A couple strange dreams last night. One was about a meeting. Another about a horserace.
The meeting dream: I approached my seat in a room filled with familiar people (church, maybe?) and sat next to a friend I knew but didn’t recognize. The meeting moderator began going over the agenda, warning us not to use the word "camel" explaining that it had become a sacred word, and no longer politically correct to speak in public. The substitute word, she explained further, was "kaedra" and announced that I would be the one to listen for offenders. She then explained that I was the most qualified in the group for this task based on my track record as a writer. (okay, whatever. It's a dream, remember...)
Next thing I knew, I was delivering a speech about why I write. I began by relaying how, when I was fifteen, someone told me I had a way with words. I continued on about following my heart, praying and looking for opportunities to do what it is I was meant to do.
The weird part is that everyone was at rapt attention, even while the whole time I was trying unsuccessfully to screw a lid onto a travel mug that had been placed at each of our spots.
Then, out of nowhere a young woman asked “Can you begin a sentence with the word ‘T’was’?”
I said: “T’was quite unfortunate that these mugs, which I’m sure we paid for, were improperly made.”
The horserace dream ended with me quizzing my son about why, when he approached the pack racing toward the finish, he dropped the reins and let the horse fall back. I knew he would have won if he’d just kept going. He wouldn’t answer me. When I woke up, I recognized it was actually me on the horse - afraid of getting hurt by pushing through to the finish line.
Then I woke up.
This morning, the first thing I read in my email was today’s post from Infuze (an online publication at http://www.infuzemagazine.com/) Couldn’t have been more relevant.
I Dare You to Move, indeed.