Advancing towards dreams

Source: Favim

I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

~ Henry David Thoreau

Your dreams

Source: Favim 

I don’t know your story or your dreams or the things that steal your sleep, but I know they matter. I hope your story is rich with characters, rich with friends and conversation. I hope you know some people who carry you, and I hope you have the honor of carrying them. I hope that there’s beauty in your memories, and I hope it doesn’t haunt you. And if it does, then I hope there is someone who will walk you through the night and remind you of the promise of the sunrise, that beauty keeps coming, that there are futures worth waiting and fighting for, and that you were made to dream.

~ Jamie Tworkowski

Your dreams

Source: Favim 

I don’t know your story or your dreams or the things that steal your sleep, but I know they matter. I hope your story is rich with characters, rich with friends and conversation. I hope you know some people who carry you, and I hope you have the honor of carrying them. I hope that there’s beauty in your memories, and I hope it doesn’t haunt you. And if it does, then I hope there is someone who will walk you through the night and remind you of the promise of the sunrise, that beauty keeps coming, that there are futures worth waiting and fighting for, and that you were made to dream.

~ Jamie Tworkowski

A Litany for Survival

Source: Wikimedia Commons 

For those of us who live at the shoreline

standing upon the constant edges of decision

crucial and alone

for those of us who cannot indulge

the passing dreams of choice

who love in doorways coming and going

in the hours between dawns

looking inward and outward

at once before and after

seeking a now that can breed

futures

like bread in our children's mouths

so their dreams will not reflect

the death of ours:

For those of us

who were imprinted with fear

like a faint line in the center of our foreheads

learning to be afraid with our mother's milk

for by this weapon

this illusion of some safety to be found

the heavy-footed hoped to silence us

For all of us

this instant and this triumph

We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid

it might not remain

when the sun sets we are afraid

it might not rise in the morning

when our stomachs are full we are afraid

of indigestion

when our stomachs are empty we are afraid

we may never eat again

when we are loved we are afraid

love will vanish

when we are alone we are afraid

love will never return

and when we speak we are afraid

our words will not be heard

nor welcomed

but when we are silent

we are still afraid

So it is better to speak

remembering

we were never meant to survive.

~ Audre Lorde

A Litany for Survival

Source: Wikimedia Commons 

For those of us who live at the shoreline

standing upon the constant edges of decision

crucial and alone

for those of us who cannot indulge

the passing dreams of choice

who love in doorways coming and going

in the hours between dawns

looking inward and outward

at once before and after

seeking a now that can breed

futures

like bread in our children's mouths

so their dreams will not reflect

the death of ours:

For those of us

who were imprinted with fear

like a faint line in the center of our foreheads

learning to be afraid with our mother's milk

for by this weapon

this illusion of some safety to be found

the heavy-footed hoped to silence us

For all of us

this instant and this triumph

We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid

it might not remain

when the sun sets we are afraid

it might not rise in the morning

when our stomachs are full we are afraid

of indigestion

when our stomachs are empty we are afraid

we may never eat again

when we are loved we are afraid

love will vanish

when we are alone we are afraid

love will never return

and when we speak we are afraid

our words will not be heard

nor welcomed

but when we are silent

we are still afraid

So it is better to speak

remembering

we were never meant to survive.

~ Audre Lorde

The Book of a Thousand Eyes [A dream, still clinging like light to the dark, rounding]

Source: Favim 

A dream, still clinging like light to the dark, rounding

The gap left by things which have already happened

Leaving nothing in their place, may have nothing to do

But that. Dreams are like ghosts achieving ghosts’ perennial goal

Of revoking the sensation of repose. It’s terrible

To think we write these things for them, to tell them

Of our life—that is, our whole life. Along comes a dream

Of a machine. Why? What is being sold there? How is the product emitted?

It must have been sparked by a noise, the way the very word “spark”

emits a brief picture. Is it original? Inevitable?

We seem to sleep so as to draw the picture

Of events that have already happened so we can picture

Them. A dream for example of a procession to an execution site.

How many strangers could circle the space while speaking of nostalgia

And of wolves in the hills? We find them

Thinking of nothing instead—there’s no one to impersonate, nothing

To foresee. It’s logical that prophesies would be emitted

Through the gaps left by previous things, or by the dead

Refusing conversation and contemplating beauty instead.

But isn’t that the problem with beauty—that it’s apt in retrospect

To seem preordained? The dawn birds are trilling

A new day—it has the psychical quality of “pastness”  and they are trailing

It. The day breaks in an imperfectly continuous course

Of life. Sleep is immediate and memory nothing.

~ Lyn Hejinian

The Book of a Thousand Eyes [A dream, still clinging like light to the dark, rounding]

Source: Favim 

A dream, still clinging like light to the dark, rounding

The gap left by things which have already happened

Leaving nothing in their place, may have nothing to do

But that. Dreams are like ghosts achieving ghosts’ perennial goal

Of revoking the sensation of repose. It’s terrible

To think we write these things for them, to tell them

Of our life—that is, our whole life. Along comes a dream

Of a machine. Why? What is being sold there? How is the product emitted?

It must have been sparked by a noise, the way the very word “spark”

emits a brief picture. Is it original? Inevitable?

We seem to sleep so as to draw the picture

Of events that have already happened so we can picture

Them. A dream for example of a procession to an execution site.

How many strangers could circle the space while speaking of nostalgia

And of wolves in the hills? We find them

Thinking of nothing instead—there’s no one to impersonate, nothing

To foresee. It’s logical that prophesies would be emitted

Through the gaps left by previous things, or by the dead

Refusing conversation and contemplating beauty instead.

But isn’t that the problem with beauty—that it’s apt in retrospect

To seem preordained? The dawn birds are trilling

A new day—it has the psychical quality of “pastness”  and they are trailing

It. The day breaks in an imperfectly continuous course

Of life. Sleep is immediate and memory nothing.

~ Lyn Hejinian

Quote on celebration

Credit: Joel Brown of Axis Dance Company 

Celebration when your plan is working? Anyone can do that. But when you realize that the story of your life could be told a thousand different ways, that you could tell it over and over as a tragedy, but you choose to call it an epic, that's when you start to learn what celebration is. When what you see in front of you is so far outside of what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong, that's celebration.

~ Shauna Niequist

Quote on celebration

Credit: Joel Brown of Axis Dance Company 

Celebration when your plan is working? Anyone can do that. But when you realize that the story of your life could be told a thousand different ways, that you could tell it over and over as a tragedy, but you choose to call it an epic, that's when you start to learn what celebration is. When what you see in front of you is so far outside of what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong, that's celebration.

~ Shauna Niequist

Quote on dreams

Credit: Free by Eman333 (Geoffrey Jones)

...life was made up of a succession of dreams, some few to be realized, most to be set aside as time went on, one or two to persist for a lifetime. It was knowing when to abandon a dream, perhaps, that mattered and distinguished the successful people in life from the sad, embittered persons who never moved on from the first of life's great disappointments. Or from the airy dreamers who never really lived life at all.

~ Mary Balogh

Quote on dreams

Credit: Free by Eman333 (Geoffrey Jones)

...life was made up of a succession of dreams, some few to be realized, most to be set aside as time went on, one or two to persist for a lifetime. It was knowing when to abandon a dream, perhaps, that mattered and distinguished the successful people in life from the sad, embittered persons who never moved on from the first of life's great disappointments. Or from the airy dreamers who never really lived life at all.

~ Mary Balogh

Half life

Source: Unknown/Favim

We walk through half our life
as if it were a fever dream

barely touching the ground

our eyes half open
our heart half closed.

Not half knowing who we are
we watch the ghost of us drift
from room to room
through friends and lovers
never quite as real as advertised.

Not saying half we mean
or meaning half we say
we dream ourselves
from birth to birth
seeking some true self.

Until the fever breaks
and the heart can not abide
a moment longer
as the rest of us awakens,
summoned from the dream,
not half caring for anything but love.

~ Stephen Levine

Half life

Source: Unknown/Favim

We walk through half our life
as if it were a fever dream

barely touching the ground

our eyes half open
our heart half closed.

Not half knowing who we are
we watch the ghost of us drift
from room to room
through friends and lovers
never quite as real as advertised.

Not saying half we mean
or meaning half we say
we dream ourselves
from birth to birth
seeking some true self.

Until the fever breaks
and the heart can not abide
a moment longer
as the rest of us awakens,
summoned from the dream,
not half caring for anything but love.

~ Stephen Levine

The Answer

Credit: BBoomerinDenial @ morguefile.com

Debasement is the password of the base,
Nobility the epitaph of the noble.
See how the gilded sky is covered
With the drifting twisted shadows of the dead.

The Ice Age is over now,
Why is there ice everywhere?
The Cape of Good Hope has been discovered,
Why do a thousand sails contest the Dead Sea?

I came into this world
Bringing only paper, rope, a shadow,
To proclaim before the judgment
The voice that has been judged:

Let me tell you, world,
I—do—not—believe!
If a thousand challengers lie beneath your feet,
Count me as number thousand and one.

I don't believe the sky is blue;
I don't believe in thunder's echoes;
I don't believe that dreams are false;
I don't believe that death has no revenge.

If the sea is destined to breach the dikes
Let all the brackish water pour into my heart;
If the land is destined to rise
Let humanity choose a peak for existence again.

A new conjunction and glimmering stars
Adorn the unobstructed sky now;
They are the pictographs from five thousand years.
They are the watchful eyes of future generations.

~ Bei Dao

The Answer

Credit: BBoomerinDenial @ morguefile.com

Debasement is the password of the base,
Nobility the epitaph of the noble.
See how the gilded sky is covered
With the drifting twisted shadows of the dead.

The Ice Age is over now,
Why is there ice everywhere?
The Cape of Good Hope has been discovered,
Why do a thousand sails contest the Dead Sea?

I came into this world
Bringing only paper, rope, a shadow,
To proclaim before the judgment
The voice that has been judged:

Let me tell you, world,
I—do—not—believe!
If a thousand challengers lie beneath your feet,
Count me as number thousand and one.

I don't believe the sky is blue;
I don't believe in thunder's echoes;
I don't believe that dreams are false;
I don't believe that death has no revenge.

If the sea is destined to breach the dikes
Let all the brackish water pour into my heart;
If the land is destined to rise
Let humanity choose a peak for existence again.

A new conjunction and glimmering stars
Adorn the unobstructed sky now;
They are the pictographs from five thousand years.
They are the watchful eyes of future generations.

~ Bei Dao

To a Friend

Photo credit: hotblack from www.morguefile.com

You entered my life in a casual way,

And saw at a glance what I needed;

There were others who passed me or met me each day,

But never a one of them heeded.

Perhaps you were thinking of other folks more,

Or chance simply seemed to decree it;

I know there were many such chances before,

But the others—well, they didn’t see it.

You said just the thing that I wished you would say,

And you made me believe that you meant it;

I held up my head in the gallant old way,

And resolved you should never repent it.

There are times when encouragement means such a lot,

And a word is enough to convey it;

There were others who could have, as easy as not—

But, just the same, they didn’t say it.

There may have been someone who could have done more

To help me along, though I doubt it;

What I needed was cheering, and always before

They had let me plod onward without it.

You helped to refashion the dream of my heart,

And made me turn eagerly to it;

There were others who might have (I question that part)—

But, after all, they didn’t do it!

~ Grace S Dawson

To a Friend

Photo credit: hotblack from www.morguefile.com

You entered my life in a casual way,

And saw at a glance what I needed;

There were others who passed me or met me each day,

But never a one of them heeded.

Perhaps you were thinking of other folks more,

Or chance simply seemed to decree it;

I know there were many such chances before,

But the others—well, they didn’t see it.

You said just the thing that I wished you would say,

And you made me believe that you meant it;

I held up my head in the gallant old way,

And resolved you should never repent it.

There are times when encouragement means such a lot,

And a word is enough to convey it;

There were others who could have, as easy as not—

But, just the same, they didn’t say it.

There may have been someone who could have done more

To help me along, though I doubt it;

What I needed was cheering, and always before

They had let me plod onward without it.

You helped to refashion the dream of my heart,

And made me turn eagerly to it;

There were others who might have (I question that part)—

But, after all, they didn’t do it!

~ Grace S Dawson

Don’t Give Up

Photo credit: click from morguefile.com

Don’t give up, you still have time
to reach up and start anew,
Accept your shadows,
Bury your fears,
Free your burdens,
Fly again.

Don’t give up, that’s what life is
Continue the journey,
Follow your dreams,
Unstuck time,
Move the rubble,
And uncover the sky.

Don’t give up, please don’t give way,
Even if the cold burns,
Even if fear bites,
Even if the sun sets,
And the wind goes silent,
There is still fire in your soul
There is still life in your dreams.

Because life is yours and yours is the desire
Because you have loved it and because I love you
Because wine exists and love is true.
Because there are no wounds that time doesn’t cure.

To open the doors,
Take away the locks,
Abandon the walls that have protected you,
To live life and accept the challenge
Get back laughter,
Practice a song,
Lower the guard and extend the hands
Open the wings
And try again,
Celebrate life and take back the skies.

Don’t give up, please don’t give way,
Even if the cold burns,
Even if fear bites,
Even if the sun sets,
And the wind goes silent,
There is still fire in your soul
There is still life in your dreams.

Because every day is a new beginning,
Because this is the hour and the best moment.
Because you are not alone, because I love you.

~ Mario Benedetti

Don’t Give Up

Photo credit: click from morguefile.com

Don’t give up, you still have time
to reach up and start anew,
Accept your shadows,
Bury your fears,
Free your burdens,
Fly again.

Don’t give up, that’s what life is
Continue the journey,
Follow your dreams,
Unstuck time,
Move the rubble,
And uncover the sky.

Don’t give up, please don’t give way,
Even if the cold burns,
Even if fear bites,
Even if the sun sets,
And the wind goes silent,
There is still fire in your soul
There is still life in your dreams.

Because life is yours and yours is the desire
Because you have loved it and because I love you
Because wine exists and love is true.
Because there are no wounds that time doesn’t cure.

To open the doors,
Take away the locks,
Abandon the walls that have protected you,
To live life and accept the challenge
Get back laughter,
Practice a song,
Lower the guard and extend the hands
Open the wings
And try again,
Celebrate life and take back the skies.

Don’t give up, please don’t give way,
Even if the cold burns,
Even if fear bites,
Even if the sun sets,
And the wind goes silent,
There is still fire in your soul
There is still life in your dreams.

Because every day is a new beginning,
Because this is the hour and the best moment.
Because you are not alone, because I love you.

~ Mario Benedetti

Galleries

Photo credit: taylorschlades from morguefile.com

Yo he visto mi alma en sueños…

En el etéreo espacio

donde los mundos giran,

un astro loco, un raudo,

cometa con los rojos

cabellos incendiados…

Yo he visto mi alma en sueños,

cual río plateado,

de rizas ondas lentas

que fluyen dormitando…

Yo he visto mi alma en sueños,

como un estrecho y largo

corredor tenebroso,

de fondo iluminado…

Acaso mi alma tenga

risueña luz de campo,

y sus aromas lleguen

de allá, del fondo claro…

Yo he visto mi alma en sueños…

Era un desierto llano

y un árbol seco y roto

hacia el camino blanco.

Translation

I have seen my soul in dreams…

In the ethereal space

where worlds spin,

a demented star, an impetuous

comet with its red

tail of fire…

I have seen my soul in dreams

like a silvery river

with rippling waves

that flow sleepily…

I have seen my soul in dreams

like a long and narrow

dimly lit corridor

with an illuminated foundation…

Perhaps my soul has

the cheerful light of the countryside,

and its aromas come

from there, from the glowing foundation…

I have seen my soul in dreams…

It was a deserted plain

and a dry and broken tree

along the white path

~ Antonio Machado