On Dreams and Lazy Days

Do you have a place you can go to where your memories come rushing back at you? I have a couple. One of them is this park--and in particular, a tree--that I used to visit often with a friend of mine. I had not been to this place since September of 2009, when I left for England.

I went back yesterday. When I was walking through the park on the way to this tree I felt like I was floating in a dream. Things looked different than I remembered them and I felt different. I climbed into the tree and sat there for about an hour in complete solitude. I began to remember how I felt 3 years ago in this same spot and it was a nice feeling to have. But being in the tree again so many years later also made me see how much I have changed.

I went through a dark time a while ago. I think the friend I used to visit the tree with knows this. But I don't think they know how deep the sorrow was running in me. I don't think anybody knows. I am sure there will be more dark days ahead but I am also sure that God will not give me more than I can tolerate. I have changed, but I feel like I have gotten my smile and my laugh and my sillies back.

Dreams are mischievous creatures. They run away from you and when you try to catch them your efforts are as futile as attempting to grasp the wind inside of your hand. Though you may never fully remember the intricate details and textures of the dream, you will always remember its intoxicating beauty. Though you may never grasp the wind, you will always remember how it feels when it brushes through your hair and tickles your skin.

I feel like I have spent today in a dream, too. I have been looking forward to today for a long time, because I have been craving some time to myself and today was that day. I went to bed early last night and slept for 12 hours. I have had a deliciously lazy day of rest and relaxation and mint chocolate chip ice cream and one of my favourite old movies. It has been SO nice.

On that note, here is another thought that I find quite nice. It's a quote from Shakespeare's "The Tempest" about dreams. I hope you find something to like about it, too.

"Like the baseless fabric of this vision
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."