I had a dream the other night. I was sitting in an elegant restaurant, feeling dressed-up and pretty sheik. A young, attractive server approached my table and I smiled at him in a way I perceived to be enticing. Then, for some reason, he greeted me, saying You must be close to 50-years-old, maam. He said this warmly, kindly, with no trace of malice. I did not - initially - take it warmly nor kindly and in my dream, his words were dripping with implied malice. That young whipper-snapper! How dare he notice my age? Why, in my day, someone wouldve gone and cut a switch to repay that kind of sass. Then suddenly, my subconscious reframed the picture of me and the gorgeous youthful man. I mustve been dreaming lucidly and able to control what was happening, like I sometimes do on the very edge of waking. Now I smiled at the young server, appreciating his beauty and telling him, As a matter of fact, I am almost 50. Good guess! After hed taken my order and walked away, I considered how I wished a long life for this young person. I wished for him the adventures Ive had, all of my joys and just a tablespoon of my sorrows to further sweeten the happy times. I wished for him opportunities for education, fulfilling work and the kind of love that lasts. I hoped that he would enjoy the world and not be numb or blind to its magic and mystery. I wished for him the breadth and depth of my experience. I sat back with my chardonnay and a moment before opening my sleepy eyes, raised my glass to both our futures.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 00:56:21 +0000
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