The colors we choose whilst dreaming.
Photo: society6.com.
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt
When your soundtrack is Chopin, everything feels like a dream.
Every time I listen to the intricate melodies through my headphones, I feel as if I am floating on a cloud and whatever happens will be softened by the ethereal euphoria that is accompanying me.
My journey to Costa Rica felt more like a dream than any other, every step was a second closer to an adventure that I’d been planning for months. As I traveled, the piano became my soundtrack, a cushion for my self doubt and worry that appears when everything seems too good to be true.
On the train to the airport, the music added beauty to the mundane of the transit system. On the aeroplane, it was overpowered by the engine and I had to wake up and grasp the fact that the trip I had been anticipating for months was actually happening.
My destination was 200 hours of yoga teacher training in the jungle and even though I was on my way, the prospect of the following three weeks felt like a feather floating along the breeze. One small gust and it might be out of reach, the fear of the uncontrollable. The little voice inside of me asked: Who am I to realize my dreams?
It comes from the part of me that questions my right to transition from a dream to an experience, a life, that is wonderful.
In my mind, these things happen to somebody else. Then I feel guilty for questioning it and I wonder where this self doubt stems from. I am that somebody else, this life is happening to me.
The funny thing about experiences is that they come and go. A vision becomes an experience and we trade the beauty of what might happen for the beauty of something that is now part of who we are.
After arriving in San Jose, I flew with my new friends to Tambor on a twelve-seater passenger plane. The small aircraft felt a like a flight simulator ducking and diving over a breathtaking land. Once we had two feet on the ground, we walked through four rivers, spotting monkeys along the way, perfect turquoise water lapping at our ankles. The pristine green of the jungle decorated with the occasional flash of pink flower.
My dream became a reality, but not the reality I was expecting. Floating on a cloud means you might hit the ground with some force.
My vision had been three weeks of bliss, but the jungle was more intense than I expected and it magnified the intensity of training. Instead of sailing into a sweet sense of calm as anticipated, I rode a roller coaster. The highs were higher than expected, the lows were lower, the bugs were bigger and the lessons were more difficult and more valuable than I could possibly have foreseen.
That’s another thing about experience, it rarely turns out the way you imagined it to be.
Moving our thoughts forward to what has not yet been and prematurely coloring in the outline of what is to come is not always a work of art . Often the colors we choose whilst dreaming ahead are not the ones the universe has picked out for us. Often the colors we are faced with are a much better match, a picture that we cherish.
I realized I no longer needed Chopin. Instead, an orchestra of cicadas filled my ears. Moment by moment, thoughts of what might happen turned into reality and I wondered why I ever had difficulty believing, for who am I not to be living my dreams?
{Dream your reality to life}
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