Dreams

Not the kind that comfort or haunt your sleep but the kind that sustain you and are slowly grown in your subconscious mind during your waking hours.  The kind in which you see the future as you would like it to be.  Your longings and desires.  What forms those kinds of dreams?

Surely even the most desperate of environments can't take away the desires of a young girls heart.  We've seen the story time and again.  Eventually, whether they admit it or not, they all long for Mr. Right to come along and sweep them off their feet.  But if you've never seen that kind of life and never known the kindness of others, where does this idea begin?
 
And young men, who are evil or selfish at heart, do they really want that?  Do they begin as a child with a desire to dominate and control the world around them?  Or do they, too, have a longing for a peaceful, prosperous life that contains the faithful devotion of a soulmate...a wife?
 
All selfishness aside, what do we all really want?  Peace? Contentment? Belonging to something?  Doing something for others?  Having friends and family who care for us.  To feel like we count for something?  To know we've done well.  Maybe not in a prosperous sense but in an overall sense that we're okay.

But then, enter a nature that is haughty, selfish and uncaring.  One that protects itself from external pain, possibly of their own making, by stiking out and hurting others...keeping everyone at arms length to avoid feeling more hurt but in reality, bringing hurt and seclusion back on one's self in a destructive spiral.  Trying to force people to do what they want by manipulation and threats.  No room for compromise or other peoples plans...it's all or nothing. 

Leaving those close to them no alternative other than to defend themselves against the assault of their temper and anger...or simply stay away leaving them more alone than before. Not really what anyone wants. It's robbery.  Stealing hope, shared experiences, chances for love and togetherness.

When you love someone like that, it takes the joy from the loving experience.  It hurts everyone involved.  It leads to damaged relationships, closed doors, and defensive attitudes. 

No dream is safe to share.  No idea good enough to develop.  No worry or care important enough to deserve compassion. 

YOU are a failure and you are incapable of making that person happy.  You haven't lived up to their expectations. And their unhappy, lonely existance is your fault...and you're gonna pay!

It's a sad thing.

But it doesn't have to be that way.

Dreams are important...they give us hope.

Hope is something everybody needs.

Pondering...as always,
Wanderer


"If you think you've given something your all, but your all is all about you, then you haven't truly given anything." ~A. Gimbledorf

The Wall #11

  This post is in response to a writing prompt from Jenny Matlock and her meme, Saturday Centus.  This week's prompt is in bold, italic font.  The allotted word count was 150 plus the 4 words of the prompt.  My spin on the Centus for the last 11 weeks has been a continuing story based on a few memories, some family history and my imagination.  If you'd like to read the story from the beginning, click here.
Without further delay, The Wall continues...

~He'd tell stories about the railroad and how hard the men worked. It was a time of segregation and the Klan, war and depression, increasing industry and women leaving home to support their families while the men were overseas. Once women began to enjoy their independence, they weren't so quick to come home and many couldn't because their husbands and sons never came back.

I often wonder about those times and thought how brave those men must have been. Then I remembered that many were just young boys with visions of glory that ended quickly in a hastily dug trench on foreign soil. The women, just girls who had to carry on.

I snapped out of my reverie and thought, “If I die young, who will carry on my quest?”

I'm not really that young anymore but still much younger than grandfather was when he died at 87. The thought gave me courage.~

I'd like to thank everyone who has been following this story and leaving such encouraging comments.  It means alot to me and spurs me to keep it going.  It's also fun to read your takes on the prompt.
Have a great week!

Pondering My Meanderings,
Wanderer

The Wall #10

Based on the writing prompts of Jenny Matlock, this week's entry may contain up to 53 words including the prompt, "Laugh out loud" and a picture if desired.  Click on the Saturday Centus button to read the other entries or share one of your own.

The continuing saga of The Wall...

~Grandfather loved playing his fiddle and singing! He'd pull it out of the chest in his room and say, “Sit a spell and I'll play you a piece!” I laugh out loud remembering that he never called me by my name. After listing his daughters, he'd end at Sharry and that stuck.~

You can read the rest of the story by clicking on The Wall tab at the top of the page.

Pondering My Meanderings,
Wanderer

Days Gone By

Where has the summer gone?  How many times have you heard that remark?  It seems that the older I get, the shorter the summer. 

We started out in a rush, putting off things that we hoped to do later only to find that time had passed us by before they were accomplished.  A blur of VBS, Summer Workshop, Theater, piled on top of work and responsibilities quickly steals precious moments.

It's only one more week until my daughter returns to college for the Fall.  As I look back over the past year, I see so much to be thankful for in her life.  Opportunities, Knowledge, Friendships, Decisions, Adventure...I'm so grateful for the blessings she's received.  I'm praying for another good year with good friends.  She's meeting folks from all over the world and experiencing other cultures in worship and play.  To find a bosom friend is certainly a gift I am especially glad to see.  I pray that relationship will only grow stronger as the years pass.

Seems the herald of this final week comes as a sign from the heavens.  Mid-August brings the Perseid Meteor Showers and their fantastic displays of burning dust streaking across the night sky.  Be sure to take the time to watch for a shooting star this weekend.
 
This, was an incredibly emotional time for me last year as I prepared to send my first born 7 hours away to college for the first time.  As I thought about those meteors, and all the times we'd spent lying on blankets, in the grass, on the hill, sometimes just us, sometimes with neighbor kids, waiting in anticipation for the bright flashes that always drew, "Ooooo's" and "Awwww's!", no matter how many we'd already seen, I was a little weepy that cloud cover kept us from watching them together.  Seemed cruel, somehow. 

That night, I wrote a little poem, Softly, Softly about those special times...times we'll remember.  Don't worry.  It's not all sappy and melancholy...it's about the meteor showers...no, really it is!  Makes me feel like listening quietly and watching with the innocence and openness of a child in hopes of making a memory for later. 

If only I could capture one of those tiny  flashes of light to keep in my pocket, I know I could be more brave!  Don't you think so, too?


Pondering My Meanderings,
Wanderer

Isolation and Confinement

Sometimes I feel like I am completely isolated, confined to a place dictated by others.  I think that must be how children feel sometimes.  They can't be who they want to be because others put them in a certain spot and hold them there.  Maybe rightfully so, maybe not.  Know what I mean? 

And then there are times when I wonder...am I the one who put these wall here?  In my heart, I'd break free in a moment.  But I don't...I can't...why?  Because old habits die hard?  Because the opinion of someone who is really important to me has made such a deep impression on my life that I can't shake it? 

Maybe deep down, I know the truth...or when I'm strong, I can break out of this "place" but when I'm weak, I don't even have to think about it and all the old ideas come rushing in and put me right back where I started.  Squashed and confined to misled opinions based on assumptions that are the figment of someone else's unhappy life. 
I'm not that person...people think they know me but they don't.  Maybe the worst part is that they don't take the time to see me for who I am...I'm more than the box they've assigned to me.  But, it's more comfortable to keep me here in this "place" because it makes them feel better about themselves. 

But, there is someone who thinks I'm valuable, more than just a stepping stone.  And my heart belongs to Him.

Pondering My Meanderings,
Wanderer

The Wall #9

In response to the weekly prompt from Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus. Word limit for today - 50 words plus the prompt...The Wall continues...

Fighting on the street below interrupted my sleep but quickly dispersed when the angry innkeeper stepped outside.


Drifting off to another childhood memory...Grandfather's cabin beside a tiny lake up north. Swinging together on the porch swing each evening, he sang, “You are my sunshine, My only sunshine...”, until my head began to nod.


In case you're wondering what this is all about, you can read the continuing story @ The Wall page.




Pondering My Meanderings,
Wanderer