I know there is nothing more boring than listening to someone talking about their dreams but…
Every time Vess and I have pork for dinner, without fail we have the strangest and most vivid dreams later that night. We have lovingly dubbed this phenomenon “Pork Dreams.”
Usually my dreams end up looking something like this: (make sure you have your volume turned up.)
But the other night, after a particularly tasty pork chop, I cuddled up with Vess on the air mattress and had a dream that seemed to have a little more meaning.
I was standing in the courtyard of our apartment complex with Vess alongside me. I was throwing pieces of stale loaf bread out onto the area where the pigeons like to gather. Suddenly a homeless man walked out, picked up the slices and proceeded to make a sandwich with the aid of some finger-scraped mayonnaise from a discarded jar.
I woke up with new-found clarity and appreciation.
Times are tough and sometimes I get bogged down in the minutia that comes along with adjusting to our new life. Still being jobless and sitting around in an apartment waiting for a house to sell that is 2,000 miles away really does a number on my self esteem. Regardless, I still feel lucky and truly blessed to have the opportunities that have seemingly just dropped into my lap. I think if this wasn’t meant to happen, there are too many things that simply would not have occured. A series of significant events that started years ago have led us to this point – a point where the future looks a lot brighter than it used to. We’re not thriving, but we aren’t in survival-mode either.
We have food, we have shelter and we have each other.
I have no right to complain.