Here it is a Sunday, and it's rather grey outside my window, very calm. It's one of those days where I don't turn on any lights but open all my blinds so it brings the "brightness" of the melancholy day into my apartment. I'm rested, refreshed and ready to take on all the projects that I have set out for myself which include reading, working on a collage, trying out a cleaning home remedy, writing up my bio, and tidying up around my home, amongst a much longer list.Made pancakes for breakfast, bought two newspapers which I leisurely perused for the better part of the morning, while also tuning into one of my favorite programs, "Sunday Morning" on CBS. I then shut off the TV (I'm one of those rare persons of my generation who does not have cable so there isn't much to watch on a Sunday) and have been listening to my local "oldies" music station, enjoying the likes of Elton John, the Beatles, Harry Nilsson, Simon and Garfunkel as well as many of their classmates, and it's been delightful.
Listening to all this old music has made me nostalgic for simpler days. Days where I dreamed of my future and what it might be like. Who I might be, what I might be doing, and whom might I be doing this with or for? And yet, at an age where I feel like I should have more answers than I do to those questions, I am realizing that those days do not have to be considered days past.
I remember as a child going on family vacations or visits to my grandma's house in Pennsylvania - a six-hour car trek both ways made two, sometimes three times a year - and while we traveled I would listen to the music on the radio and look out the window, dreaming of who I'd be as a "grown up." I always envisioned myself as someone famous. People would love me, they would want to be near me, want to be in my world. I would "rub elbows" with all the "glitterati" of Hollywood, have a posh apartment in a glamorous city, wearing fancy outfits and enjoying luxurious foods, drinks and places that I could only fantasize about in my wonderful imagination.
And as I sit here at my computer, knowing full well that I am not a famous person, I still hope that someday I will fulfill some of those dreams. Perhaps I will become famous in my own time. I will be a famous collage maker or writer.
I do not hang out with anyone from Hollywood (although I do know some people who are published authors and I consider famous) nor do I live in a posh apartment (although it is in a pretty amazing location if I do say so myself) and my world is pretty ordinary. But, that doesn't mean it has to stay this way. It doesn't mean I can't still dream of the future.
Why do we do that? Decide that if those dreams we set out for ourselves as children haven't come to fruition, we must put those dreams aside or on a shelf and settle? I mean, yes, times have changed, responsibilities have changed, but why does the dreaming have to stop? I think we should all keep on dreaming, but also put some hard work behind those dreams to give them a shot of coming true.
Because, before you know it, maybe the "glittery" people will be knocking on my door? In the meantime, I'm going to get back to my to do list AND do some more dreaming.
