we're driving cadillacs in our dreams

(I wrote this sometime back in april, before summer visitors and summer adventures, before school started and we plunged into the next thing. I remember feeling like it would take a kind of bravery to post this that I didn't feel like I had at the time. and now, a mere six months later, my life looks different, feels different, and it doesn't seem so scary. it seems brave in a way I am fully capable of living.)


Or maybe if your neighbor does you a huge favor
And he sells you that rabbit that's been sitting in his yard
You fix it up, you trick it out, you give it rims, you give it bump
You give it all your time because that's all you can think about
And that's as far as I got

And that's as far as I got, and where I wanted to go
Knowing the whole time that's all you could think about
Even though if you cut it off and start that bitch up
You need a jump like you'll need in your rump to grow
And you change all the time so that rabbit that you thought about
That whole summer, the next summer you didn't want
That rabbit no more
You wanted something bigger and better

So the summer past and the rabbit is old?
Right, right, so now you want a Cadillac
~a day in the life of andre benjamin (incomplete)

I've never actually had any desire to drive a cadillac. I don't really get their appeal or understand their symbol in pop culture. we're more honda fit kind of people (times two even!). but I am totally feeling the sentiment here.

it is never quiet in my house. right now jamin is lying on the kitchen floor listening to a book on cd. cora is sitting beside me in my bedroom, singing to herself about easter and her neighborhood and watermelon. we have no idea what she is talking about most of the time, but it doesn't seem to matter to her much either way. the window is open in front of me, and there are twenty-seven baby chicks (who aren't really babies anymore) scratching up the yard in the rain. there are beehives in my bedroom, a worm bin in the pantry, two different kinds of chicken food by the front door, and seed trays lining the deck railing. at some point in my not-so-distant past, I dreamed about every piece of this life, from the kids to the seedlings. and now here it is. 

there is lots of talk about the dream deferred, but what about the realized dream, the one we work for and plan about and fulfill, only to come face to face with the reality that it isn't our dream anymore? while are dreams are becoming our reality we are busy dreaming about something else. dreams don't seem to last too long around here. and now there are so many of us that dreams have to wait in line. but loving each other enough to wait, or to make someone else's dream part of real life, is part of the dream too, I think. or it should be, on days when I am feeling extra patient and loving.

I dreamed about having kids and now I dream about living alone. I dreamed about living in the middle of nowhere and now I dream about people dropping by for a beer because they were just driving by. I dreamed about working at camp, about homeschooling, about having a job, about staying home full-time, about being married to a farmer, about writing it all down, and I've had he chance to do it all. and then I've also wished all of those things away.

a friend told me recently she wishes she could make decisions the way I do: no floundering, just plunging. I change my mind a lot. I'm pretty indecisive. but I also plow through things like I don't know any better, sometimes leaving a lot of stunned folks in my wake. I haven't found much in my life that I couldn't change my mind about later. it is an expensive perspective sometimes (ask me about my move to canada and back) and it can be humbling to have to backtrack (again, see return trip from canada), but I suppose it makes for good stories in the long run. but here is the real question: is it a problem with contentment? or are we (or at least some of us) just hard-wired strivers, always ready for whatever is next?

my dream of different is not always a dream of something better. I am not always looking for the upgrade from vw rabbit to cadillac.  but I crave change, novelty, experience for experience's sake. it can be exhausting for those who love me best. my restlessness is a constant discussion in my marriage. it is not that I am dissatisfied (which has taken me a while to figure out) or unhappy so much as I just want the chance to try it all and I constantly feel like I am running out of time.

but then eric brings in a bouquet of asparagus and daffodils from the yard, presented to me more proudly than any exotic roses could ever be presented, and there is exactly enough time for it all.