Last month I took a picture of a car on fire.
Ben and I were on our way out on our last date in California, and there was an unusual amount of traffic on the Bay Bridge for that hour. There is always traffic in the Bay Area somewhere (I’m looking at you, Livermore), so it didn’t seem too terribly odd. It wasn’t until we started getting slimmed down to two lanes, and got halfway across the bridge when the source of the traffic became abundantly clear:
It didn’t seem as though anyone was hurt or injured, or even concerned. There was a highway patrol car parked behind it, but I didn’t see any fire engines or paramedics on their way (yet, I’m sure).
It was just a car on fire. On the Bay Bridge.
I posted it on Twitter, and an independent news site contacted me and wanted to use it. I honestly am not sure if they did or not, but it was kind of neat to be noticed!
One of their marketing people asked if I would like to be part of their network, and post other pictures…to which I said, Sure! Why not? I can be a homeschooling mom by day, crazy journalist on the side.
The problem is, I don’t really go anywhere.
I navigate between rooms. Orchestrating lessons for the kids, cleaning the kitchen, tidying up, doing some reading, writing here and there, making meals, naps, showers, clothes, etc.
Soo, I haven’t been able to take any pictures of things happening outside of the house, necessarily.
Sooo, I guess that dream of investigative insider rebel journalist is kinda shot.
No, Rebel Journalist….not Rebel Wilson.
But these experiences make you wonder what it is, exactly, that you are dreaming about during the day.
It is clear to me that if journalism was a passion of mine, I could just get in the car at any point and go see the action. But I actually feel a little uncomfortable snooping on people and writing about their lives. It’s a wee invasive. And nosy.
Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.
I am a dreamer by nature.
I think I’ve spent more hours in my life dreaming of things than actually doing anything, truth be told. There are so many places I’d love to see, and people to meet, and cultures to explore. My soul is definitely an explorer, and I love when I get to do a little cultural spelunking.
So, if I am not a journalist and I am not dreaming of journalism, that got me thinking to myself, “Self, of what, exactly, are you dreaming?”
I honestly dream of having more hours in the day. More time to spend at the lake with Ben and the kids. More days in the weekend. Longer mornings putzing around in pajamas. Never ending evenings sipping irish coffees with Ben in front of the fire.
The amount of longing I have for more time honestly takes the top of the list. I am not an overly sentimental woman (Valentine’s Day, I’m looking at you), but I passionately love what I love. I love spending time with my family, and I am rather sad when we have to put the kids down for bed, or leaving the lake or whatever we are doing. I love watching my older kids mature and understand more as they get older…but I am so glad I still have a few little ones who are still crazy in childhood and curl up on my lap.
I definitely dream of time more than anything.
This is a broad stroke, and it isn’t exactly what you think.
I dream about the beauty of a clean room that doesn’t have Risk figures and Cheerios imbedded in the carpet/couch/baseboards. I dream about the beauty of gardens. I dream about the beauty of wild colors in my house to draw the beauty out of life and deliver it into our souls. I think about the beauty of having a fit body (one day). I get distracted with the sun dust floating in front of windows during the afternoon. I may not live in ballrooms adorned with gold archways and stained glass windows, dressed in corsets and silk…maybe I spend a little too much time putting myself into vintage dreams. But the beauty in life is always in the details, and the details will always add up to a larger, more beautiful equation. That is why all the little things matter, and it is important to see the beauty in even the smallest digit.
On a more serious note, I dream of less. Less struggles, less problems, less worries, less concerns, less pointless stuff. Less wandering around aimlessly.
And definitely more. More time, more opportunities, more compassion, more deliberate actions. More thought put into what I’m doing; what I’m saying.
Earlier today I put on a bra (this is a thing) and got on the treadmill and did some running.
I have been gaining weight this season, and it is getting pretty bad. It isn’t so much what I am eating, although that obviously has a big impact, but it is that I am not moving much these days. I’m not going outside, I’m not taking walks, I’m not taking the kids to the park (it’s cold.). I also don’t have any groups to go to these days, so I don’t have any significant reason to get out of the house on a day to day basis. I did take the kids to the zoo last week, and that was fantastic. We all loved getting out of the house and walking for hours outside. But life is a little slow, otherwise, and I’m not moving much.
This takes a significant toll on you over time, and I have found myself budgeting time laying in bed during the day, which is never good.
So, I dream of a balance in myself. I am naturally an active person, and when I am not involved with projects or groups, and am just doing the dishes all day…it will throw my balance off significantly. Right now my balance is off, and I am thinking of ways to get my balance back.
Like taking an afternoon walk and enjoying the sun.