When I was a very small girl, still equipped with faerie wings and buoyant thoughts, I wrote myself a letter. A letter intended for my adult Self. It asked (demanded more like) for me to not forget the magic.
It said that I knew life would scare away my special world and that I must hold onto it. Even just a string.. so that I could find my way back when I had the heart for it. This was when I was about 7…so 20 years ago.
It wasn’t until a meditation I was in just recently that the gravity of that letter made its way back to the forefront of my consciousness.
Ah…
I had stopped believing in the magic. I’ll be damned. For along my walk-about through life and its obstacles, its wildfires and reckonings, I had chosen pragmatism and logic over trust and intuition. I would rather be a bit cynical and safe than unbound in my dream and thus vulnerable. For faith in something one cannot see is quite so. Similar to handing your heart away to someone you love. Its kindof yucky feeling but hell, you gotta. Yucky and strange and bold and divine.
We are here to get bigger, and to do so we must believe ourselves. WE. MUST. BELIEVE IT DAMNIT. And to carry the weight to pull this off, we must have a brave heart.
Kilt and all.
So this day I began my journey back to where I began. To the beautiful world I once believed in..the one that sang to me just as I sang to it. A place with an essence like your favorite book. A place where just beyond the treeline there could be kingdoms, and just beyond the clouds dragons. A place where my feet floated just a bit. I began, with my pragmatism and logic stomping their feet, to follow that thin string back home.
‘Dream Keeper’ is what I painted during this journey.
She is a Keeper of this dream.
Maybe even a guide back to it. Sending reminders to you that it does exist in the form of white feathers on the sidewalk and synchronicities.
For we all have this dream, cradled by our spirit and kept breathing as our heart beats. It very well will never be seen by anyone but us…and that at times nearly breaks my heart. But the true heartbreak is when your dream is unseen by even you.
Now then.
Let us follow the string back home.