A meaningful dream

Last night I dreamed I was in a city (New York? Chicago? Boston?) trying to hail a taxi. It was raining, and none of the taxis were stopping, so I turned around and started walking down the street toward someplace that was dry. As I was walking, a woman roughly my age put her umbrella over my head and asked me if I knew any good restaurants. Behind her were her friends; one was smiling and laughing and telling stories, the other seemed very shy.

I led them past a super fancy Japanese restaurant. "I heard it's really nice, but it's also really expensive so I won't recommend it to you," I said. The girl with the umbrella laughed and said, "Now here's a girl who knows my style!"

I finally led them to a relatively nice, relatively inexpensive restaurant and was invited to join them. I sat between the umbrella girl and the shy girl. The shy girl didn't order any food.

"Don't worry," said the umbrella girl to the shy girl, "we'll find some place to get some chocolate after this." The shy girl smiled sweetly. I suddenly remembered something. "I know a nice chocolate cafe around here," I said. The part of me that knew I was dreaming wondered if I was in the right city, or if the chocolate cafe was just a memory of some other city I'd lived in.

I'm not sure why this rainy, random girls night out with strangers struck me so much, but it did. Previously, my dream was filled with people from every different era of my life (who seemed to all know each other, and we all lived in this imaginary city that seemed to be a composite of every city I've ever stepped foot in.) Everything had been familiar, everyone was someone I knew, and I was very happy to be in the company of all of these people... and then I was alone and the three girl strangers showed up and I seemed to accept it as part of my life.

"Do you know what the meaning of life is?" The shy girl asked after a while. The umbrella girl laughed and said, "Don't mind her, she's in a phase where she has to figure everything out." But I smiled and told the umbrella girl it was fine, and I turned back to the shy one. "I have no idea, but here's how I see it: every day should be enjoyable. If you don't have anything to do that day, go out and do something awesome. Spend time with people whose company you enjoy, and forge meaningful connections with as many people as you can." The laughing girl let out a beautiful laugh, the umbrella girl grinned at me, and the shy girl gave me a shy smile.

And then I woke up.

Home

I'm a leaf on the wind; no trees in sight, no roots to keep me grounded. Last night I sat staring at all my most useful and most prized belongings, packed neatly into a handful of bags. I thought about everything else I own, squirreled away in a ten by ten tin box with a lock on the door. I wondered what life would be like without it all. But I already know because I'm already living it.

This morning I moved my bags to a different location. As I set them down I took in the sight of the place that I knew would never be my home. It was not an unfamiliar feeling. It was not a pleasant feeling. But I was determined not to feel sad.

I was overcome, though. As the day wore on I was consumed by my yearning for some place warm and familiar. Some place filled with memories and photographs and life.

I miss the ocean. I miss taking pictures. I miss every best friend I've ever had.

I miss waking up and not having to wonder where I'll end up next.

The Plunge

It's funny how life works out. We go through waves of good and bad, easy and difficult, simple and complicated. It's never black, it's never white, just gray and gray and gray. But sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's red and blue and green. Sometimes it's magenta and silver and periwinkle. Sometimes it's rainbows and prisms and patterns and everything all at once-- and sometimes it feels like nothing.

Remember when you were a kid and you discovered something exciting that you wanted to show all your friends? "Hey, watch this," you'd say. Maybe it was that you learned how to do a cartwheel, or ride your bike without holding onto the handlebars. Maybe you rounded up enough courage to poke an angry dog with a stick while it was sleeping, or pull on your big sister's pigtail when she wasn't looking. It was always that mix of pride, doubt, and pure, sweet adrenaline. And then that huge sense of wonder when you finally took the plunge-- that was the best part. Did I really just do that? That's how I feel now.

Watch this. 

I close my eyes and when I open them I'm suddenly a businesswoman. I'm learning about accounting and income tax. About marketing and vendor's licenses and limited liability companies. I'm reading contracts and writing emails and calculating expenses.

Watch this. 

One moment I am artless and without inspiration; the next I have a camera in my hand and a vision in my head. I'm remembering all I've forgotten and learning all I never knew.

Watch this. I'm stumbling in the dark, groping for the nearest way out. I panic, I flee, I carve out a path of destruction... and with the flick of a switch I am able to see again.

Watch this. Blink, blink, and blink again. I'm a writer, I'm an artist, I'm an organizer. I'm all three at once, and all three separately. Blink again, and I'm so much more. I'm a screenwriter, I'm a photographer, I'm a filmmaker, I'm a treasurer, I'm a stage manager, I'm a marketing coordinator, I'm a designer. I build websites, I create logos, I play an instrument, I paint pictures.

Watch this. Watch as I grow. Watch as I succeed. Watch as I become everything I was meant to be and more. Watch as I do things I never thought I'd do.

Watch as I become something great.