Look, it's not like I'd just seen the movie. I haven't watched it in ages. But if you'd seen the same cloud, you would have known that it was Falcor, too. Or at least his twin brother.
So there I was, a 28-year-old, staring at the Falcor cloud until it morphed back into just a cloud, wondering what my Dream is. Where would Falcor take me?
Would I ride on his back to the Vatican and my dream vacation? Would I take my kids with me? Probably not. But certainly I'd want Rob there. Rob wasn't with me right then, though. So I'd first make Falcor take me to Rob. And then maybe the two of us would just ride on his back to a lazy meadow filled with wild flowers and we'd all bask in the golden sunlight. For one commitment-free day. Skip the Vatican; I'll take a quiet day.
That's time away. But is it my Dream?
I don't have too many dreams, is the problem. I have nothing that I want to accomplish before I die. I have places I would love to go (Hawaii, the Vatican, Alaska, Glacier National Park), and things I would love to do (write a children's book, play soccer until I'm ancient, work at a nursery (the kind for plants)). I can think of things I want to own (a killer tent, lots more books). I can imagine the Tamra I want to be when I'm 75 years old, and the financial situation I want to have. I know that I want my children to be happy and successful in life, and I want my husband to feel fulfilled in his work. But these aren't Dreams. They're simply what I'm working towards. Ever so slowly.
It might sound cliche, but I truly am blessed. I have so much to be grateful for. And I can't come up with one thing that I'd like to have that I don't already have. ... Well, maybe I'd like my mortgage paid off. Okay. That's a good one. Excellent: Falcor can pay off my mortgage.
And then we'll go chill in the meadow.
I had nightmares of that dragon dog for years. he still gives me the creeps.
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