“All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.” T. E. Lawrence
May we always seek to be fully alive and dreaming with open eyes. There are times when our souls and imaginations feel completely blocked or murky like a stagnant pond. These moments where we sink in the mire are often the alarms sounding on us, letting us know we have succumbed to a lesser version of ourselves. We are following instead of leading. We are copying instead of kneading a new version of ourselves. We are drifting instead of deciding.
“When imagination returns, it means we are back in our body,” Tess Guinery writes in The Apricot Memoirs. When imagination returns, we return to the surface and float. We are dreaming; we are scheming; we are breathing. We are dangerous in a world that wants us dead because we are fully alive.
[My anthem below and the favorite dreamy Sunday Girl posts are returning to grace this page. Jam out with me, friends.]