I hear my father’s shuffling step in the hallway. His Parkinson’s prevents his full and balanced stride. His once strong figure is bent over and he holds his head up to look forward. At the table I serve him his meal just as my mother had done for more than five decades. He waits for me to join him to bless the food. His voice spent from years of preaching, tells me in a whisper that he enjoys the meal. I ask him if he dreams at night. He nods and says that he dreams himself preaching. In the excitement of preaching he walks right off the platform and is suspended in air. He recalls when a gifted preacher had heard my dad preach and paid him a compliment. This was a highlight in his life to receive such kind words, like a rose laid at his feet by an admirer. Father looked into the distance of the years as he told me this, then he said that this same preacher had encouraged him to write. I smile and wonder at the idea that an 81 year old man would still have dreams.
I have dreams. I dream about traveling to places I have only read about. I dream about writing a book. I dream about speaking to large groups of people. My dreams bring a smile to my face. They wake me up in the morning and lead me to my laptop to write conversations I hear in my mind. My dreams keep me headed toward the future and prevent me from dwelling too long in the past. My dreams give my present a purpose and a direction.
Dreams are the hope for the future, a feeling that something desirable awaits us. Without hope the future cannot be framed in our imagination. Dreams are a vision of a better place and a beauty beyond today. A vision is the shape of tomorrow’s reality and the hint of sanity in our present circumstances a Everything we see today was someone’s dream yesterday.
Dreams are birthed and nurtured. They grow in fertile dream greenhouses. Dreams do not have impossible in their dictionary. If you want to see people who live without “impossible” watch young children play. They pretend. They step beyond reality and for a moment in time they travel into their dreams. They play in a place where they make up the rules, and then they change the rules to accommodate the plot of their play. They invent tools and technology to further their play and bring in characters as needed. When the teacher calls them in from recess they quickly return to their present reality full of stories of the places they have been. The excitement of the travel into their dreams is contagious and they pledge each other to continue this play during lunch recess.
Assuredly we shall continue hoping and dreaming for hope is the engine propelling us toward tomorrow and dreams are the artist sculpting our future.
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