Posted on Jan 5, 2016 in Blog |

My day started out so awesome. I came into Katie’s Coffeehouse at 9 am to start working on the final Lyme Savvy manuscript. I sipped on my vanilla chai and relished in the moment of finally have the entire manuscript back in my hands to finish up.

A friend met me at ten am, as planned. She’s a painter and we have found that we have more life events and heart events in common than most.

IMG_0882.JPGShe proposed the possibility of being able to go to Taos, NM for 1-3 months just to paint. The house is in Arroyo Hondo, where I rented a house my first time in Taos. The magic was happening again. I could barely contain my breath. When I attended my first writers’ conference eight years ago, that’s where I finally realized I AM a writer. I AM an author. My excitement was tangible once again on this cold winter morning as it was on that summer day after writing for many hours.

My friend then encouraged me to take a painting course. I have always wanted to take one, but have been too afraid.

I confessed, “Every time I have tried to paint, I have ended up painting words.” I felt as though I was letting her down before we had even started.

She immediately retorted with, “Well, what’s wrong with that? You can still paint using words!”

Permission granted.

In a few weeks, we will meet in her basement and she will begin this intimate process of teaching painting.

I came away from our time excited about learning a new talent, about the deepening of our friendship, and about the possibility of making a dream come true to go out to Taos to write for an extended period of time.

I arrived at work and was immediately met with circumstances that created stress, frustration, and disappointment. Then someone hurt my heart. And I am not sure they even know it. “To dream about writing in Taos for an extended time is simply ridiculous.” And it went on from there.

So, my wild dream of being somewhere remote surrounded by fascinating culture and magical vistas was squashed. And it hurt.

I think what hurt the most was that while for two hours, I dreamed of learning new talents, and dreaming new dreams, I was visualizing myself as whole, as wholly healed. I wasn’t thinking about my med schedule, or the possibility intensity of my herxes. I thought only of me sitting in a chair for hours, smelling the acrylic paints, the wet turpentine rag in my hand erasing the paint from my canvas.

My dream of Taos slipped back to writing at Starbucks when I can catch an hour or two away from the family and work.

Dreams keep us going. Dreams let us envision ourselves healed and whole. It’s important to dream.

But when the dreams are shared and then crushed by others, it’s important to remember we can still hold those dreams. We can still build them and make them come to fruition. Dreams give us goals. They give us a reason to heal. They give us a project to break down and figure out how to make it work. That’s all positive energy.

This week, I’m going to hold my heart a little closer in, and I’m still going to dream of being a writer so famous and so rich and so motivated that I can take three months off to write in a casita in the desert.

What is your dream?