In My Dream

we look at the good stuff, too

Hey, friend,

I hope the start of July is treating you well. Portland is sunny this morning, but Mount St. Helens is socked in with clouds to the north, so it’s missing from my usually sunny-weather home office view. I know it’s out there, still white with snowpack. It’s just invisible to me right now.

On Saturday morning, I went to brunch with a good friend. We drank coffee and ate enchiladas and veggies and talked about all kinds of stuff in the breezy morning as we sat outside in the chilly shade, enjoying the cool while it lasted. I’d had a dream the night before that I couldn’t shake and I was frankly pissed about it.

I rattled on about my dream and my conclusion that all my hard work was just not enough. Then I remembered that my friend had been part of a dream group for years, a group of friends helping one another to figure out their dreams—the ones they couldn’t shake.

My friend spoke the dream group incantation, “In my dream,”—and then turned my world upside down in the best way by re-interpreting everything that I’d taken as “not enough.” Her interpretation celebrated my accomplishments in the face of adversity and pointed out that there was enough space for me to reimagine more extravagant, joyful, glorious goodness.

My jaw dropped and I sat there with my mouth open for a long minute. I’d fallen for one of the classic blunders (yes, that’s a Princess Bride reference).

What’s happening while I’m writing this? Miss Bella Prima Peanut, that’s what.

Why is it that so many of us can only see what’s wrong? Why does it take reminding, and conscious effort, to remember what’s right?

In my new dream, there are things that still need fixing and conditions are not ideal. In my new dream, there are also extraordinary feats and everyday, ordinary victories to be celebrated.

Let’s see the whole picture. The whole enchilada. Let’s be that friend for one another.

All my best,
Leslie