I was just daydreaming - something we're told as children is a waste of time. Something I've probably even told my own sons now and then to snap out of.
It was a great dream - I could almost feel the breeze that wafted through our open windows carrying freshness and the smell of ocean salt. The space was one of light and love. It was an impressionistic dream - short and soft. Full of promise, and a reminder of who I am, what matters to me, and what I'm doing here.
It left me ... happy. No, that's not accurate. It left me deeply satisfied. This moment - life as it is now - is what I have that will help me get there. And it's still there - that future life that is in process. I don't have to strive, or to fight against what is. I just have to remember that dream. And remember TO dream.
It's a relief to know that I can still dream. I had thought that I had forgotten how to, but apparently that's not so - phew! What scared me about thinking that I'd forgotten how to dream was knowing that without a dream - without that seed of a future, I'd end up with just a default life. We are not here to survive - we're here to experience and share and grow and learn and laugh.
I find it easy still to slip into a funk. Although life is ticking along, the reserves aren't yet quite where they need to be to fend off occasional bouts of melancholy. Today, however, I learned of one of the tools in my tool belt that I can pull out as needed. And you can bet I won't be telling anyone anytime soon that daydreaming is a waste of time.
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