It is a coffee shop in the mornings. A cafe at night. The most significant change in the day is the music and the glowing of tiny lights outside. Those customers, they are so regular that they become family.
I no longer see me in it.
And this scares me.
It is that ocean property. Long drafting tables, white light coming through the windows with the sounds and smells of the beach. In that one everyone was always smiling and laughing. There is this one absolutely creative, intelligent, no one smiles like that guy who was always there though his face would change from time to time.
And, oh man, I could dream.
But I rarely do so anymore.
And sometimes I tell myself that this is growing up, fool. Get your head out of the clouds. Do the work. You were always too dreamy, child.
It was a small mountain cabin. A stone fireplace and a guy who specialized in many things, two of which were gathering and stacking wood. We'd hunt and fish and grow our food, and a plane would fly over once a month to drop provisions. Yes, I loved Grizzly Adams as a kid.
I miss those airy, soft focused pictures of what I hoped could be. They were incredibly selfish. When I dreamed this way I didn't dream of world peace, but then one of my favorite quotes starts with Be the change.
So here is what I am going to do: I am going to try and start dreaming again.
Two pages a day.
The first page is gratitude for what is now.
The second page is gratitude for what is to be.
The future part is tricky because I have to believe it.
This may not work.
Some of the work may show up here.
So I guess this is Happy New Year.
Tomorrow I start my resolution of dreaming again.
Today I am grateful to know what it is like to dream of beautiful things and people and places.