Happiness, that grand mistress of the ceremonies in the dance of life, impels us through all its mazes and meanderings, but leads none of us by the same route. Charles Caleb Colton
The backstory: Soaring through the sky, with nothing but an engine and wings on my back to guide, is dream of mine. Climbing the rooftops of Paris, on a Spring night, following Quasimodo and the bloom of bougainvillea is a dream of mine too, but I’m not sure any of them would be more meaningfully fun than the moment I shared with my son last night, with him naked in a sling on my back, while I kneeled in the dirt, weaving small a hut for our first humanure composting toilet hut for the play community I live in called Boomtown.
As I wove, he plucked trees and smalls leaves from above us and wove them into my hair. I was lost to the delight of choosing, this pliant stick, this angle, this beauty, this leaf. The sun went down and when he saw the moon, he asked me how the moon could hold her moonbabies if she didn’t have arms. Then he said, oh, the stars are her arms.
The stars are her arms.
It’s a teeny bit difficult to articulate the level of joy and presence I felt in that moment, how shiverfish thrilling every single drop, of every bit of this was to me, how the moment afforded me a chance to experience an alchemy of once distinct joys, now merged into a symphony, or how their unique co-mingling deepened their impact on my life and my own ability to be delighted, to feel, to love. In other words, I experienced meaningful fun.
Fun that fell along the crossroads of my dream meridians.A dream meridian is a way of talking about all the play you do in an area of your life that matters to you and you’ve spent time dreaming about. The play you do in this area, locates you on the dream meridian and you get a satisfying and meaningful buzz when you play there.
I perpetually long for an ever deepening connection to the land, and so being available to the land, spending so many hours with inevitable play, up in the roots of life, and pulling the leaves away so the new life can spring forward is literally living the dream. I love the profound intimacy of my wild and expansive relationships with my children. To be wide awake, playing in meaningful things, spouting natural poetries and creating a little universe of play, together, well, it made me so willing to the fun of the moment that what some people might call work, was an immersion in deep flow play.
Of course our dreams are unique to a player, but it’s interesting that beneath most of these experiences are the same basic feelings, elation, wonderment, great joy, and a feeling of being so happy and present that you don’t want to be anywhere else in the world. What buzzes for you, what feels delicious, is delicious because it’s locating you on some dream meridian and you should trust that and throw off all the voices in your head that you should be doing something else.
AND, and this is my favorite part. Dreams are mostly arbitrary.
We dream and move forward for the bliss of the movingness, to experience our humanness in new and expansive ways. Dreaming is life giving. I used to forget this when I’d beat myself over the head with them, and feel like a failure for not being a Tony Robbins and living all my dreams, today! Right now! Do it! But that’s not the way it is at all! Our joy is the measure of our success (thanks Abraham-Hicks) not accomplishment. There are so many layers to accomplishment anyway. And dreaming and enjoying the imaginative delights are a huge part of any accomplishment.
How relaxing! To be all the way there. I like remembering that the moment of conceiving a dream is as delicious, and sometimes more delicious than the actualization of it. And that all the pieces along the way to a dream are equally as wonderful, but we often miss them because we are so familiar with urgency and discontent.
Recently a lover told me that he was struggling with a conundrum; he felt that if he played deeply with me, he would give up on his specific and gorgeous dreams, like being a private pilot on an island in South America. It was then that I finally realized that I don’t really give a rats ass if I ever skydive from a lear jet going some specific number of miles per hour, or if I ever get to actually dance that little country waltz that Maria and the Captain, in the Sound of Music did. I loved conceiving the dream. And imagine that they’ll be super lovely to actually experience, but what I really want is to be happy and well-seated in own my life, and to stay dancing with the flame, to keep having meaningful fun and to feel happy about the trajectory of my life. Period. I don’t want more details than that.
I’ve missed a lot of those “naked baby on back, starting poem wars with the night skies” kinds of fun because I was rotted with discontent about feeling behind on my dreams, and was therefore unavailable to the dreamland that is always unfolding.
So, am I giving up on dreams? No, not possible. What we dream for ourselves, we do so because we think they’ll make us happy. When we are happy, we are inside of dreamland. Who cares what flavor of hallelujah you’re flourishing in right now?
My action plan: fuzzing the details on my dreams, turning up my willingness to play FULLY wherever I feel a genuine buzz and letting myself be tsunamied by the delights that come when I’m relaxed and fully present. In other words, I’m going to let the stars be my arms.