Home to me, for the last decade, is a small lake community an hour north of Lexington. The closest town claims 2,000 residents. This mini- resort area began with weekend fishing cabins and morphed into year- round homes for those who relish warm weather pontooning and the peace and quiet of wooded, hilly terrain that leads down to the sparkle of a small lake. Of course, warm weather is inevitably followed by fall and winter, each wearing its own brand of beauty.
Since moving in, the man of this house has thought that being snowed in here would be a super thing. I’m pretty sure his imagining includes a fully stocked frig, overflowing wood pile, unending power supply – and then regular delivery of the morning paper – a must wherever we might be. ( specifics unspoken, but day dreams do come complete!)
Daydreams are marvelous things, but often more illusion than reality. In the now eleven years of residence, we’ve had ‘snowed in’ conditions maybe three times, two of which I was snowed in at my daughter’s house in Lexington , and he was snowed in at home.
The one time we were both at home, his morning walk up the hill to the mailbox revealed NO NEWSPAPER! (and did I mention that lake TV is notorious for beginning to look like a broken jigsaw puzzle just before the screen goes blank, whenever an high wind or storm threaten?)
“This wasn’t what I envisioned ,” he muttered, as he divested himself of boots, Barbour, scarf and gloves, and began to reconcile himself to a newspaper-less day.
How often does that apply to me, I wondered.
From the days of building sandcastles, writing neighborhood ‘newspapers’ and playing dress-up, I’ve been envisioning a few things myself. Having raised two daughters and grandmothered a granddaughter before being blessed to have a boy child around, it was more recently I experienced young male envisioning, as he created the appropriate costume and environment to be a ‘fixin’ guy’ woodworker, a basketball star, quarterback or pitcher, depending on the season.
It’s easy to smile when I see it in a little one. To know that daydreams and envisionings will change. That there will be the things not in the realm of the possible, as well as the possible.
Funny thing. The envisioning just seems to get bigger with age. And generally I don’t have the right costume to live it out. Nor do I share my envisioning so easily. So, when reality reveals
it was only an illusion- just my internal version of a particular story -I might not be just disappointed or disgruntled. I might be deeply upset.
Owning the disappointment when there’s no newspaper acknowledges that it was a lovely image I held in my mind. A quiet morning before a roaring fire, the snow and cold safely outside the windows. Reality is that if I’m snowed IN, the newspaper deliverer is likely to be snowed OUT! A good beginning of in touch with reality as well as illusion.
I’m not planning on giving up daydreams. Fantasies. illusions. Whatever you might want to call them. Just being aware that how I choose to write my internal stories connects with my attitude when internal story and reality meet up.
Just another snowstorm 2015 thought for the day.