Power of Dreams

Friends,

Have you ever had a dream—or dreams—where you’ve been lucky that they’ve clarified situations or relationships previously left obscure in your life? Where they are so dead on so you know deep down in your psyche that every bit of them is truth?

I have been fortunate to have these dreams—not once—but at different times and each time I awaken I am grateful for them. There’s a sense of peace after the haunting and some type of clarification of what was left asunder. It’s an odd yet fascinating experience.

What about you? Have your dreams ever clarified something or situations that were left in the lurch? How did you feel after waking up? Just curious . . . .

~P

 

Friday Moment

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. Photos – no words – capturing moments from the week. Simple, special, extraordinary moments. Moments you want to pause, savour and remember. “This Moment” is a ritual found on  SouleMama’s blog then grabbed by the Wee Man which was lifted from Almost there by Sarah-Jane and snagged from Alejandro.

This is a Friday moment + vision boarding combo post. I want to thank Linda Lee from Dangerous Linda for her friendship and inspiration. Because of her, I had a great moment this week that involved, scissors, glue, contemplation, lots of magazines, and dreams. If you haven’t checked out her blog, head on over! Have a great weekend.

Oneirologist

“The naive judgment of the dreamer on waking assumes that the dream – even if it does not come from another world – has at all events transported the dreamer into another world.”
The Interpretation of Dreams
~By Sigmund Freud

you tried to take away
my wish fulfillment you
dissected it bit by bit until
it became broken into pieces
of quantitative analysis
sterile bits of soul laid bare
upon your theoretical
frameworks

I allowed you to strip me
leaving my subconscious
naked the entire time believing
in your precepts trusting in
your self-professed science
becoming a hypothetical
experiment

how could you have known
anything of my candy colored
absurdities my twilight bathed
inspirations my laurel hopes my
Amazon desires you did not speak
my dream language your muteness
sliced my emotions with surgical
precision

if only you had cared to know
something of my autumnal eyes
my emerald amulet my perpetual
shores my beating waves my cerulean
depths you did not feel my swells
your resolute bias steeled
cool

© Pamela Rossow

Bradbury’s Brainy Bites

Work is done for the day so time to ponder.  I was thinking about Ray Bradbury tonight.  He’s the author of two of my favorite texts: Fahrenheit 451 and Dandelion Wine.  He has penned so many inspiring words I have trouble choosing only some quotes (a few are taped to the shelf above my desk).  Long story shorter (I can never guarantee short), here’s a few of my faves:

“We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.” ~Bradbury

“He glanced back at the wall. How like a mirror, too, her face. Impossible; for how many people did you know who reflected your own light to you? People were more often–he searched for a simile, found one in his work–torches, blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people’s faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your own innermost trembling thought?” ~ Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

“We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.” ~ Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

“You’ll find out it’s little savors and little things that count more than big ones. A walk on a spring morning is better than an eighty-mile ride in a hopped-up car, you know why? Because it’s full of flavors, full of a lot of things growing. You’ve time to seek and find.”~Bradbury (Dandelion Wine)

“Are you happy?” she [Clarisse] said. “Am I what?” he [Montag] cried. But she was gone- running in the moonlight. Her front door shut gently.” ~ Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. “ ~ Bradbury

“If we listened to our intellect we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go in business because we’d be cynical: “It’s gonna go wrong.” Or “She’s going to hurt me.” Or,”I’ve had a couple of bad love affairs, so therefore . . .” Well, that’s nonsense. You’re going to miss life. You’ve got to jump off the cliff all the time and build your wings on the way down.” ~Bradbury
 
“You’re either in love with what you do, or you’re not in love.” ~Bradbury 
 

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” ~Bradbury

Mirror Mirror

Well, it’s Monday and sad to say no humorous blurbs to post (at least not yet).  Too much time apart from my niece and nephew and my big kids. . . grown ups just don’t bring it like the children do!!!! So, this is more of a reflection blog.  My best friend and I were talking till late last night about many things (sorry mom and dad for hogging the phone).  We ended up able to rant, laugh, cry, and get serious all in one conversation (isn’t that what best friends are about? you can completely be yourself and you’re not nuts)? Towards the end of the conversation, something struck me that was pretty profound.   We started our adult, married lives back when (before we met) in completely different places, yet, through the years, traveled similar roads to where we each are now. Today, we are in comparable spaces in many aspects. Each of us wanting to be loved, to keep our families intact despite extenuating circumstances, to be secretly rescued without having to compromise values like honesty, communication, and self-awareness (although, we know our knights most likely won’t be individuals in gleaming armor who guide their horses over hurdles, deftly climb turrets, and profess poems of endearment).

Despite the similarities, we are often in opposite mind sets (and places, she’s married, I’m divorced).  During these times of differences, we realize that we are mirrors to one other.  Depending on who is gazing into the mirror and who is being gazed upon by the reflection, we end up like yin and yang (for lack of a better metaphor).  Our life experiences, dreams, hopes, darkness, failures, defeats, injustices, joys, sweetness bring us to these places where we can look at each other and see (cataract free) from the viewpoint of the other.  This constant viewing of life through the lens of friendship (and the other’s situation) helps us to more clearly define who we want to become as individuals.  To be strong women.  To have hope.  To be self-aware.  To not be so jaded that our hearts become hardened to truth and love.  To know that our journeys are really just beginning (even though we often feel like we’re smack in the midst of them).  To know that we are granted this gift of one another and, through each other, we can support ourselves, our intellects, our emotions.  To recognize that we are part of a larger, global community.  To know that we can make differences in our own lives, each other’s lives, and touch other people as well.  This friendship, micro extending macro, can impact other people for the better.  We’re learning what must be learned and, at some point, we will become teachers of positive change.  Wow, I can end this here on a sociological note (since we both share the same degrees too), it’s late, and I’m not sure I’m presenting this observation too clearly.  Good night friends (or good day)!

P.S. youtube’s copyright issues are more than annoying. . .nearly every good video is being pulled b/c of infringement!  Grrr!


Herbes de Provence

her garden a secret get-a-
way arched trellis to dreams

that came near dawn
silky grasses that caressed

her legs shadowed by towering
seed laden globes golden

drooping under the weight of
mammoth heads flowers that

made her feel small and protected
rich black earth cooled her feet

squished between toes and connected
her to her mother her earth

purplish lavender calming fragrance
the color of sunrise-washed early

morns tinged with twilight blue
savory then fennel with its licorice

sweetness basil her presence
intoxicating clothed in kelly green

thyme can never have too much its fresh
sprigs and tiny leaves awaiting plucking

to be sprinkled over every steaming dish
nights she spent here under a pale

glowing face watching silently as she
slept inhaling perfumed orange blossoms

©  Pamela Rossow

Butterweed

she stood a child amidst
waving grasses a cupped
butterweed flower in her
hands slowly she closed
her eyes letting the
azure mist of the skies
drench her soul gently
she began to pluck each
petal a flaxen butterfly
fluttering to the ground
descending in a graceful
dance he loves me he
loves me not he loves
me he loves me. . .
she paused eyes
closed

Pamela A. Rossow

I Met You in My Dreams

I met you in my dreams
teen REM illumined by
moonlight tinged with silver
you came
I was caught up in your
country boy feel lulled into an
Alabama song slow
dancing close
no dizzying merengue my hair
swept up in a ponytail
flannel and worn jeans
pretense none
the feel of smooth pine
underfoot and your saddle
leather scent hair washed in NC
creek water
waterfalls your eyes cascading over
me your voice a deep rumbling
brook words tumbling about in
your shyness
I met you in my dreams
teen REM illumined by
moonlight tinged with silver
you came

©  Pamela A. Rossow