Dream Buyer

I met a man last night who told me he could buy my dreams.  How strange, I thought, but I went with it.  We drank wine and ate dessert outside in the cold, my semi-adopted dog getting into fights in the distance, making sure that no other dog or drunk man would come anywhere near me.    My dream, to live on a boat in the Caribbean, became very exciting when he told me he would get the crew, the boat, and the land for me to accomplish my goal; starting a women’s empowerment organization.  I never thought the two, my dream and my goal, could merge.  Dreams are for dreaming and goals are for doing.  We were supposed to eat dinner tonight to talk logistics, but we didn’t.  He tells me he will see me again, sometime and someplace in the world.  I have never met so many mysterious people than I have here.  So many people who are convinced that we will meet again, sometime, in some other place in this endless world.  

Fireworks

I put on a new album I received from my mother, that of an old family friend, listened to the song “Going Going Gone”, heard that thrumming, frontierfull and borderless voice emote like a rocking chair and surprised myself by bursting into tears.  That voice I have known for 26 years came out of my computer and sang a song I thought for a moment was written about that very space I found myself in.  That voice brought crumbling down mountains of sobbing recollections, resurfacing that childhood I thought was long gone, long forgotten in that veil of sadness I had shrouded it in.  That shimmer of pure feeling, of pure positivity about those years, when for epochs and centuries of tears behind dark eyelids I had stowed away -“feeling” for later - those towers came down.  I remember feeling happy; on warm houseboats in my bathing suit, learning how to drive and singing songs that I knew were sad but that I would understand, again, later.  I remember feeling happy.  I have not held that sentiment in my heart or in my hands for years, but there it was, inspired by that voice and I don’t know why, but now I can say to myself when I am in those dark moments, in that ghost town, when even though I am happy now (I know this is a new feeling) I can look back and know that there were times, lots and lots of times, when I was happy then as well.  That it wasn’t a black hole, that it wasn’t always difficult.  

I now find myself in what I would consider the fireworks show of that period of thinking, that part where it all melts together and beauty emerges, finally, unhindered by everything before it, leaving a small trace of grey smoke to let me know it’s still not perfect, but explosions of color are happening all around, all within and without.  I am doing really well here, I am ecstatic, I am sad, I am reminiscent in sunny glow, I am laughing at those seasons in the sun, I am resplendent with memories and plans, I am, like I am right now, crying with a glass of wine and avocado on toast because some things can never change.  This is a fantastic stage I am on.