Sometimes my dreams are not dreams at all. Sometimes they are memories. Other times they are songs. This one came to me today of an old song from long ago. Since it just will not let me go, I thought I would give it to you in a post. I interpret it as an omen since it originally came to me in a time of major shifts and upheaval in my life. I suspect it portends the same now.
A few nights ago, I had a dream. And in this dream, I woke up… only I was still asleep (Bear with me!) I was running through the ever-expanding garden of a house I once lived. The trees swayed silently in the cool summer breeze. The grass a vivid green, albeit a little overgrown. My heart pounded in my chest like the drum roll of anticipation, racing through my veins. As I continued to sprint through leafy shafts of green, I repeated over “Do not wake up! Do not wake up!” For there, in front of my eyes, was a man I recognised – only so well – yanking up weeds with an old trowel. “Dad!” I called out, waving my arms to catch his attention. He looked up from the small mound of earth and mopped his bead-speckled brow. For a second, we just gazed at each other, awestruck and vacant of words. But then we ran into each other’s arms and allowed 7 lost years to fill the void in our heart. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the daughter I should have been!” I wept, feeling his large comforting hand cup my head to his shoulder. “Amanda,” He whispered, “I am proud of you!” I gulped back the lump that had clawed its way up into my throat. “I don’t judge you, never have!” he said, “If you’re happy, then I’m happy too!” Fron: 2017, I’m ready for you!
Rarely do I post one of my own dreams any more. Though they can be vivid, they are often forgotten before I can write them down. This one survived.
I was visiting a shopping mall that, “in real life,” became defunct years ago. Somehow, some of the stores had survived or maybe had been resurrected or re-opened. In particular, a Morgan and Lindsey store I visited years ago was in business again. (M&L was a “five and dime,” a precursor to the modern “dollar stores.”)
The store resembled an upscale bookstore I also visited many years ago (apparently now also out of business, shuttered by competition from larger stores such as Barnes & Nobles as well as Amazon), and mostly dealt in rare vinyl records and sometimes CDs or tapes. In particular, they had a rare EP by Renaissance (lead singer Annie Haslam) with Carpet of the Sun on one side and Ocean Gypsy on the other. I woke up, saddened by the loss of these many old stores and places and one of my favorite bands. However, in researching the links for this entry, I did discover that Renaissance is back together again. Maybe time to buy a copy of their latest project?
Let’s be clear: it is a dream about loss and growing old. I suspect, too, that it is a dream about death, particularly of places and things around me as well as people and, eventually, my own. Maybe it is suitable for a dream between the Winter Solstice and the Capricorn New Moon.
You’re embarking on a yearlong round-the-world adventure, and can take only one small object with you to remind you of home. What do you bring along for the trip?
But I’ll have to unpack the heart behind it first, and I wish to start with a confession:
I had lost the ability to dream.
This struck me one evening over pizza with my music ministry team/batch mates, last August 14. James (17 years old) asked me: “Ate, ano ang pangarap mo?” (“Big sis, what is your dream?”) I somewhat felt that it should’ve been an easy question to answer; like, surely, I am living out my dream, right?
… but what dream are we talking about? Or dreams, for that matter?
Honestly, with the way life can be sometimes (especially life as a college student) it’s difficult to remain in that place of inspiration and passion.
I absolutely love blogging, vlogging, beauty, fashion, music and encouraging other people but when I look at the success of other YouTubers, other bloggers, and even people around me..
I feel like I’m falling behind.
Everything in life doesn’t necessarily come easily and more often than not your dreams require time. My dreams require time. And effort. And work. There are definitely moments where I think to myself, “What’s the point? Why do I even bother? It’s not like I’m going to get anywhere anyway.” It seems so easy and effortless for other YouTubers and bloggers to do what they do and edit and have topics to talk about. They’ve got the time, they’ve got the resources, they’ve got…
In the blanket of darkness
When all I see is this crazy mess
When my feet wobble at my weight
And my spine can’t hold me straight
When the stench of this pigsty
Swamps my pillow with self-pity
I think of the dreamer I used to be
The one who thought the world wasn’t complete without me
The one who conversed with destiny and sealed his own fate
The one whose feet walked on hot coal,
But still had eyes fixed on gold
The one who shredded impossibilities
And used the shreds to weave possibilities
The one now dead
Last night, I had a dream. It was one of those weird and worrying dreams. I had dreamt that I was a teacher at a boarding school. It was registration time and I was in my classroom, suddenly I felt the need to go upstairs. The room above my classroom was a bathroom, in it was a very large bath. The bath was full to the brim with scalding hot water and the water level was continuing to rise. I did not know what to do so I somehow managed to take the plug out of the bath to let all the water out. When I returned to my classroom I found that the water was so hot that it had melted the pipes and was running behind all the walls melting the walls as it did so. I was panicked and worried and upset and I kept the act…
A Dream Board is used for enacting The Law of Attraction to promote the manifestation of all your hopes and wishes. Who doesn’t want all their dreams to come true, right?! After doing research on the topic of Dream Boards and reading the success stories, I came to the conclusion that the only way to fully realize the hype behind creating a Dream Board was to create one of my own. So that is exactly what I did!
Armed with my crafting scissors, colored Sharpies, a glue stick, and about ten different magazines, I began cutting, coloring, gluing and collaging. About four hours later, my hands sticky with glue residue and covered with Sharpie marks, I had finally finished my masterpiece. In front of me lay all my dreams, pasted onto a piece of cardboard I cheaply stole from the backing of an IKEA photograph.