make sense of it all.
But that never works.
The fog between conscious and unconscious was too thick and divisive and the hands I wanted to hold and the faces I wanted to gaze upon once more were hidden behind a veil.
So, I'm left to the task of conjuring up meaning out of my predawn reverie. And it is futile.
I remember the dreams that I had when I was pregnant with my first born. Outrageous and fantastical were they. As I plodded through my pregnancy in my hazy nighttime brain, I slowly revisited all of my old boyfriends. It was as if I was on a mission to right all wrongs and close all doors and move forward with new resolve, prepped and ready for motherhood. It was weird and comforting and empowering all at once.
I haven't dreamed like that before or since.
Instead, I wake with disparate ideas that are impossible to interpret.
Perhaps it is not much different for me on this side of sleep...this interpreting of dreams.
I've never been much of a real world dreamer. Although I am imaginative and poetical in the realm of the sun, I'm not one for casting visions on the future. I don't paint big pictures. I kind of just...am.
That is why I am going to
Jumping Tandem: The Retreat in April, otherwise known as "your big, amazing, ridiculous dream."
Ridiculous is right. As in, I don't have one. A dream, that is.
Clicking the button to reserve my spot at the retreat was one of the stupidest bravest things that I have ever done. How audacious of me. Who am I to think that I can waltz into that beautiful retreat center that promises me amazing speakers, gorgeous accommodations, delicious food and CHOCOLATE and have a legitimate reason for being there?
Big. Amazing. Ridiculous.
But I'm going anyway.
I'm going to be with amazing, ridiculous women in the hopes that all their goodness and grace and grit will rub off on me.
I want a dream for the here and now that doesn't leave me grasping at mirages or old haunts.
I want a dream that will move mountains.
I want a dream that might just change the world.
So I'm wiping the sand from my eyes and rinsing out the bad taste in my mouth and I'm turning my face to the scarlet orange sun hanging low in the sky.
Join me?
“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”
-Edgar Allan Poe
Photo credit: ~Brenda-Star~
