iRelle

People talk about life getting in the way of great dreams – that once you grow up, settle down, your dreams will never come true – never be anything more than a shrivelled, squalling memory in the back of your mind. But I don’t feel that.

But perhaps it’s that I never aspired to great things. To be a good teacher – to teach and inspire and make others come a little closer to their own grand dreams, but not to be amazing in a big way, myself. A classroom with paintings on the walls, crayons on the tables, kids playing together. I don’t want to be rich, although being moderately well-off and able to take a couple years off when I adopt my babies would be nice. I don’t want a stunningly modern or breathtakingly antique house, or acres of sprawling gardens – just a little house with an overstuffed couch and a dozen brightly coloured throw cushions. A cat asleep on the window seat, some of my own prints on the walls. Someone dear curled up in a comfy chair across the room. Candles on the table and mismatched wine glasses filled with orange juice on a dreary winter morning. The crunch of maple leaves underfoot in Autumn. Summers spent with the crash of the waves close by,  bare floorboards under my feet, a floaty dress on freshly shaved legs. And Spring, bringing a few bobbing daffodil heads and sunny, damp days with rainbows and birdsong.

I don’t know… it’s not a grand dream, nothing extravagant or even out of the ordinary, perhaps. So maybe one day it will come true. Maybe one day…

Or maybe I’ll wake up one day and realise that those people were right, and life does get in the way of your dreams, and that it’s never going to amount to anything, that it’s something I’ll never realise and I may as well get over it.

This is me right now. I can’t make up my mind between being morbid or inspired. I’ll just have to settle for something in-between, and wait to see what happens.

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