Usually my dreams are made of the mundane which my brain twists and turns until it has something a little more interesting. If the remnants of the dreams stay with me once I awaken I can usually unravel the threads to find out what made my dream.
This morning I awoke after a very vivid dream of a little girl that didn't want to look like a Jew. I never said any of my dreams were politically correct. They are what they are. Surrounded by a world being torn apart with areas of relative tranquility the child cut off her hair so she wouldn't look so Jewish. Now I have to tell you here that one of the quirks of my dreaming mind is people do not have faces. I don't know why this is. My dreams are very detailed in many ways, but people remain faceless. Anyway, she cut off her hair and in it's place grew mums (the kind that sort of look like a daisy, white petals and yellow centers but they were mums, it's all in the details). Her father found her and told her it didn't matter the way she looked she was who she was. She cried. End of dream. I will also note here that my dreams tend to have resolutions but I suppose there is none for this one.
Why this dream? Why now? I suppose (this is the thread pulling part) it is because I am not nor have ever really been satisfied with me. I thought my life would be 'more', not that it is less but I suppose at one point I thought I would be a renown artist, but lacking a true talent and passion that 'dream' faded a long time ago. I have talent but I don't have drive. And truth be told you have to have both, probably with drive being the bigger portion to achieve greatness in any realm that you go into.
Another thread to be pulled is my upcoming birthday, sixty. Sixty means I might be here on this earthly plain another 20 or 30 years if I am lucky. It doesn't seem like much and I feel like I haven't done much. What will I leave behind? What will end up in some second hand shop in the future? It makes me wonder. Maybe that is the world (my world) being torn apart.
It all comes back to looking at people around me and realizing I am no longer young. I don't have an unlimited horizon in front of me. It is finite, it really does have an end. It is depressing.
We all die. Everything dies and we humans are afraid of that. We use euphemisms for dead. We 'lose' someone, or someone has 'passed', 'gone to the other side'. Damn, is there another side? Cause if there was wouldn't of Houdini come back to tell his wife? Wouldn't people who have died come back one more time to comfort their love ones? To say 'it's good, I am safe now'.
I don't believe in ghosts (other than the ones our mind creates), I don't believe in heaven (you will see those you have loved), or hell (lets not go there), angels, trolls, the Lock Ness Monster, I think you get my drift. I do believe that there is something within us which makes us great, ordinary, bad, it is what makes us, us, that goes on after we are dead. The rain that has fallen on our heads has been around the world and back. The air we breath has gone down through the centuries. Our world is full of stardust and wonder. We are no different. From generation to generation, we live, we create, we love, we kill, we die. It never really changes.
We are really all the same. We have these amazing bodies which take us through our lives. Vessels of all shapes, colors and conditions floating on a sea, on a planet, orbiting a sun in a small corner of a very large universe.
I forget sometimes when I wallow in this pit of despair that I (and my husband) have created something amazing and wonderful, our sons. Even after I am gone, they will be there, breathing in the air that I breathed, watching the sun come up that I watched, looking at the moon, staring at the stars and running through the rain. Now there is a legacy.
This morning I awoke after a very vivid dream of a little girl that didn't want to look like a Jew. I never said any of my dreams were politically correct. They are what they are. Surrounded by a world being torn apart with areas of relative tranquility the child cut off her hair so she wouldn't look so Jewish. Now I have to tell you here that one of the quirks of my dreaming mind is people do not have faces. I don't know why this is. My dreams are very detailed in many ways, but people remain faceless. Anyway, she cut off her hair and in it's place grew mums (the kind that sort of look like a daisy, white petals and yellow centers but they were mums, it's all in the details). Her father found her and told her it didn't matter the way she looked she was who she was. She cried. End of dream. I will also note here that my dreams tend to have resolutions but I suppose there is none for this one.
Why this dream? Why now? I suppose (this is the thread pulling part) it is because I am not nor have ever really been satisfied with me. I thought my life would be 'more', not that it is less but I suppose at one point I thought I would be a renown artist, but lacking a true talent and passion that 'dream' faded a long time ago. I have talent but I don't have drive. And truth be told you have to have both, probably with drive being the bigger portion to achieve greatness in any realm that you go into.
Another thread to be pulled is my upcoming birthday, sixty. Sixty means I might be here on this earthly plain another 20 or 30 years if I am lucky. It doesn't seem like much and I feel like I haven't done much. What will I leave behind? What will end up in some second hand shop in the future? It makes me wonder. Maybe that is the world (my world) being torn apart.
It all comes back to looking at people around me and realizing I am no longer young. I don't have an unlimited horizon in front of me. It is finite, it really does have an end. It is depressing.
We all die. Everything dies and we humans are afraid of that. We use euphemisms for dead. We 'lose' someone, or someone has 'passed', 'gone to the other side'. Damn, is there another side? Cause if there was wouldn't of Houdini come back to tell his wife? Wouldn't people who have died come back one more time to comfort their love ones? To say 'it's good, I am safe now'.
I don't believe in ghosts (other than the ones our mind creates), I don't believe in heaven (you will see those you have loved), or hell (lets not go there), angels, trolls, the Lock Ness Monster, I think you get my drift. I do believe that there is something within us which makes us great, ordinary, bad, it is what makes us, us, that goes on after we are dead. The rain that has fallen on our heads has been around the world and back. The air we breath has gone down through the centuries. Our world is full of stardust and wonder. We are no different. From generation to generation, we live, we create, we love, we kill, we die. It never really changes.
We are really all the same. We have these amazing bodies which take us through our lives. Vessels of all shapes, colors and conditions floating on a sea, on a planet, orbiting a sun in a small corner of a very large universe.
I forget sometimes when I wallow in this pit of despair that I (and my husband) have created something amazing and wonderful, our sons. Even after I am gone, they will be there, breathing in the air that I breathed, watching the sun come up that I watched, looking at the moon, staring at the stars and running through the rain. Now there is a legacy.
