Dreams

A few weeks ago I celebrated Easter. March and April are months in which others celebrate Ramadan and Passover. I had a strange experience during Holy Week, which precedes Easter. Holy Week is usually it is a solemn period for me, characterized by reflection and prayer. This year felt different. 

I was in a celebratory mood, perhaps because midway through the week, I celebrated my birthday. I usually attend the yearly Vigil Mass on Saturday evening, but this year I didn’t. Instead I traveled to St Monica’s Roman Catholic Church on the Upper East Side of Manhattan to hear a friend of mine say Easter Mass. It was the best thing I could have done. 

I got to the city in 35 minutes. Did Fate know it was my birthday? This ‘gift of time’ gave me the chance to sit quietly for 30 minutes. As I walked in, my breath was taken away by the beauty and magnificence of the church itself. Next ‘gift’? Live spring flowers, tastefully decorating the church! Father Edward Beck then gave the most inspirational Homily, weaving together the tragic events of the past week: the collapse of the Francis Key Bridge in Baltimore Harbor and the murder of Officer Dillar, who was shot during a routine traffic stop. 

Father Beck spoke about how life can be transformed instantaneously in the blink of an eye. He then wove that together with the Gospel of Mary Magdalene finding the dark empty tomb. He spoke of the recent photos that he had enjoyed: cosmic black holes surrounded by electrical auras of reds and yellows. It was totally inspirational. 

I was so happy I journeyed into Manhattan alone to follow an intuitive nudge. Now that I was another year wiser, had I learned to follow those intuitive nudges? That afternoon I gifted my great niece a book about the poet Langston Hughes. I printed out one of his poems for her, and I’d like to share it now with you.  

DREAMS by Langston Hughes 

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

His words paint a compelling picture. Having reached an age of contentment, one never wants to take dreams for granted. It’s never too late to follow your dreams wherever they may lead you. Some don’t realize their dreams until later in life. Life is a journey not a destination. Isn't it how we traverse the ups and downs, learn from the obstacles, and embrace the joys that make for a life well lived? How are you living your life?

 
 
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