Dreams We Dream

WE LOVE WHAT WE LOVE

We love what we love,
the blondes, the boy with biceps, the riffs,
Blue Hawaii, the lover you could never own;
we ride the tide of the unexpected in the span of a lifetime
grasping onto threads of a dream-determined
there is purpose and meaning in all that we do
closing ours eyes in prayer, wondering the
why of the how, the how of the why-reaching
for that which is beyond our reaching, and oft
knowing it’s only in the reaching where
the connection of feeling is found, accepting
we love what we love
even when the why of how
and the how of why is only there in the reaching.

 

Tomas Delray, a character in my first novel, penned this song. I’ve not yet heard it sung, but I can see him or Dwight Yoakam singing it.  I’m certain Tomas wouldn’t mind if Dwight were to sing his or any of the songs Bobby Delray—his son—wrote.  No, he wouldn’t mind.

The writer in me sees Dwight shimming across the stage at the House of Blues in Hollywood. The Levis he is sporting look as if they’ve been spray painted on is body. He’s wearing Tony Lamas or something custom, and his Stetson is positioned low enough on his head to reveal the glimmer in his eyes. He’s an artist who continues to enjoy his calling.

The crowd is ramped after three body shaking songs.  He senses they are ready to catch a breath, take a sip from the room temperature cocktail they ordered before he walked onto the stage. Me, I am sitting at the bar slurping my not so wonderful glass of house white. I might be drinking castor oil for all I care. This is a big night and I am too damn excited to care about the wine’s rating. I am mesmerized at his ability to work his audience. He finishes the song to a thunder of applauds and shrieks.

“WE LOVE YOU DWIGHT.”

I see something flying through the air and land at his feet.  It looks like a woman’s G-string.  A smile spreads across his face.  Yep, it was a pair of knickers.  I wonder if the woman remembered to write her cell number with a purple Sharpie on the satin.

“Thank you all for coming out to the House of Blues. I’m going to slow it down for a bit.  I’ve got something new for you tonight….”  It’s a packed house but as he starts introducing the next song the roar subsides. The only audible noise heard between the tattered walls of the dimly lit bar are the simultaneous inhales from the expectant crowd. It’s one of Bobby’s songs.

 

The scene fades to black leaving me alone at my desk in my room. I swear I can hear Dwight singing for a few seconds after I float back into my body. The wine I am drinking is better than house white. Not that I care as I am quivering with delight. It’s not because he’s singing one of my character’s songs.  (Mr. Yoakam hasn’t a clue I’m alive or that I’ve written a book).  As wonderful as it would be if this riff were a reality my delight is something only the writer can understand.

Each time I randomly flip open my novel and read a page, sparks of energy shoot up and down my spine. My breath traps behind a rib for a few seconds and a voice inside of my head shouts you wrote that… and I am amazed once again. How I managed to get from the first line to the end, to me, is something short of fantastical. What started out as a folly or something whispered in dark bars to strangers…

I want to write a book

…became a reality.  It took more than love to push me from writing the first line to typing THE END. It took a hell of a lot of reaching outside of myself. None of it made sense at the time and honestly, I doubt I will truly understand what was going inside of me when I finally decided to pen the story.

Reading Tomas’s words tonight brought it all home for me. Life, the one you’re living is yours to define, not once, but again and again. A person isn’t locked into one story. Better still, if you decides to redefine your life it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but you. There is a difference between having a dream and living it. Dreaming is the first step to something concrete.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been leaving my body to drift into the ethereal viaduct of my imagination to dream my dreams. Once the idea of writing a book was housed in this magical realm, but after pushing and dragging my own good self out of my comfort zone, I made it a reality.

Maybe hearing Dwight sing one of my character’s song is only a dream today, but who’s to say the others I have floating up there in the stratosphere won’t crash through the barrier and come barreling down to the earth’s surface.

When you’re staring up night sky wondering the why of why, struggling to define your purpose in the world, and thinking you haven’t got a chance, do your remember that it’s yours for the taking?

You only have to reach for it.

 

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by

I’m a writer and hoarder of one-size-fits-all panty hose. Until the hose fits over my bum, I write to provide an alternative view on writing and perfection.

32 thoughts on “Dreams We Dream

  1. Hi Brenda,

    If dreaming is the first step, to “reach for it” is step two. Then when your hand is slapped away the hard work begins. I kid, of course, but only slightly.

    What you have done, and what you are doing, is much more than the mere act of reaching out for a dream. It is amazing to consider how you got from the first line to the last in your first book, because the process is rigorous — even if you love what you are doing. Take credit for surviving the fits and starts, for overcoming of the moments of doubt, and for working the arduous process through to completion. Let’s call all of that, step three. :)
    Ray Colon recently posted….When Blogging Gets SeriousMy Profile

    • Ray – congrats again on the new gig. I was tickled pink for you. I am late in responding to my own post. I had an idea for a story and had to get it down, thus the way dreams can impact our everyday life. I am still in awe of myself, but not arrogantly, more of fighting my own doubt and pushing past those sorts of demons. Then add all those noise from life. I have a huge regard for anyone who dons the persona of writer and then works toward their dream.As for me and my books, I’ll keep working towards living my La Vida Loca.

  2. Great post, Brenda. I love Tomas Delray. He stole my heart when I read your book. And his words do ring true. I think sometimes we don’t want to have to reach. You know what I mean? But that reaching (and all the effort behind it) is what makes our dreams a reality and worth it in the end.
    Kelly Hashway recently posted….Minder by Kate Kaynak (Review)My Profile

  3. Brenda,
    You breathe and it creates. What you have created from your mind into words is a masterpiece because you have given it your heart, your mind, and your soul. You wrote you love down. I have not read it, but will be blessed when I do so!

    • Jodi, and you give all of us another perspective on our inner selves. You’re words continue to make me ponder. Thanks kindly for visiting and always leaving me with extra hope.

  4. You are an inspiration. Your focus snaps me back to reality when I feel doubtful or lost. Our processes are opposite — truly opposite — but I have much to learn from you. You are a very wise dreamer, and I’ve no doubt that you’ll reach all of your goals.
    June O’Hara recently posted….Charlie: The ConclusionMy Profile

    • Thanks much, June. As you know, it’ simply a matter of sitting down in the chair and losing track of time. Writing is an all or nothing sort of passion.

    • Martha, you made my morning (sorry for the delay in responding) but I am one of those writing frenzies where time ceases to have meaning. Behind! It’s tough,as you know, finding the agent who clicks with your voice and believes in the story. I am still looking for that one.

  5. WOW!!! This gave me goosebumps. Every word of every line. It’s BEAUTIFUL. I LOVE DWIGHT… too and his spray painted jeans. haha Whatever we SEE, we SAY, and then it BEcomes REALITY. This is such an INSPIRATION to me!!! Thank you so much for sharing it.
    Lisa Marie Farfalla recently posted….Is My Love Enough?My Profile

    • Lisa, glad you enjoyed and even happier you like Dwight. I love the sound of his voice. A solid songwriter. And thanks kindly for you warm words and for stopping by.

  6. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been leaving my body to drift into the ethereal viaduct of my imagination to dream my dreams”… I loved this line and I loved Tomas’s song.
    I’m often haunted by Bruce Springsteen’s lyrics “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true, or is it something worse?” but I don’t think of dreams as only in “lies” or “regrets” or even “finally coming true”. Dreams are part of our soul, conscious or otherwise, and as you say, there for the taking! I can’t wait to read your book!
    Astra recently posted….A Balancing ActMy Profile

    • Astra, it has been like that in my head. I am fortunate to have found an outlet for those live action movies inside of my head. That’ a great song by Bruce, with poignant lyrics. I never realized just how much work it is to have a passion, take it out on the road, and live it. It’s brutal.

  7. Brenda, you truly define making your dreams come true. So many us have dream but fear pulls us away from walking out of our comfort zone to make it a reality. You will be great!
    rimly recently posted….Is This Love?My Profile

    • Rimly, it’s a lot harder making a dream come true than I thought it would be, but I suppose everything in life we want takes super powers, oh, and moxie.

  8. Darn right, B. Darn right. We just need to reach for it. You dreamed. You wrote. And now you’ve reached yours. Loved ‘the why of how and the how of why,’ and that they are only part of being. You love what you love.

    • C – Reaching is what I am doing, oh and how. I love dreaming, in truth it’s the easier part of the journey. As for the poem, it’s sums up how I feel and look at life.

    • Thanks, Monica. I swear sometimes I have so much fun writing a scene I am bummed when it’s over. I wanted to be there in that club drinking bad wine.

    • Bev – you make my heart sing. I am working up the nerve to write Dwight. The worst that can happen is he gets a restraining order, right?

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