Here’s a thought, dreaming takes no effort.
Anyone can plop their heads on a pillow at night and dream without a license. No-one should begrudge your precious bucket-list and if people close to you do, lose them as friends. When we are awake and basking in the sun, (assuming you live in California) or lost on a dirt road, we wait. We wait for Fridays to feel giddy about our week, we wait for payday, we wait while a seed grows for nine months then birth a child who never outgrows our care.
For love, we wait for prince charming, I did. I got one with a lopsided smile that arrests my heart.
Boys wait too. Wondering, will I find the one? Will she open up to me, curl up to me in her sleep? Will she love me the same when I’m down?
We anticipate seasons (except tax season) and the magic we project on each one. In and out of season, we can seek happiness, meaning and find ways to serve. Most can’t wait to retire, but fear death. Sometimes we don’t even know what we are holding out for. We just know there’s “something more…”
The worst kind is waiting to be happy. Waiters serve.
I have realized that the real out-of-body-experience isn’t meeting a celebrity, or getting that sale or recognition but the tangible, wild, pulsating joy of volunteering and giving of myself. It is truly more satisfying to give than to receive. I’m grateful to TCOTW for letting me give.
What determines our quality of life? Per capita income? Even in developing countries, lives are drastically changed when people stop waiting to be served and get busy with life.
Immortality is wired in our hearts. Forever is a really long time to spend regretting not making a mark. We are deeply terrified of being forgotten. So with peace we’ll serve. On the way to our dreams, we’ll serve. Happy is always lurking at the corner of our lips.
If all we do is dream, like those fleeting visions…we will be forgotten.
Unexpected Tranquility by Wendell Berry
I come into the peace of wild things,
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief
I come to the presence of still water
And I feel above me the day – blind stars waiting their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world
and am free.
PS: I am becoming a big fan of Wendell Berry. He is 80 years…still waiting and serving.