Yesterday when I closed my eyes for a short nap, I saw bits of this dream with an added piece: a small unfamiliar child peeling the skin off of a kiwi segment. Later in the day, I took little Addi to the Ends of the Earth exhibit, followed by a trip to the zoo, where she knocked me out of energy, and I her. The remembrance of the dream was forgiven.
What a beautiful kid. I want her to write more but I feel that perhaps with the surrounding environment of t.v. and other kids who hate school (and loathe the idea of doing any sort of "work" outside of school), she might just giggle, say "No!" and run off.
She says so many things that could be written, and saved for her later years. So she can remember her core being, and learn to love the person she is, and is becoming.
When I'm thinking a thought that I deem worthy of recording, I usually don't act on it because I fall out of the state in which the thought occurred, and which I want it written, by the physical act of writing.
In a similar vein, but off this specific topic, on the occasion that I find myself alone and in a pleasant state of mind, I don't want any distractions in my frame at all, not even my own movement, because I am desperate to stay in it. Today this happened when I was sitting out on the stairs, absorbed in the idea of "quietly hopeful", when a woman complimented me on my skirt.
I've been really aware lately, to the point of removed happiness. I'll often think something similar to "Alright, I'm happy right now." during the course of my moment. And with an almost pained consciousness of my happiness, comes a looming awareness that I'm going to come out of it soon.
I take solace in the time I spend with good-hearted folk. My goddaughter is my life and I am counting down the days of her return. Addi is amazing and growing faster in my eyes because I seldom have days with her. Love is still lost on me, but I find comfort in good conversation and great company.
I just wish I wasn't always bracing myself.