Dreams are a fickle animal. Not the dreams we have while sleeping, although the two can definitely be related, but the dreams we have for our future, or that of a spouse or child. Dreams are the building blocks of the road that goes up; they’re the yellow bricks that lead to a sunset over a flower filled hill. Dreams sustain hope, and draw our lips to smile when the circumstances that surround us would dictate otherwise. A house, a new car, a college diploma, a promotion; these are common dreams, but so are peace, serenity, contentment, belonging, acceptance, and love. The fulfillment of some dreams then can be seen and touched, being made of wood, stone and steel. Other dreams are as ghosts, invisible to the eye, but real to the heart and mind. Hard as a rock or light as air, dreams are a powerful creator of emotions, turning light into darkness, and back again as quickly as a thought. The importance of having and holding a dream in the context of a full life cannot be overvalued, so then dreams must be carefully constructed and stored in a fortified space, protected from the harsh elements of today.
Kaizer, our 100 pound lap-dog, can suck the negativity and anger right out of anyone, his enthusiasm for life fills a room when he enters it; as does his enormous head, long and lean body, and huge feet. His tail can be compared to nuclear energy; it is meant for good, but when it’s near a coffee table where any breakables are on display – the incredible force of his nonstop, speed-of-light tail can only leave destruction and heartache behind. He is one of two dogs whose home we share (note the implied ownership – they hold the mortgage and have never made a payment), and without them our home seems empty and too quiet. Kaizer is a good dog (and Harley – so are you).
A longtime friend left for Heaven a few weeks back. He had lived a long and fruitful life, positively influencing the lives of many and rarely asking anything in return. He gave much – much more than he got, but that is how he wanted it. He is missed because we cannot see him anymore, but his touch on our hearts and minds; the memories of laughter, of intelligent discussion and political debate are now integral to our DNA. A part of us left when he did, because we are a mixture of ourselves and the people we love and who love us. The essence of my life is the sum of what God does, what I do, and what I absorb from friends and family. So, some of me left when he did, but much more of him stayed behind. Like I said, he gave more that he got.
Sometimes, being swept off your feet is not at all that romantic. Consider walking into the ocean. The warm grains of sand wrap around your feet and toes, giving way just enough as you walk to build a small hole that tries to hold on with every step. The sand nearer the ocean is damp and cool from the remnants of waves that retreated only minutes past. Gathering your courage you press onward until that first taste of ocean water touches your toe. It is cold, and you stop walking – jerking your foot backwards, but only for a moment. Before you realize it, the waves are slapping against your knees and an occasional drop hits your chest.