River Dreams

These past four nights I have dreamed of rivers, of rivers I've never seen. Wild and racing, deep in a canyon, I crossed the first one riding in a ski lift or sky chair sort of contraption. At first I feared falling, but as the scenery unfolded far below, fright gave way to awe. Its beauty was staggering. The second night found me running beside a river. Low banks were sometimes grassy, often earth and stone. Water burbled up little inlets, making pools where I stopped to drink before dashing onward toward something undefined. Oddly enough, the third river flowed into, not out of, a cave. I followed it, wading back, back, back into darkness; no flashlight, but somehow knowing my way. Soon I was in a lighted room filled with brilliant stones. Turquoise, cat's eye, quartz, hematite, coral and opals glowed on either side of the water, seemingly their own source of light. Last night I sat high on a bluff, overlooking a mighty river. It was much like the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Illinois or the Ohio, but yet was none of these. As I sat watching the water, each season came and went in the span of an afternoon. I awoke from the winter cold, clutching for my blanket. I'm not sure that I want to know what it all means. Some things should just stay a mystery.

To touch a dream

Dreams are clouds in my mind. Lovely, untouchable, ever changing, yet always there. Everyone dreams. Some people chase their dreams, some actually catch them, some live them, some die never having tried. I have no illusions; my dreams will always be clouds. But to touch a cloud? Yes, on a mountain I have walked among clouds. Their thickness enveloped me, quieting the path like a heavy snow. Sunlight diffused, the landscape glowed, it was surreal. Surreal as a dream. To touch a dream? Perhaps.

Someplace Else I'd Rather Be

We are prisoners of our own making. Fueled by necessity, social mores, greed and yes, even fear. As a child I was acutely aware that we were only a paycheck or two away from real poverty. This unfortunately instilled in me a need for security, much to my soul's detriment. Reliable housing, health insurance, a steady job with benefits, enough take-home pay to live without carrying credit cards balances, these are all very sensible things. All very admirable accomplishments. Still, there's someplace else I'd rather be. Security leaves very little room to take a chance. It leaves very little room for dreams. Little time for travel. Little time for living.

So I gave away my clothes.

Not all my clothes. My business wardrobe. A small step, but a first step. I finally realized that I don't ever want a job again where I have to wear suits, hose and pumps. Ever. "Business casual" is bad enough. I do not desire a career path. I desire my own path. Too bad I desire health insurance for myself and my spouse as well. Someday I hope to reconcile my conflicting desires. Until then, slog onward.