Posts Tagged dreams
Here Comes The Sun
Posted by Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom in Happiness, Life, Miscellaneous Blabbering, My Son on March 4, 2010
Oh the roads we have traveled. And oh, those we have yet to travel! They stretch out before me in my mind. They’re sometimes long and winding, but more often, lately, so straight and fast that I can see the endpoint like a sudden, bracing hug and it takes my breath away. That place on the horizon where the road blisses out is bursting with warm sun, calling me.
There is so much going on right now, a flurry of to dos and plans and please let this work outs, that I can’t even begin to tell you about it all. I want to tell you. Of course, I will. In just a little while. My thoughts are racing along so far and so fast, ahead of me on that straight-shot road, being drawn to the place where my heart lies in wait. When it all snaps together just right, I’ll calm down, take a deep breath, and let my fingers do the work of spilling the proverbial beans here.
For now, my feet are getting tangled under me as I dart this way and that in nervous anticipation and fervent getting readiness. It’s quite a dervish of a whirlwind that’s whipping me around currently.
Luckily, in the breaks between spinning and racing and running around with far too much to think about and much, too much, to do, Braden and I have private dance parties to the music of The Beatles in our living room. There is generally an abundance of giggling. (You can dance really stupidly when there’s no one but a 3 year old watching, and it doesn’t matter.) Often, there is falling down on the floor silliness to be had, as well. And sharing a moment or two of just being.
Life, contrary to what you may have heard, is good.
Just for a moment.
Posted by Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom in Uncategorized on January 10, 2008
Sometimes you have to give in. Sometimes you have to reach out. Sometimes? You have to do something just because your soul said, “Please, can we do this?”
Yesterday, we drove south for over an hour, on a whim, with a 15 month old in the back seat, just to look at something. Just to touch it for a few minutes. It was a Colonial home that was built circa 1900, on 10 acres. We drove south for over an hour, with baby snacks and juice and diapers and songs like “ABC” and “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” because it’s for sale, and my heart ached to see it in person. Ached to stand on that old front porch.
John humors me like that because he loves me.
I was so at home standing next to the bubbling creek on the property… looking out over the rolling hills into the blue sky… with nothing commercial for miles and miles and miles. Just trees, bare of leaves. For now. But my mind’s eye could see their summer coats of shiny, green leaves, waving in the breeze.
Grass under my feet… I could imagine the stark contrast of the white stars against the black night sky that would happen on that spot in hours time. If I closed my eyes, I could see the garden I would plant on the acreage. I could hear my son playing and splashing in the pond, with a big dog that we’d have.
I wonder if John could hear the creak of the tire swing hanging from the tree in the front yard? Or see me sitting under the shade of the magnolia tree around back, reading a book, as the tree burst with fragrant white blossoms over my head. Maybe he could hear the birds singing, like I could. Maybe he was lost in that moment, too?
I guess sometimes you have to let your heart dream so hard that you let it drag you for miles and miles just to touch something with your own hands, just for a moment, even if it means your dream will fall and break at your feet.
We decided that it’s just too far away from the town we need to be close to.
So we drove all the way home again.
Between the Colonial and our (rented) home we talked about desire and life and money and old age. We touched on needs and hopes and the dreaded Practicality and Responsibility.
We breathed in life, we breathed out patience.
Braden screamed and fussed… he laughed, sang, and talked. He bucked, thrashed and complained, and at one point, he peed all over me.
Then we drove the rest of the way home, and I had cold piss all over the side of my shirt.
But I was happy.
When we got home, Braden ran all over the living room wearing nothing but a shirt and socks, laughing and screaming.
With stars in our eyes, we watched him run to the curtains and twirl himself up in them over and over again, giggling madly as he fell to the floor, then jumping up to do it all over again.
We breathed in life, we breathed out love. And it felt just right.
It was a great day.
Yeah, I know, lists/ugh. I've always been bad at accepting compliments, and this is no different. I was surprised and honored by this - someone thinks I've done a good job. Icky Listness aside, that makes me smile. :-)lotus works
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