Just Words - A Simple Dream

All my life I have had a simple dream.  It's one that isn't selfish, unpleasant, hard or taxing.  Through the years I am one of those people who others come to and I will patiently listen and share any sought advice with them.  Motherhood came and again my life took on a different listen and learn ethos.  Gradually I began to learn that some people are naturally negative and start to grate the nerves, will have a problem that will turn into yours and are nasty in mind and spirit.  Still I would listen, smile and only if necessary, speak up for them.  But what about me, my feelings, my thoughts?

 

With my birthday this week, Mr and Miss Teen individually asked what I wanted.  My regular answer to them both has been "peace and quiet", to which they take this personally, but I then explain that it's not them.  I am very happy in my mother role, they have the absolute right to talk, argue, shout and take up as much of my time as they grow in their lives.  No, I was taught never to interrupt, listen to the person talking to you and that what you say should mean something.  I was reminded of this today when someone told another "less is more".  Always to think positively and be treated as you wish to be treated.  I regularly say that everyone wants a piece of me and sometimes I can take this, sometimes I find it hard, especially when I feel I need someone myself to talk to.

My answer of "peace and quiet" means, time alone.  Just for me doing things I want to do. 

Is this why I blog I wonder?

 I sit with my laptop and camera and shut off to everything as I type and edit my posts.  If only I was one of the lucky ones that could do this all the time.

My simple dream is a room where "peace and quiet" is the order of the day, a bay windowed room, book lined and a period desk looking out through leaded windows framing a wonderful autumn sunset.  Large writing books within easy reach and a pen waiting to go on its journey dancing through the crisp white pages ready to be filled with my own thoughts.  A log fire whistling and crackling, echoing throughout the room.  A solitary lamp to give a warm glow over the pages and contents of the desk.  Nothing else, just doing what I love to do, writing the story behind the picture.

Dreams are a folder in our mind that we open like a filing drawer to help us cope.  Simple and comforting.

One day, I say to myself, one day!