We all dream – day-dreams or those scarcely remembered fragments of dreams while asleep. And while dreams obviously have a purpose, no one is quite sure what they are, or where they “come from”. I’m not talking about “nightmares” – they seem to be of a different order entirely.
It matters not – the fact is that we do dream and many derive comfort from what they “see” or “experience” while dreaming. Similarly we all indulge in reverie at times during the day – thinking of what was or what might be. Like all dreams, however, these are impossible to control – they “arrive” seemingly without invitation.
But in the words of the song, from the movie, South Pacific, “If you don’t have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?”
But reality always seems to intrude and draw one’s attention to what is termed “reality”. But I wonder if it really is reality?
What is the “mind”, presumably the origin of dreams? A good example of the power of the mind is that strange phenomenon known as the “placebo effect”. This is when a patient is told the medication (a sugar pill) or fake operation (yes those happen) is the real deal and strangely people seem to benefit and even get better.
How and why? Know one has an answer.
As some readers of my ramblings might recall, I find that poets often expresses in verse what might take me a whole page to say in prose. Poetry is almost always about the human condition – love, disappointment, death and life’s tribulations in general.
The anonymous poet who writes under the name “Atticus” often has a short verse about many matters that are driven by the mind – what a person thinks and the power of thought. And some of his verse reminds me of my life with Magucha. Take this one for instance:-
“She was powerful
not because she wasn’t scared
but because
she went on strongly
despite the fear.”
That fits Magucha perfectly – I never ever saw her frightened. Not ever.
I’m not sure if she was ever told this but I truly believe that all, yes ALL, girls should be told this:-
“You are a bird,
my girl,’
her father said,
“shake the water from your feathers
spread those mighty wings
and fly.”
Also, in Magucha’s case:
“Her courage was her crown
and she wore it like a queen.”
Then:-
“The bravest thing
she ever did
was to stay alive
each day.”
And finally, because Magucha lived with such a precarious medical condition for the entire time I knew her, about thirty-eight years, I always tried to ease the weight of the burdens she carried. I hope I succeeded.
Atticus wrote this, which is what, as best I could, I always tried to do:-
“He shielded
her heart
like a flame
in a storm –
his back
against the wind.”
As always the dreams remain and often surface with extraordinary vividness completely “out of the blue”. They are just there!
