My sister calls me, because everyday after we text for twenty minutes we are always like, maybe we should talk on the phone? And so we do. It is easier to talk on the phone while washing dishes than texting and washing dishes, so it’s usually a pretty good way to multi-task. But this day I wasn’t washing dishes. I had done them the night before, after dinner, when I promised everyone in the house I wasn’t in a bad mood, yet for some reason I decided washing dishes was the ONLY CHOICE IN THE WORLD. “I’m not grumpy, okayyy???” (says girl while furiously scrubbing pan).
So my sister calls and I am doing the most uncharacteristic thing ever. Cleaning out my closet. Now, I’m pretty good about hauling things to the Goodwill on a weekly basis. I am really good at getting rid of things. The clothing is often sorted out as I fold it, and added to the ‘give away pile’ or often times the ‘garbage pile’. But being a purger by nature does not mean I am a cleaner by nature. They are two very different talents.
So I was in my room sorting through every item of clothing and every pair of shoes, the heap was getting pretty impressive. Also, my closet was suddenly manageable. And by manageable I mean there was no longer a dozen-ish pairs of shoes thrown in a pile on the floor. Of both the closet, and my actual bedroom.
My sister was like, “What are you doing?” and I was like, “I’m cleaning my closet, ISN’T THAT SO WIERD?” and she was like, “UM, ACTUALLY IT IS SUPER FREAKY BECAUSE I HAD A DREAM ABOUT YOU CLEANING YOUR CLOSET LAST NIGHT!!!”
I know, right?!
The dream she had involved her, my mom, and me all standing in my room and I was showing them how clean my closet was. And they were like, “But there are only 2 pieces of clothes in your closet, Anya. Where did you put everything?” And I was like, “I got rid of it all I am only wearing PPP clothing now.” And they were like, “But that means you only have a dress, a few shirts and some pajama pants.” And I was all, “I KNOW! COOL RIGHT?” And they were like, “That is so weird, you could have like, paced yourself, at least kept a pair of jeans.” And I was like, “NO. IT’S ALL OR NOTHING, YO.”
Okay, I don’t think I actually became a gangster in her dream. But dreams are all about interpretation, right?!
So then my sister and I were like THIS IS SO WEIRD>
Because it was, and also because dreams are weird in general. And not just the ones that happen when we close are eyes and go to sleep. The dreams we hold, that we are writing on the tablet of our heart, that we are fighting to make come true every day of our lives, are very weird sometimes, too. Or seem too crazy or too freaky or just like, make no sense.
But that is why dreams are so completely amazing.
I was reading a children’s picture book from the library. It is called An Awesome Book. And it was, awesome, because it was talking about dreams and that how somewhere along the way we stop dreaming about rocket powered unicorns and magic watermelon boats and we start dreaming about fancy cars and houses with lots of rooms and I love that. I love a story written for kids about keeping our dreams crazy and weird and fantastic.
And I love that for me, too. I want to keep my dreams crazy and weird and fantastic. I want you to keep your dreams crazy and weird and fantastic, too.
Keep dreaming. Of clean closets and maybe, also, that little dream that that is hanging around your heart, that could be ten times bigger if you remember it’s okay to have a dream that big. And even one ten times bigger than that.
And tell someone about it. Call them, don’t text them, and say, “Wanna hear about my crazy dream?” And then tell them all about it. They will want to hear.