macaroni dreams.

Most of the time, I dream about really wacky stuff. One time I dreamed I was eating macaroni and cheese and it started talking to me. I think it was giving me directions. A month ago, I dreamed my boyfriend had a clone. Why would you dream about having two when sometimes one is even too many? Anyway, you get the point. But every once and a while, between the clones and the macaroni, I'll dream something that really wows me. Something that pulls at my heart strings so hard, I have to lay in bed and contemplate it's meaning long after I've awaken. Two nights ago I had one of those dreams.

I dreamt I was at the Purgatory ski area in Durango, CO where I had actually been just a month ago taking a ski lesson and attempting to conquer a bunny slope for my very first time. In real life it was a trying thing. It took a lot of balls to strap those skis on and smile, when inside I was truly scared. I did better than I thought I'd do, but never made it down the slope alone. In my dream, It was dawn or sunset. Either way the light was beautiful. Everything was blue with a hint of gold peaking through the trees, just enough to illuminate the snow beneath me. I was on top of the bunny slope, making my way over to the downhill edge. It was so quiet. All I could hear was my deep, cold breath and the sound of the snow sliding and crunching from under my skis. It felt so real. As I approached the drop off I looked up, to fully realize for the first time that I was actually alone. There wasn't a person in sight. And as I peered out over the white mountains in front of me I could see my breath. For a tiny, split, millisecond I was scared. There was no one to catch me when I couldn't slow down. There was no one to give me a hand and help me up when I fell. There was no one to motivate me to leave the top. No one to cheer me on at my side, or at the bottom when I reached it, despite how successfully I made it down. No one. But after that millisecond had passed, my entire being was flooded with the feeling of excitement and courage. I wasn't afraid one bit. I couldn't wait to take off. I wasn't afraid of the speed I new I wasn't good at controlling. I wasn't afraid to fall, and I wasn't worried at all that there wasn't anyone there to congratulate me in the end. I didn't need the approval from anyone but me. I was doing it for me. And the best part of the dream was not feeling afraid, but instead excited beyond belief to let go, quite literally, of the ground beneath me, and fly. And so I pulled my goggles down over my face, put my poles out in front of me, and pushed off. As soon as my body moved forward and the chill of the air hit my face I woke up.

Ever since that morning, at random moments a flash of feeling from that dream will pour over me. The image of me, just before takeoff fills my mind and it's exhilarating. It didn't matter that I didn't get to finish the dream. I know why I dreamt it, and it had nothing to do with skiing.

My life has been very trying lately, much like that bunny hill, that to most people doesn't seem so bad. I doubt myself all the time, and rely a lot on others around me for their help, their approval, their motivation. And If I don't watch myself, I fall back into my old habit of being afraid. Some of the best decisions I've ever made in life, were born from a mindset of knowing no fear. Or, looking fear in the face and embracing it. I do a lot, with other people in mind, but what would I do different for myself, if there wasn't anyone watching? I actually read on a Dove chocolate wrapper the other day, "What would you attempt to accomplish, if you knew you would not fail?"  I get a lot of advise, because well, I eat a lot of chocolate. But think about it. What would you do, if you knew you would not fail?

happy dreaming



I truly adore Valentines Day. 
In 1st grade I made a Valentine holder out of an extra large Quaker oatmeal box and decorated it with glue, construction paper, and paper doilies. It sat in the grade school hallway silently holding sweet little notes and sugary treats. And finally at the school party, while eating cupcakes and drinking soda my class opened their homemade boxes. The girls giddy with excitement over any valentine from a boy that resembled an interest stronger than friendship.

Every year since then, I find myself resisting the urge to buy paper doilies, never knowing exactly what I'd end up doing with them anyway. Instead, I take pictures and bake cookies. What a lovely holiday. A day about love and everything sweet. Here are a few of my very own sweet moments lately.

Oh, and happy valentines. :)

love.love.love. hailey.