Is life free falling? Is it an escapade made to be explored? Is it an activity center, you try a little, seeing where you might succeed or fail? Or is it a never ending climb to the top? I don't even know anymore...
That wasn't exactly how I meant to begin, I'm just, I haven't used my sea legs in awhile.
I want to write, desperately. I lose myself in my writing. Time stops, I am separate from my being and yet, I am wholly completely myself. I want to be this way. To start over, to dream big, to let God take me where ever He wishes without the fear of failure. Like the song, Oceans. Spirit lead me where my feet would never wander and my faith would be made stronger... Lord I will call upon your name... I don't want to be devoid of these hopes, of this faith, of that dream. That I would one day end up exactly where He was calling and I would not have missed a thing. "Living the dream," they say. Boy, how differently do our dreams look, I would say.
Not one of grandeur or pomp. No. It would be simple. A cottage (think Matilda's teacher's), children, plants, cookies, coffee(!), ... yes please, that would be it. Living the dream. Where none of the b.s. found it's way into our lives. I mean, how many times are you pissed of in your dreams? Not often. Mostly, I'm bewildered. Emotions can get the best of us, can't they?
Anyways, back to the dream. I'd be writing. I'd be writing and say, "Does this sound good?" Or maybe I should change a line here or there. But then, we always come back to reality, don't we? Because if we lived off in the county or in a village, where would my husband work? I guess we'd figure it out...He'd probably work at home with me, creating some little hobby that we could sell and live on, too! That would really be something, wouldn't it? I guess we'll still have to see!
