Until change finds me

31 August 2012


I read her post today, and she poses a question that hurts and hopes in equal measure:
What does one do with all these half-painted dreams?
I wish I knew.

I put mine in a box, stored high on a shelf in our closet, visiting infrequently, afraid to look in. I see them in maps and pictures, displayed in a ratty apartment I can't wait to break free from. They call out to me, taunt me, frustrate me... "You're not there yet," they say.

I look to those clouds of change, after a hot and dry and unbearable summer, bringing in wind from a hurricane, dying down in our plains. Rain half-heartedly falls in desperate spits. "Go, please go," they say.

What does one do with all these half-painted dreams? I pray, I sing songs (slow, tearful notes of hope), I go to the grocery store, I fold laundry and pick up legos and make my bed. Every day... 

Until change finds me.

Five Minute Friday
Today is Five Minute Friday, where we join the lady formerly known as Gypsy Mama and write it out. 

Give it a go. It's great, cheap therapy.


  1. That was beautiful... Thank you for sharing your heart. I wonder if sometimes the half-painted dreams are more complete than we think.

  2. Lovely piece for five minutes! I'd like to think that our half-painted dreams have seen some change and on their way to completion.

  3. thank you for sharing... it's hard, so hard, to have half of anything. i'm working on changing my focus to see a whole where all i see now are missing pieces. so hard. hugs, keep going. keep dreaming.