The Pressing
Monday, March 1st, 2010I have dreams. Dreams of perfect days and gladness and joy. When my highest thoughts in their purest form take their wings. Sometimes I feel the cool relief of the faintest breeze under my wings and my feet stretch out, toes barely touching the ground.

But as easily and quickly as it came, the joyous current dies, and my wings fall away, into the clashing sounds of responsibility and burden. It it were not for the contentment in serving and the fine honing that comes from persevering, there would be no need in going on.

Anyway, dreams don’t die easily. They can be put away, put down, shut up, spoken to harshly, and pressed and pressed again by the weight of what one must do.

Dreams have a way of preserving themselves and coming back again, in a keener and keener form. Like a knocking at the door that won’t go away, dreams call and call again, sure that you need what they hold out to you.

So it’s good to listen and to bring the dreams out and to nurture them and run after them. No matter how pressed down dreams have been, they are still just as strong — maybe stronger, and they shine better than before.

Sometimes, with the pressing, dreams just get more and more beautiful. With the pressing, perfect days become more precious. With the pressing that is life, we learn a strength and determination that could have come no other way.

With the pressing, we see colors we never knew were in us, and ideas and thoughts that could never have made it to the surface, without the pressing. Thus I choose to keep believing that, like cream rising to the top of a worn pitcher in an old country kitchen, some sweet day my dream will surface, fully formed, and I’ll have my wings.

PS — Sometimes I just need to ramble. It’s a rocky road some days, but you are welcome to come with me.





































for you to leave a comment, but you can also e-mail me at lynn AT thehealthyhomeschool.com





