Dreaming
I got on the computer this morning fully intending to write a post for my student midwifery blog. I was looking through sites and reading articles to formulate the post when I came across this beautiful little family:
And the crazy little nomad that runs my brain started dreaming; dreaming of finding an old bus or van, converting it over to WVO (waste veggie oil), and traveling; dreaming of falling asleep surrounded by redwoods one night and next to the ocean the next night; dreaming of offering women’s health care at festivals and gatherings around the continent out of the back of my little house on wheels. It’s been my dream since 1996, when I was 19 years old and living on site at Hawkwood Fantasy Faire. I became pregnant with The Boy at that faire and wanted so badly to just stay ensconced in that beautiful little world inside a world. It felt safe and comfortable; cloistered, but instead of religious vows, vows of freedom and love and autonomy.
It’s idealistic. I know. There is no part of me that is delusional enough to believe that my dream is idealistic and romantic. The life I have created is not quite condensable to bus size, i.e there is no way on God’s green earthThe Boy or W would be willing to sell off everything and live in a bus.
But I won’t give up the dream all together. I will travel at some point. Most likely it will be after The Boy is gone on his own and it will only be for summer’s, or a month or two at a time. Most likely it will just be me and one of the dogs. But it will be my travels and my adventures and my dream.
Hi mama! Thanks so much for linking to us…hold onto that dream of traveling. It’s such a wonderful life. xxoo