Wrestling // Vayishlach
There is one song that invariably will make its way onto my running playlist. Eye of the Tiger. It’s this one line:
Don’t lose your grip on the dreams of the past, You must fight just to keep them alive.
So true. It is such a fight. How quickly we abandon ourselves, our dreams.
The other morning I found myself lining our front door with the mini-lights on an artificial garland string that I bought last year. Now, the whole tote of Hanukkah decor made me feel ill. I didn’t want to keep any of it. Years past of items amassed. A white string of light here, a blue string of light there. I hated it all.
I always laughed at my husband, Mr. Grinch. Here I was, feeling so extra grinchy looking at this tote of crap I truly did not want in our home. I pulled out the menorahs, the small bag of dreidels, and one large wooden snowflake Ben painted blue and white last year or the year before. The rest, gone. Donated.
I do not need to keep up with the Joneses. I do not need the glitter pinecones. I do not need a home full of trinkets that hold no meaning to me.
What I do need is space. Not an empty home. A spacious home. A place of comfort, yes, but a place that also inspires us to get out the door and on an adventure.
The alchemy of object and object placement. It matters.
A home that does not distract me from my dreams, but a home that supports them and shelters them and keeps them safe-ish. A home that keeps them alive.
Hanging the guitars in the front room so they are always in reach when inspiration strikes. The live edge clock that does not tell time above the bay window, where we read and play and sing and sip coffee or cocoa and time can stop, thank you very much. The ceramic bowl with a mountain scene at the sink, so I can dream of mountain runs while scrubbing the mountain of dishes. The sea foam blue chair now on the covered backyard patio, the leaf blower and garden gloves propped on her side, coaxing me outside. Let her grow some moss if she must. The ottoman now in the corner of the bedroom, a perfect meditation seat. I only find myself sitting on her a few times a week, a minute or less, but I know she is there when I need her.
Distraction has been the great enemy in the fight to keep my dreams alive. Boy do we live in a distracting world, and in distracting times.
May you remember your dreams. May you hold them in the highest regard. May you guard them with the ferocity of a hungry tiger stalking her prey. The dream is there, and yours for the taking.
Be like Jacob. Wrestle with the angels all night if you have to. If that is what it takes to make it through the night and come out on the other side to claim your new name.
Hang tough and stay hungry folks. Shabbat Shalom.