I dreamt of an old house of some kind, perhaps it was a castle. It’s antiquity created a sense of dread, somehow. I was with a teenage boy, and a little boy – the scenario felt sibling like, although I don’t remember entirely who they were. My memory is of the late stages of the dream; we had decided to run away as we had become very scared, and, as we ran, one of the men cleaning the windows of this house grabbed the youngest of us, and thus began the story of the daring rescue of the baby brother. Sounds like Labyrinth! We ran back, but the man cleaning the window had gone. The street was suddenly empty. On the left of this old, cobbled street, were the walls of the castle. On the left, antiquated shops – I remember a sweet shop – probably entirely to do with the fact that I’ve stopped having sugar in my tea.
I also remember another dream, vaguely. Some kind of family event. In these dreams, my Mum is always really strong, a forthright, glamorous, together woman. This fascinates me. I think of my Mum as being the strongest person I know; she’s been through so much over her life – I can’t imagine how I’d be if I had to endure, from, literally, Day One, what she has endured. She is amazing. I suppose this vision of her that I have in dreams is the reflection of how I truly see her; an exceptional woman.
I woke up to the sound of the rain pouring outside and strong winds. The winds were so strong that I wondered whether there was a major storm in process. Looking outside now, I’m struck by the hue of the scene, the intensity of the strokes of the image; the leaves growing on the browned panels of the fence have never looked greener. The sky has never looked more grey. More beautiful, on a rainy day. It’s almost as though someone has decided to paint the picture of melancholy itself and has finally managed to create it, complete with the fundamental beauty, clarity, and sincerity that comes with such a state. Somehow, on a Saturday, it seems cool that the world looks like this. Perhaps it is simply because I have lots to get through today and a grey day makes it easier to spend the day indoors. I doubt it though. Today, is a particularly beautiful day.
I woke up to Cry, Baby Cry, this morning. Billy’s IPod is plugged in, so rather than the usual hummings of the radio, I had a fantastic variety of tracks to slowly come into consciousness to. Cry, Baby Cry, followed by Love or Confusion, followed by the Tron end credits music, which I hadn’t heard before but I liked it, not least of all because it reminded me of Amiga music; unbeatable!
I also woke full of gratitude. I felt this wonderful sense of clarity. That I am lucky in life. I’ve found someone to share life with who’s love for me is never in question. Who will, I believe, do anything for me, and who supports me in what I do, and in my aspirations. Who I can laugh with, joke with, be silly with, be myself with, good, bad and ugly. Someone who doesn’t bear a grudge. Who can be grumpy but who never means it. Someone who wants to keep on being better. That is lucky. I have a brother who is unwavering in his faith in me; who I can turn to, laugh with, be creative with and talk to about the crazier layers of life. A Dad who inspires me more now than he ever has before, who has TRANSFORMED into the person who he truly is, and continues to learn and explore life, refusing to stop moving forward and overcoming his own obstacles and barriers. A Mum who has such capacity to love it makes me cry to think about it. A sister who wants to be part of my world. A best friend who I can depend on through thick and thin for perspective, love and hilarity. Friends who I truly believe love me. How many people can say that, in their life, they truly feel and believe the love that those in their life feel for them? I’m lucky. That’s how I feel this morning. Damn lucky. And it’s a great feeling to start the day with!
Right, on with Today. My Favourite Day. Plenty to do! First stop – workout. Yeah!