The dream: a small, well-designed home in the woods with large window-views of green trees, wild animals, and water. Child runs around exploring the wonders of nature while we tend the organic garden and smile. Neighbors pop over during weekly pot-lucks and our conversations are long, intelligent, and open.
The reality: a cramped attic in an inner suburb where I try to figure out which plastic baby bottle is worse. Kitty tries to sit in my lap but my belly takes up too much room. Hubby listens to my dream and gently reminds me how he needs to be near a cultural power-city as he applies again for federal financial aid.
The dream: I work for myself, when I want, writing and making art, and I make enough money working that we don't have welfare worries and Hubby can focus on his music.
The reality: I made labels today after writing snappy copy about social networking and emerging professionals.
The dream: I have time to think. To breathe deeply. To ponder a book. To enjoy my free time rather than exploit it with jam-packed errands and to-do lists. To hold Hubby without glancing at the clock. To take the dogs on a long rambling walk through the park without having to schedule it. To enjoy life.
The reality: To-do list keeps getting longer and want-to-do list keeps getting put back.
The mission: Make small steps into figuring out how to make the dream more real.