I had a dream the other night that I was visiting this touristy little town called Everitt. The main attraction was a castle surrounded by a flag lined fence. There was a celebration going on. Inside, lords and ladies dressed in wigs and fancy clothing were dancing in a grand ballroom. The next room was a huge gymnasium where we swam in the indoor wood lined swimming pool. Next to the castle was a beautiful park with a large lake. There were swans a swimming and lots of green grass and trees with lovely shady places. It was a gorgeous summer day. I have been dreaming of summer every night since then. I obviously miss it haha.
It's musical time at school! This year we are doing Cinderella, which I think explains the rest of my dream. I have played for Cinderella before and unfortunately, it's not one I really want to repeat. We're only 2 weeks in and I already feel like the work I've done is too much and not worth it. The songs are becoming torturous earworms. Ugh. Not a good sign. But I'm going to try my best to have a good attitude about it and find some fun in the process.
January can be such a drag. I feel like I've been struggling to get through each day. But it can also be a great time to hunker down and get some real work done. That inspiration has not hit me yet but maybe this week. I am giving myself permission to feel sad about things. Because that's how things go in January sometimes. I like this poem that has been popping up in my circles over the last week. It reminds me that time keeps marching on and soon enough, I will have survived another January.
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
|You do not have to be good.|
|You do not have to walk on your knees|
|for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.|
|You only have to let the soft animal of your body|
|love what it loves.|
|Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.|
|Meanwhile the world goes on.|
|Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain|
|are moving across the landscapes,|
|over the prairies and the deep trees,|
|the mountains and the rivers.|
|Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,|
|are heading home again.|
|Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,|
|the world offers itself to your imagination,|
|calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -|
|over and over announcing your place|
|in the family of things.|