Dreams

Well I've had dreams enough for one
And I've got love enough for three
I have my hopes to comfort me
I got my new horizons out to sea

But I'm never going to lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
Cos I know I'm going to find my own peace of mind
Someday...

Where is this place that we have found
Nobody knows where we are bound
I long to hear, I need to see
Cos I've shed tears too many for me

But I'm never going to lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
Cos I know I'm going to find my own peace of mind
Someday...

On the wind soaring free
Spread your wings
I'm beginning to see
Out of mind far from view
Beyond the reach of a nightmare come true

Well I've had dreams enough for one
And I got love enough for three
I have my hopes to comfort me
I got my new horizons out to sea

But I'm never going to lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
Cos I know I'm going to find my own peace of mind
Someday...
Someway...

"New Horizons"

~Moody Blues~

How can life compare to the dreams that haunt me at night? Some mornings, I wake up, and cry. Reality sets in and it's nothing to my dreams. It hurts some days to face the reality of my life.

And that bothers me...

My life is not bad. It's not horrible. I have the love of Family and Friends. I have a home, food on my table, a few "toys", a car, a job. It's more than some people have. And yet...

I don't have my dreams.

In school, I wrote. Poetry, short stories...I was even considered good at it. I was moved into an accelerated english class for two years. I felt a muse, working in my soul. I wanted to create. I tried art class in High School, and no matter how hard I worked, I barely passed. So, I decided, art was not the muse calling me and turned back to the poetry that welled deep in my soul.

I wrote all through High School and the few months of College. I continued to write as I left the life and home I had known for 19 years and moved to Boise. And then somewhere, sometime along the way, the words no longer flowed. My muse abandoned me and my soul felt empty.

I used to carry a notebook and pen with me everywhere, so I could write anytime the muse called. And then, somewhere, sometime, the notebook and pen became a burden that was never used and so, left behind at home.

And then I stopped writing all together.

When I started gaming and running games for my friends, I wrote stories. Stories that captivated my friends and brought them back to my game table time and time again. Suddenly, my muse returned, words flowed from the depths of my soul, and I told stories.

Then, they too disappeared.

I struggle to this day to write and prepare for my biweekly D&D game. The story I started with, slithered from my grasp.

I miss the poetry. The grace and flow of the words from my soul to the paper, written by hand, painstakingly copied again and again, until the whole piece felt complete and right.

"I have dreams enough for one"

Where did all my dreams go? I used to dream of being a Forest Ranger, living in the mountains I love.

I used to dream of owning a bookstore, surrounded by beloved words.

I used to dream of many things...instead I find myself struggling to stay in a positive frame of mind, struggling to pay my bills, struggling to be a good mother for my son, struggling to figure who I am.

So now, instead of holding onto my dreams, I hold onto hope. Hope, that I will find my place in life and maybe find some peace from the dreams at night that make life feel like a nightmare.