Dust Off Those Dreams On A Shelf

Thinking my Air Miles points were going to expire at the end of December, I started perusing their Dream Rewards catalogue.

Choices are limited given the combination of a meagre points tally and not in need for much.

More “stuff” need not apply.

 

Catching my eye, however, were snowshoes, a telescope, a guitar and binoculars.

Falling into dreamland took but a blink.

Cloudless blue skies, the sun sparkling off untouched snow, fresh cool air on the cheeks and only the crunch of snowshoes breaking the silence.

Enveloped by the darkness of night, overflowing with awe peering through the telescope into the vastness of a trillion stars, wondering if one would go out forever at that very moment.

Effortlessly picking on strings, finally making the guitar sing like it does in my head, lost in some faraway place.

 

S.m.a.c.k.

Reality returned with core cutting questions.

How many times did your snowshoes and cross country skis touch snow?

Never

Where did you set up that telescope you had as a teenager?

Okay, the living room

How many times have you quit guitar lessons?

Two. Or was it three.

What shelf are you going to put these on?

Ouch

 

A series of images flashed to mind.

Dust-laden astronomy books to identify constellations and their stories.

Free Udemy courses never started.

Sheet sets, blankets and towels in the linen closet for the stream of guests yet to come.

Yards and yards of fleece to sew that cool idea for cat bed covers.

Extra place settings, cutlery and glasses for hosting regular “slow food” gatherings.

(Gratefully those have seen a bit of use.)

 

All purchased to fulfil a grand vision.

Yet none happened.

Dreams on a shelf.

 

Storage shelves fully packed with partly used containers.

 

But there’s no reason to get down with the reality smack.

Quite the opposite actually.

I’m on track.

 

The past several months have been focused on purposeful choices.

Obserflecting on what’s grabbing my attention,

or stirring excitement.

 

There’s more to snowshoes, telescopes and guitars than meets the eye.

They’re trying to tell me something –

about who I think I am or who I’ll think I’ll be.

about what’s important and what I value.

about what part of me wants to be seen.

 

Sometimes the insights are right there on the surface.

Most often though, one layer opens to reveal another which leads more underneath.

Diving deeper takes me on a journey from mixed messages to greater clarity where so much makes sense.

 

Remember the binoculars?

I’d bet good money they’ll be chosen.

A second pair would be well used and didn’t cause a reality smack.

Enough points would remain for the telescope, but going ahead requires a bit of mucking about.

First I want to know more about the message I’m sending to myself.

 

Have you ever bought something you’ve never used? Does it hold a dream you hope is someday fulfilled?

 

feel free to share

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Lorraine Watson - on rustic porch

chief nudging officer

Lorraine

Crazy for cats and potatoes, Lorraine's insatiable curiosity of Life leads her to question, explore and push beyond the box. A self-professed "left-brained creative big picture" type, she has an intuitive knack for seeing beyond and beneath first appearances while at the same time nerding out on the details. Most of all she sees and holds others in their highest until they can see it for themselves.

2 Comments

  1. Carrie Ann Lahain on December 10, 2015 at 10:42 am

    Tarot cards. Yoga DVDs/equipment. An upright piano AND an electronic keyboard. Shelves of gardening and herb books. All the Carries I could have been or wished to become. Good thing is that I can still choose to explore any of these other selves or create more. Losing Michael has upended my life…but it’s also cleared the decks in a way. I feel free to begin again. Lots of the old imperatives and should-dos are gone. For example, I still plan to build a lot of my time around reading and writing, but the internal push to market, market, market my work has dissipated. Michael, wonderful husband that he was, arranged things so that I no longer need to worry about the financial success of my work. He wanted me to have a happy, beautiful life and to be, as he put it, “free as a bird.” This is wonderful. And terrifying. “Have a beautiful, happy life.” It’s what we all want. It’s huge. I get the sense that I’m on the verge of a massive undertaking. Luckily those shelved dreams provide a place to start. They are raw materials. So three cheers for dusty, cramped shelves!

    • Lorraine on December 12, 2015 at 9:45 pm

      Ooooh, this feels so much like the building anticipation of seeing all the gifts under the tree. Only the opening is the beginning instead of the end. You have some very interesting threads to work with no matter where you start on those shelves.

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